Woke up early and had two local kids spy unstealthily on me while I packed down.
Greeted on the beach by a cheery old boy who told me of his regret at not putting me up and listed all the foods he could have made for me. But he did fill my flask and needed my utmost insistence not to add a tot of whiskey to the ‘consistency’
Was happy to get away in the end and paddled well. Across the Belfast Lough which involved some careful judgement of ferry speeds and then on to the epic coastline of the brilliantly named, Islandmagee. Included in the deal was a ruined Victorian walkway below the cliffs which apparently used to be a tourist attraction.
On the advice of two kindly fellows (not so much) I pulled in at Port Muck, a place not deserving of it’s name. It was well set up for me to get rinsed and pitch camp early and the lads fair play were very good to me. Later in the evening I got chatting to some paddlers who’d just got off the water, they were thrilled by my trip and were keen to get on board in some way. They bundled me into a van and stole me away to Carrickfergus. The search for some sort of food outlet was successful and I found myself chatting to paddlers over duck and rice. To top it off they wouldn’t let me pay! Dez, Katrina and Cahal thankyou.
A brief look at the tides suggested a later start would make more sense tomorrow, convenient because much the same as every night, I’m done.