A return to the north coast for 24 hours or less reminded us of years of once a week, in all weathers, all year round, visits to Portrush.
But, what a day! It wasn’t always like this: Clear skies and sunshine; tourists in flowing cotton and sunglasses; children being told of summers past.
From the Causeway to Portballintrae the sea below us roared in blue and milk-white foam; skylarks sang; a peregrine sailed past effortlessly with just a flick of powerful wings; and the butterflies! The best of the year so far: Blues and whites; dark-green fritillaries; small heaths, meadow browns; ringlets – and the burnet moths bringing red and black to the pallet of colours on display.
Could Helen make the walk we would have done in the past? No point in pushing it, but, is she sufficiently recovered? Nearly, and a bit slower, but a step in the right direction. She will probably pay today and be exhausted. We shall see.