It may be mid winter but occasionally, just occasionally the fourth season of the year provides a bright and dry day even if the temperature is tending towards negative territory. Yesterday was one of those rare pet days. Having crossed the international border to avail of the twenty pence per litre saving in the price of diesel I decided to continue my journey into the South in a northerly direction towards Moville. It calls itself a town but in terms of population it is really a village. I prefer villages to towns. Cities are even further down my like list.
I parked at Montgomery Terrace overlooking Lough Foyle. When he was a young man my grandfather spent the summer months in Moville travelling to his work in Londonderry every morning by streamboat and taking the same route back in the early evening. It is strange to think that that was some one hundred and fifteen years ago. I suspect that it was the S S Seamore that he travelled on. It was one of the tenders that met the American liners just off Moville.
I have walked a portion of the shore walk from Moville to Greencastle on several occasions but never the full distance. It isn't that far perhaps two and a half miles. I decided to run along the path as part of my training run. It takes one past several Victorian villas. Up until seven or eight years ago the owners of the largest of these shoreside residences had a small herd of deer in their fields. I was able to make good time over the first half of the route but thereafter I had to cross various small beaches and traverse rather rocky portions. Rather than retrace my steps I ran through Greencastle up onto the top road and from thence back to Moville completing my 10k at the harbour. A strange sculpture has been erected at the end of the pier. I'm not sure what it is meant to represent but it looks a bit like a fishing float. I have probably misinterpreted the symbolism!