Today’s leg, 8k! Hardly worth getting out of bed for, but any more would likely have cost me one or more toes. I had hoped today would see me in Portaferry the port at the base of the Ards peninsula which acts like a drainage valve allowing the unwanted sediment of lost or unwelcome visitors to be tapped off directly back to the main body of the island thus avoiding the necessity of their travelling back up the peninsula. However, Portaferry became an unrealised dream as I had to stop 14k short at Portavogie before the toes on my right foot completely liquefied. Jim, my brother-in-law, having dropped me off only a couple of hours previously turned around and without complaint (to me, anyway) drove the 30 miles back and picked me up again. Both Jim and my sister Cecilia are experienced senior nurses so you know stopping was the right decision when you see these two staring at your elevated foot pulling lemon sucking faces and debating whether a particular moist flap is still attached or not.
Those of you who have read my schedule will know that I had already planned to interrupt the hike for 2 days on 24th and 25th September (ironically because I have to act as the examiner on a hill walking qualification) so I plan to pause my trek a couple of days early to let my feet recover a bit then pick it up again.
But I am glad I at least got to Portavogie because this is not just an old declining seaside harbour town on the Ards peninsula (that honour is held by Ballyhalbert 4k further up the coast, a village containing only Lucy’s Chippy an aura of neglect and unemployed men walking infeasibly small dogs). The photo shows that Portavogie has Quay’s … Ireland’s most easterly restaurant. When I discovered this I couldn’t resist going outside to the furthest edge of the restaurant car park and taking a picture of what was for at least 10 minutes Ireland’s most easterly chicken roll. Ahh, a lesson for us all on the ephemeral nature of fame.
I did come across Eden cottage on the outskirts of the town – all fairy tale chintz, pebble dash, coach lamps, novelty post boxes and ornamental goblin dogs. However, given the gate notice I calculated that fines for my table manners alone would quickly bankrupt me so I didn’t try to enter.
I’ll keep you posted about my foot health, and pick this up again as soon as I am back on the road. Sorry for the interruption in service. I apologise to my Huntington’s sufferer friends who must view my pain or discomfort with something like envy, but would usually be too good natured to say so. You can still donate to support them at Virgin Money Giving | Fundraising | Brendan Major versus the Ulster Way
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