Here is an example of the serendipity of travel: What ended up as one of our favorite locales, the craggy beach just before Newcastle, Co. Down, was actually just a stopping place for us to stretch our legs and take a peek at the ocean view. Little did we know there was a coastal path where stunning boulders tumble down to the sea while the Mourne Mountains and Slieve Donard towered behind us. There is even a folk song about this area: The Mountains of Mourne. We clambered around the rocks for quite awhile, up onto precipices, down into hollows. Eventually we found a small stream gliding into the sea. Following it led us under a massive arch beneath the road which revealed another old bridge (Bloody Bridge - thus named because of a massacre during the Rebellion of 1641). I dunked my tired feet into the frigid water and relished the magic here where ancient stones and water convened to cast an unforgettable spell. We counted ourselves lucky to have been drawn to this place.
*See last picture for the information board at the trailhead. Just on the A2 south of Newcastle.
|I was entranced by this stone which appeared to me to be a map.|