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| Click on this image for our track in Google Maps |
I mean, seriously, have you seen the weather we're having?
There's no way we could stay inside with an evening like this: not a cloud in the sky and temperatures that are flirting with the 22-23°C. This may be as close to a summer as we're gonna get here (which is fine by me - 23°C is already little too hot for walking) and given the light of this peaceful late afternoon, we are of course going to head for yet another hike...
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| An orange tip butterfly (Anthocharis cardamines), which is a very common sight in these parts |
Like the proverbial butterfly, that lets itself carried on a random breeze, we changed our initial destination plans at the last minute, while we were already driving away to an initial location I will not disclose. One look towards Ranny Hill and Mulroy Bay was enough to tell that we'd be a fool to go any further, in light of the mesmerizing early dusk conditions we saw there.
Besides, ever since the chain broke on our road-bike, last week, and with a repair that is taking longer than anticipated, we haven't had our dose of Ranny Hill for a while, along which we cycle almost every day. So we're going to minimise the distance travelled and kill two birds with one stone, by granting us some much needed extra minutes to spare once we are back, to help go through all the backlog waiting for us (including about 6 or 7 hike entries, in various state of completion, that I may or may not ever publish)... These last few weeks certainly haven't been very productive, to say the least, and I still don't feel like I have managed to get my groove back yet. This being said, the countryside's secluded paths and hike tracks have lost nothing of their appeal, even more so on a day like this:
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| How could you not want to see what hides behind this corner? |
On this small road, we're happy to find plenty of bluebells still, to agreement the palette of colours offered at our fingertips. After that long never ending winter, spring has finally made its mark, in full force:
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| A prime example of bluebells, sitting on the banks of a sheltered small stream |
Yet, it is time to leave the bluebells and the road behind us, to cut across the large field where some friendly cows are enjoying an vegetarian supper. Or rather, me and them are presently best pals because we are standing on complete opposite ends of the field, with more than ample space in between so that neither of us can be construed as a threat to the other. Not that my upbringing makes me especially weary of cows. But ever since I got chased by a herd of them in Staffordshire (which is yet another thing I may relate in more details some day), I do pay a bit more attention to the apparent friendliness of any large mammal(s) I happen to share a field with...
Yet these cows seem as happy and peaceful as can be, in the pleasant warm evening, so much so that we'll pause to take a snap of Rossgarrow and Bunlin Bay, from the vantage point of this field:
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| The wilderness of Rossgarrow, with Bunlin Bay on its right side |
And now it is time to start our "climb" in earnest. Later in the year, we'd have to cut our way through some packed ferns, but it's still early enough in the season that they're not an issue right now. Plus, there has been a gorse fire on this hill, not so long ago, which makes the slope look a lot more arid than we've used to know. Add to this description a herd of wild goats, which we suddenly stumble upon and, if it wasn't for the lush green patches here and there, we could almost believe ourselves to be standing in the garrigue, somewhere in the south of France...
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| Alas, this herd doesn't come accompanied with a shepherd girl, that also happens to bathe naked in waterfalls... |
Well, we knew there were goats around these parts - we've seen them before. However, we certainly seem to have hit the mother lode this evening, as the five ones that quickly run away from us are but a tiny part of the herd we'll come across at the top...
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| Leftover gorse from an earlier fire |
For now, we'll just cross some more remnants of burnt gorse, that cracks with a crisp sound under our feet as we complete this easy climb. Already the views from the top are about as spectacular as we anticipated:
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| Some of the small islands of Mulroy Bay |
Of course, we can't avoid also saying a quick hello to the herd we spoke of earlier, while ensuring we maintain enough distance as we push further, to ensure the mothers in there don't see us as a threat for their young ones:
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| The large herd of goats that appears to have taken residence on top of Ranny Hill |
From the northern side of the plateau, we take a quick snap of Ranny Point, without failing to notice that everything seems to be called "Ranny" around here. I guess either (what I assume to be) some Ranny guy must have been famous... or, more likely, have done something very stupid while intoxicated, to have left his name all over this place:
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| "And here is the place where a drunk Ranny fell into the sea while trying to walk back home..." |
Now, as we look back towards the islands, we spot some sea kayaks.
I definitely gotta get in touch with these guys at some stage, as I can definitely see myself going out onto the bay into one of those... Or, I might very well buy myself an open canoe, and just paddle away on my own, since I live this close to the bay.
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| Two kayakers, paddling between the welcoming islands of Mulroy Bay |
I guess, between the cycling, swimming and hiking, this is just another attempt to add another activity, so that I can indulge in eating even more cake, chocolate bars and ice cream, than I really should.
Speaking of which, I'm starting to get hungry, so it's probably time to head back...
Suggested Sound Track
Seems like a weird pick for an evening where I feel just fine. You gotta wonder what the heck I may be listening to, on the days I feel depressed... Then again, since it's my duty to document the paths I walk on, I can tell you exactly how we got to that song. So buckle up, and enjoy the ride...
See, we mentioned butterflies we saw at the very beginning. And, as I was walking, that got me wondering how comes the English language doesn't have an equivalent to the French verb "papilloner" (literally "to butterfly around"), which means to idly go from one thing to another according to a set of capricious external conditions. Strangely, while one may think that "beelining" could have been used to describe something similar (I mean, where's the "straight to the goal" implication if you have ever witnessed a bee go from flower to flower), and unlike what was my impression until very recently, it means the exact opposite.
And while we're on the subject of "papilloner", we of course remember the movie "Papillon", based on the book of the same name, starring Dustin Hoffman and Steve McQueen... the latter happening to be the title of a Prefab Sprout album, where one where one can find a track with the a propos lyric "Have you seen the weather?" (which, as opposed to the context of the song, very much describes our elated feeling tonight). It may not be September, and it certainly isn't raining. But as soon as we latched onto remembering this part of the song, we knew we had found our carrier signal for this evening.
Besides, Prefab Sprout's Steve McQueen is one of the first CDs I remember buying, in downtown Birmingham, right around the time I was being chased by herds of cows across fields, during the few months I spent in Staffordhire... Sounds close enough to full circle to me!
Additional Pictures
