Indiana Bex and the brambles of Cnoc an Donn

Rich tells me I’ve chosen the wrong slant for my blip as the title gives the impression the day was fun. It was not. I have scars. However, it was a fine adventure in the broadest of definitions.

The day began walking along the coast which had the potential to be picturesque. And would have been, had the focus not been on the slippery boulders, aggressive brambles and avoiding the flotsam and jetsam.

CJ on the other hand, had a fine time. Could not have enjoyed it more. For her, the day began with endless plastic bottles to carry and crunch, a faded orange buoy to nudge and chase, a squashed football perfect for mouthing and a Slazenger tennis ball no less (which we have brought home for her.)

After three miles, we met the cows. Rich is not a big fan - a childhood chase. We took the safest line next to the shore but were still faced with the cow pat bog run (which Little Dog obviously lapped up (literally.))

We finally walked inland and made it to the safety of tarmac. But not for long. We were looking forward to a path – for that was the description - up Cnoc an Donn (a little hill called Donn). It wasn’t to be.

Descend to a rather wet gap where four fences join in a swamp, it said. In fact, there was simply a variety of grades of swamp spanning the whole 3 miles of hill. It was rather like walking on a giant lime and blackcurrant jelly but only the dog enjoyed eating any of it. I don’t know what happened in the other two miles. I must have blanked it out.

There were actually a few places where we did enjoy fine views (this blip was one of them.)

I jest a little. The walk was an adventure, not entirely pleasurable but we were outdoors, generally dry and not too windswept. Rich maintains it was the worst walk we’ve ever done. Little Dog reckons it was the best!