Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls
If I were to start a sentence with "I won't ride my bike when..." how would you complete that sentence?
Yesterday I completed it with "...when the waterfalls flow backwards."
According to the weather report last night, Castlerock was "the windiest place in the UK." Having taken the train into Coleraine early morning, on my way back I could hardly stay upright when walking home from the station. The wind felt like a magnetic force pressing me into the ground.
Later in the day, I was out taking photos with a friend when I saw it... There is a series of waterfalls along the cliff edge of Binevenagh Mountain in the Downhill stretch of the coastal road - thin streams of foaming white water, flowing down from a great height. Only this time the streams were flowing up the mountain instead of down. Blown backwards over the cliff's edge, they looked like a set of erratic, rogue fountains.
Unlike anything I've encountered here before, this sight made me feel like a complete slack-jawed tourist. Feebly I tried to capture it on camera, but really I just stared and pointed. "The waterfalls are flowing backwards... They're flowing backwards!!!"
"Sure," said my friend nonchalantly, "the wind gets nasty here. If you threw a brick over that edge there it would come back to you. Not a day to be on your bike hey?"
I imagined cycling up the mountain with a brick in my basket and perhaps some video equipment just to conduct that little experiment. But no, it was not a day for the bike. It was a backward waterfall kind of day.