In my distant youth, I attended Belfast School of Art with a band of pals who remain loyal chums to this day through thick and thin. One Easter, this merry band set fourth to stay in Cloughey in a well kept holiday home. The bay beach was windswept and desolate, calling to us as we unloaded sleeping bags and provisions from our internal combustion engine drawn carriages. These memories are in high contrast sepia tones, like Western films half remembered in dreams. We wore our hair long and our cords and jeans flared with elaborate metal chains slung low. Eyebrows were pierced and our shirts were deep shades of plaid inspired by the heroes of grunge that adorned our bedroom walls. We played an energetic game of rounders on the beach deep into the twilight, the tide inching inwards until we were all waist deep in seawater, lost in the friendly competition and cameraderie. Limbs and hair flailed wildly with each energetic sweep of the bat. Sometimes the ball would become lost in the long grass in the dunes. The stars became visible one by one, we turned our heads skyward in wonder as pilgrims to Cloghey have done for thousands of years past and many thousands...
Read moreThis beach is amazing it's about one and a half mile long with clean white sand perfect for fun and games with shallow tide. The car park is large and there are toilets which are reasonably clean. You can walk through the sand dunes via the boardwalk's and dine at the wooden picnic tables provided. Great spot for a good walk...
Read moreOne of Northern Ireland's longest sandy beaches. Convenient parking nearby with wooden walkway onto centre of the beach. Unlike the North Coast beaches - Benone, Portstewart... - there are no majestic cliffs in the distance but, for this walker anyway, there is a certain simple beauty across the flat sand stretching into...
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