Belfast to Stranraer: E2 Day 38

The day when I left Ireland and arrived in Scotland.

The official E2 path in Britain starts at Stranraer, chosen as ferries from Northern Ireland traditionally docked there. From Stranraer, the E2 follows a number of interlinking national and regional trails to either Harwich, for ferries to the Netherlands, or Dover for ferries to France. For both alternatives the E2 follows the Southern Upland Way, then St Cuthbert's Way and then the original British long distance path of modern times, the Pennine Way.

I decided to walk to the ferry from my hotel near the centre of Belfast. Catching the 96 bus would have been a more sensible option as it was an 8 kilometre walk on busy roads, much of it through industrial areas. Some of the roads I had already plodded along in the opposite direction to reach the centre of Belfast on the Ulster Way. Trees had been planted to make these areas a little more pleasant and at least there were pavements to safely walk on. The cranes at Belfast's port also had a certain attraction by virtue of their size and solidity as they moved containers around. 

Cranes of Port Belfast.

As is my custom I arrived early in case there were any difficulties so had a long wait at the ferry terminal, slightly lengthened by a delay to my sailing. This and the two hour 20 minute ferry journey meant I ate more pastries than I should have. Once aboard and underway I looked back at Belfast receding in the ship's wake, while a car below me sounded its alarm and flashed its indicators thinking the sea's gentle rocking was an intruder. A shower forced me inside where I found almost all the seats taken. The newspaper I had bought said consumer confidence had fallen to its lowest level since records began, however there was a full boatload of tourists (the truckers had their own lounge).

Leaving Belfast behind.

Ferries no longer go to Stranraer (although the train still waits for them at the end of the town's jetty). Now the boats dock at Cairnryan, half way up Loch Ryan, a deeper water harbour first developed in the Second World War in case Clydeside and Liverpool were made unusable by enemy action. So I had a 12 kilometre walk down the side of the loch to reach Stranraer and my hotel. I followed the Loch Ryan Coastal Path which ran between the water and the road. When overgrown with gorse and brambles I dropped down to the pebbly beach. Two helpful bridges were provided over streams, although one of the burns had now gone around the bridge, so you had to cross the water to reach the bridge. Helpful information boards described areas on the way, such as where a Norman castle once stood. 

Loch Ryan Coastal Path through Cairnryan.

Near Stranraer the road was closed for resurfacing. In typical British fashion, one man was working, operating a steam roller, another four in yellow work jackets were having a chat, two more were sitting in their vans with their engines running, another truck had its engine running but no-one inside, at each end of the site a man in a van guarded the entry, moving a cone to allow an occasional lorry through. In unrelated "activity", on the foreshore men were digging into the mud with garden forks for something, maybe lug worms for bait.

The area feels different to those areas of Ireland I recently visited. Sailing into the Loch Ryan the land each side was more remote, with few or no houses. Stranraer lies on the shore at the top end of Loch Ryan. The town of small, solid shops and houses feels huddled down around a medieval tower, ready to face storms, somewhat passed its peak, but still a lively place on a Friday night with plenty of cheerfully lit bars to choose from. As I walked into the bar that acts as the reception for my "hotel", I could feel people, all men, looking at me, an outsider. The landlord rescued me and gave me my the key to my room which has been recently decorated, is clean, tidy and reasonably priced. 

I now need to prepare for a few nights camping.