Waterway to have a good time


Another weekend away. This time a work event in Belfast. As usual, I packed my running gear hoping to squeeze in a few miles.

On the Saturday morning I woke early, before the recruitment event began. It was still dark as I ran the three miles south to Hillsborough, or Royal Hillsborough as it is commonly known. Hillsborough Castle is the British royal family's official residence when in Northern Ireland.

When I arrived it was still pitch black, and remained so for the two miles I spent staggering around Hillsborough forest park and lake. I could just about make out the path thanks to the light from the full moon, but I had no depth perception. A tulip statue loomed up out of the darkness and the milky moon reflected murkily in the blackness of the water.


I returned the same way I had come. Half way back I stopped at a local landmark that is noted on Google Maps as Pete's favourite bin. It had eight 5 star reviews including these:

2 months ago

Came through the area on a tour not long after arriving from a plane from Australia. First off, COMPLETELY UNDERESTIMATED the bin. The quaint little bin has some sort of power that gives the user a rush of positive and happy sensations. Would highly recommend anyone who not only lives in the area but anyone who comes to visit this beautiful region of Northern Ireland to also stop by this magnificent bin. You will NOT regret it. 

a week ago
NEW
class bin would recommend

Turns out it is just a bin. Still, I took a selfie.

Pete's favourite bin and me

The rest of the way back was along the hard shoulder of the busy A1 dual carriageway. There was just time for a comedy Christmas photo outside the local M&S. 

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The next day I decided to wait until it was light before heading out. The Premier Inn I was staying in backed onto the River Lagan. From there the waterway headed north towards Belfast. The plan was to follow it for a few miles and then retrace my steps.

It was a ridiculously mild morning for November. There was a strong wind blowing, but it was dry. I headed around the back of the hotel onto the Lagan towpath. Immediately the scene was transformed from an urban city with housing estates and industrial units being served by the M1 motorway, into a tranquil scene from Autumnwatch, the river winding gracefully between banks of willow and birch.


The traffic was still audible, but I removed my headphones to listen to the sounds of robins, wrens and tits singing from the bushes. Moorhens and Canada geese glided along the wide stream. A skein of Mallards quacked loudly before coming into land on the surface with a splssshhhhh.

I was soon in the centre of Lisburn where the trail arrived at Lagan Valley Island. This is the site of Island Arts Centre where there were some interesting sculptures. 




I ran on towards The blue bridge, and just before passing beneath it, saw a flash of blue and orange - a Kingfisher shot across from the far bank to the near one. That made my day. A huge smile stretched from one ear to the other as I made my way out of Lisburn and approached Ballyskeagh.



Some impressive bridges came and went as the views along the river continued to impress. White swans, with mature mottled grey and white cygnets in tow watched as I jogged past. Little Grebes, otherwise known as Dabchicks, spotted me and dived below the water, re-emerging a few seconds later.




The arboreal autumn colours were a screen of yellow, orange, bronze and red. Sweetgum trees were ablaze and spindle trees stunned with neon pink petals enclosing Easyjet orange berries. Pink Indian balsam flowers bloomed along the bank. Otherwise known as policeman's helmet due to the shape of the upper petal with two 'lips' below, these originally come from the Himalayas, but have made their home in Belfast.


Sweetgum tree

Indian Balsam

The river began to wind frantically like a piece of discarded spaghetti. I passed Drumbeg and Sir Thomas and Lady Dixon Park before reaching Ballynahatty. I turned onto a narrow trail that headed uphill - my first elevation of the day after 8.5 miles. This lead to the Giant's Ring, a henge momument. It consists of a circular enclosure surrounded by an 11 feet high earthwork bank. I ran around the circumference and measured it at just short of half a mile. In the centre is a megalithic tomb. It has been dated at 2700 BC, meaning it was constructed before the Egyptian pyramids.


After descending the path back towards the river, I saw a sign for Terrace Hill Garden. I ran through the woods, my footfall softened by the thick carpet of leaf litter. There was a long curved bench inscribed with a quote from Octavia Hill, the founder of the National Trust (see top), and some wooden sculptures. At the end of the path was a terrace garden overlooking the Lagan Valley and Malone House high on the ridge opposite.








The Italian style sunken garden was built by Ned Robinson who made his fortune from the production of linen, for which Lisburn is famous. No doubt it was transported along the same route I had run and on into Belfast Port and sold around the world.

Back on the towpath I continued to Minnowburn car park where I was glad to buy a coffee, a bottle of water and a delicious slice of Orange drizzle cake. I had brought nothing with me and was gasping. 

A mile further on was Old Shaw's Bridge, a construction with five arches named after the builder of the original oak bridge, Captain John Shaw of Oliver Cromwell's army. The current one was built in 1709 and is now pedestrianised, as a newer bridge adjacent to it now carries vehicles on the Belfast outer ring road.


I had run almost 12 miles now, and so decided to head back on the other side of the river. A short distance from the path I noticed signs for Mary Peter's Track. This is home to Lagan Valley AC as well as several other running and triathlon clubs. A statue of Mary Peters, the 1972 Munich Olympic games pentathlon gold medallist, stands overlooking the track that she helped to establish.


The river views on my return were just as beautiful as the sights I had already witnessed earlier that morning, however the sun had emerged and sparkled on the placid water with an occasional ripple from the wind's caress. The denuded branches of the trees reflected in the river surface, looking like the lungs of the planet that they are. 

Above, spiky clumps of twigs and branches clung to bare branches - nests for the hooded crows that whirled and circled above letting out their raucous barks. Fungi crept over rotting tree stumps.




Now back at Lagan Valley Island I had covered 22 miles. It seemed rude not to make it a full marathon distance, so I headed into Lisburn and through the quiet streets. It was Remembrance Sunday. A few men in military uniform made their way to one of the many churches. The Irish Linen Centre and Lisburn museum were closed as were most of the shops and cafes. 





Chinese lanterns and rainbow coloured umbrellas were strung above the alleys in Graham Gardens (photos taken the night before). A solitary cannon sat high above the town. My run had come to an end, but the memories - especially of that Kingfisher - will last a long while.

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