David Mitchell

My blog usually gets 40 or 50 hits for any post. The one on Saturday about the North Coast got 15,000, plus whatever the version on Slugger O’Toole got. My slightly ironic holiday project of taking non-Instagrammable holiday snaps, which amused me no end, clearly ran away with itself a bit.

The post struck many chords, and some nerves!

A few thoughts and responses.

• Some found the post unfair. Well it was about grimness. I was assuming that we all know the coast is fantastic, and not all buildings are derelict. I do feel bad that the post may put people off going there (hence the atoning pretty Portrush sunrise and decent building above. See? See how nice it is??). I’ve recommended Portstewart and Portrush to many people as a place to visit. Honest! Still, the photos were not staged. All I did was point and shoot.

• I didn’t guess at why buildings are left derelict or public space isn’t maintained. But those questions naturally follow. I do wonder if the local Council is not motivated to tackle some of the problems because the coast and golf courses will bring people flocking anyway. 

• One person noted something fascinating which had occurred to me before, but I’d forgotten about: that grimness in Portstewart and Portrush may be partly down to the lack of trees.

• People commented that the grim factor is also high in many other seaside towns in these islands. No doubt. I love a good comparative study. (And my own Belfast is not in good shape at the moment.) How therapeutic it would be for all people everywhere who are oppressed by crumbling steps, pebbledash, and decaying sites of seaside fun, to share their photos!

• Why do I go if I think it’s so grim? It’s an affordable and peaceful holiday by the sea, and a doable day trip from Belfast. Also, close family connections. I expect to go there, revelling in the beauty and grimness, for the rest of my days.

Thanks for reading, and for the kind comments, memories, and debate. As for me, I’m already looking forward to the next time I’m at Ramore Head in Portrush or the Crescent in Portstewart, cracking a window to see if it’s safe to get out of the car and wiping the ice cream from dripping knuckles because, believe it or not, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.