Of Mad Dogs and Englishmen

I went to Ballintoy on the north coast of Northern Ireland recently with Anna and the In-laws. Vitali spied a rather interesting wall and joked that he would like to see how far he could walk along it before getting washed off. It was a mistake, for I couldn’t resist the temptation of trying to do just that without of course, the getting washed off bit.

My risk assessment went something like this :

    - Only one wave in four seems to be big enough to make it over the wall

·        -  Of those waves only 50% seem to be big enough to wash you clean off the wall

·         - If you do get washed off you fall into a very big pool. It’s deep enough to break your fall but cold enough to kill you if you don’t get out inside 30 minutes

With all of these three things clearly in my favour I determined it was worth a punt and safely made my way to the end of the wall. What I hadn’t bargained for was the neighbour’s dog wanting to join me. Of course he made his way across without having made any of the above assessments and indeed with no reference at all to what the waves were doing. It was agony as I watched him cross and I saw a wave come right in and give him a good soaking.

We duly studied for a good ten minutes what the sea was capable of then noticing a break in the lashing waves made a dash for it. And No I didn't get taken off the wall by a 6ft wave but very nearly a mad dog on the end of a lead.

Fun, but in a risky sort of way.