I've always loved the North coast. Not because of Kelly's (as a great woman once said, "do I look like the sort of person who wants to drink piss for a pound?"), and only partially because of childhood memories of the place. The other part is when in November 2004 I went to my quiet place (where I'm standing in this photgraph) to clear my head and sort out what I truly wanted out of life. I got up at 5.45 on a cold morning (threatening rain) and walked to Lisburn train station to get the 6.45 to Coleraine with a connection to Portrush there. When I got there I bought myself a notebook, a pen, 10 B&H and a deadly fried breakfast. I then headed to the rocks on the seafront and got down to business.
What came out onto the page surprised even me. Stuff I was concealing underneath conscious thought out of nothing but fear and loyalty. I condemned university. I was cruelly blunt to my Dad for what he had done to me tearing me away from my home and my life. I also remained uncaring of the "consequences" I thought I would receive when I told him I didn't believe in God or any kind of spiritual level anymore (a year before I actually did anything about it). I was nasty to Seanna as well, as I blamed her for every single argument we had and accused her of not appreciating me. Gareth (my brother) too got the sharp end of the stick for "what he put us through" when he was having trouble at school. Had I just tried to understand him, it would have made life a lot easier.
Anyway, I came home and I had changed significantly. I was no longer afraid of my perception of my Dad. I was starting rows with Seanna over nothing, looking for an excuse to finish it (which I eventually got the following February). I went to church but no longer displayed the zealous characteristics of my mid-teenage counterpart.
You may think "How was that a happy or positive experience for you?". Well, to be honest I went through hell, but as I said in the Seahill blog, by June everything was going well again. And a year on from the break up, Seanna and I have never been so close.
Without this day trip to Portrush, I may never have escaped from my own fears and perceptions. And I'd probably still be grudgingly going to church.