In our madness, we went out into the biting winds, hailstones and snow bursts. We ended up taking a walk in a very exposed place. Thank heavens for my old ski jacket, better still, I congratulated myself for thinking of wearing it. I felt the need for a salopettes – they were not very usefully hanging in the wardrobe – but, I was wearing knee high socks under my denims, plus I had put over them shin level thick walking socks to suit my boots. My head was well protected with a quilted lined hat, and of course, the fleece lined hood of my ski jacket that also had a very desirable deep collar.
I took some pictures of what caught my eye, when my eyes were not caught by snow and hail. It looks a bit bleak in its own way, but then it was.
The hard weather has taken its toll on deer; they have come down from their hilltops, often to their detriment.
There was an old ice house in the hill face, looking out towards the sea. It would have served the fishermen who would have set their nets nearby. Being some distance from a harbour, the ice house served as a refrigerator.
and here is part of the outlook from the ice house
With the challenge of the weather conditions, not that you can really see just how difficult they could be from these pictures, we decided, once at the ice house, it was time to turn back. We could only struggle on into more exposed places. It was best to stop while we felt we were ahead of the game.
A wintry view of the return journey.
We struggled against the wind on our way back. There was a halfway car park that we had not used, though we met another couple of people who had. They also stayed on lower levels than we did and said, they found it bracing enough doing that. Bravely, we declined a ride to the top of the path, another quarter mile or so nearer to our car. The last few yards to the car were a dash to get out of the next heavy hailstone battering. It made the flask of hot coffee and snacks all the more enjoyable.