It had been raining all day. A thick incessant rain that gets under your collar as soon as you go outside. The sky was grey and unyielding apart from a few minutes in the morning when the sun seemed to scratch at the top of the clouds trying to peel them away and then gave up. On the circle of concrete around the top of the pier the water puddled and turned murky before slipping down the drains.
All around the bay flashes of white caught against the light, streams flush with the water from the hills. Up close on the road from Durrus the streams disgorge themselves over the pebbles and stone and in that small distance from hill to water the colours change. Behind the road they are brown and of the earth almost invisible with peat and moss and then there is that last few yards into the sea over black rocks and seaweed and there is a churn of water white and excitable.
It was a good day to go out for lunch at The Good Things Café. The clocks had gone forward which meant that the two o’clock came round more quickly. This was unlike years ago when we made the mistake of putting our watches back instead of forward and arrived for lunch at Heron’s Cove just as they were starting to close the kitchen at 3.00. Fortunately they felt sorry for us and managed to fit us in.
Lunch at The Good Things Café was from a fixed menu of three courses. The starters were either a Jerusalem artichoke soup with cheese or a salad also made with Jerusalem artichokes with some green leaves, shavings of hard cheese and a dressing of anchovies, garlic and oil.
The mains were pan fried hake with mashed potato and braised fennel, roast lamb with roast potato and aubergine with a yogurt dressing and a growers plate of local seasonal vegetables with a beetroot risotto.
Pudding was either meringue, rhubarb fool and stem ginger or a chocolate chilli fondant. The chocolate fondant came piping hot and molten with a small pot of cream.
Everything was plate licking good.
The following morning there was a Great Northern Diver on the water white throated for winter dipping its head in the water before tipping under diving deep for fish. On the beach two grey hooded crows were picking up shells in their beaks flying up about ten feet in the air then dropping the shells onto the rocks on the beach.