Day 97: Newtownabbey - Glenarm

In the morning I woke up and… what a surprise! The car park was full of cars. No idea where they came from, because last night there were hardly any of us (well, not hardly any, that gives me the creeps). Even so, it was still quiet and I was able to take my morning walk, sniffing each wheel calmly.

We left at about half past eleven and, after a short drive, arrived at the visitor centre of something that sounded very exciting: the Gobbins Cliff Path. It's a path hanging on the cliffs, with walkways and tunnels clinging to the sea. A perfect place to feel the wind in your ears and smell the salt air like crazy. But… the lady at the entrance, very nice she was, told us that there was no space for today. Luckily, instead of sending us back with our tails between our legs, she advised us to go to Whitehead, just ten minutes away, where there was a trail that led to the Blackhead lighthouse.

And off we went. The walk started quietly, along a path by the sea, but soon became wilder, with sections clinging to the rock and the sea breaking just below. I went from side to side sniffing every corner, listening to the seagulls squawking and feeling that coolness of the sea breeze that ruffles my whiskers. And at the end… the lighthouse! Big, white, planted like a guardian that has been watching over the entrance to Belfast Lough for centuries.

We went back to the camper, ate (well, they ate, I devoured) and afterwards, with full bellies, we took a walk through Whitehead itself. And… my goodness, the houses! Facades painted with such bright colours that not even in my wildest dreams of chasing balls had I seen so much mixing: electric blue, bubblegum pink, freshly cut grass green… I think I even went a little cross-eyed from so much visual joy.

Then it was time to drive to Glenarm. We found a car park next to the harbour and went to explore the village. Glenarm is like a painting: stone houses, a church that looks like it came out of a fairy tale and the entrance to a castle that surely hides a million stories (and hopefully also a million sausages). The problem is that the day was grey and foggy, so it seemed a bit sad and with few souls on the street.

Here is the corrected paragraph so that it flows better and maintains the tone:

The car park, where motorhomes usually stop to spend the night, had a sign warning that it was not possible right now due to some event. As we didn't want to be woken up at five in the morning to be kicked out, we looked for another place and found it very close by, also facing the sea. There is only one other camper here and we have views of the marina, the beach and… the car park where they wouldn't let us stay. God willing, we will sleep soundly tonight. And if not, I can always bark to scare them away and leave us in peace.