It's mid-afternoon on the end-of-May bank holiday and at the jewel in the Co Down coastline, the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea as they always have.
A light dusting of dark cloud kisses the top of Slieve Donard as it towers high over Newcastle's Donard Park.
But today the cars are snaking past the entrance rather than going in to take on what would normally be a vain quest to find a parking spot.
There's a sharp breeze along the seafront, a suspicion of rain in the air, but since when has that ever put people off trying to spend their bank holiday Monday ambling along to the soundtrack of the waves rolling in, treating the kids to an ice cream or stick of rock and taking in the amusements?
But there's little joy to be found in Joyland today. The shutters are firmly down.
The cars pass by along the main street of the town but most don't stop. They come, they see nothing to do, they pass on by.
Perhaps they were expecting more? But in these times of lockdown, although now with slightly relaxed restrictions, all you can do is queue for an ice cream or a snack at one of the parlours open along the street.
There's a sense of desperation in the air. The families have come, desperate to entertain the children, relieved to be out of the confines of home, but they've found little in the way of amusement. Cyclists have a free run along the footpaths. People jog on by unimpeded.
Even the front of the Newcastle Centre, which is normally lined with scores of motorcycles as leather-clad riders enjoy traditional May bank holiday runs to the coast, is barren. Only a few bikes are parked up. The rest trickle by. They have come in hope and left in disappointment that things, quite simply, aren't how they used to be.
From the bridge over the Shimna River in the heart of the town, a solitary family sit below on the sandy beach as the children play. Social distancing doesn't matter as there's no one to socially distance from today.
Sunday, from all accounts, was a different story. Long queues of cars lined up to get into the town as families gathered to enjoy the clear blue skies and sunshine, despite warnings from health officials and police that they should act "responsibly and reasonably" over the holiday weekend.
Perhaps, by Monday afternoon, word had got around that getting out of the car in one of the local seaside resorts wasn't worth the effort.
And shorn of the usual caravan owners, with the gates locked at the Mourneview park on the main road into town, there was plenty of room for the few willing to break free from home for the day to stroll around town at their leisure.
And as they stretched their legs they did so under the watchful eye of the PSNI, a police car stationed outside an ice cream parlour as a reminder of the times we're living in.
Leaving town, the threatened rain starts to fall. A day that many began in the hope that some things were starting to move back towards a normal way of life hadn't moved as much as they had wanted.