Around Britain

At Newcastle I took the Metro to Tynemouth. The train was constructed just like the trains on the London Underground. There appeared to be three routes; to South Shields, the Airport and The Coast. I took the latter which travelled in a circle like the London Circle Line. I was on my way by 1410.

I stopped briefly by the ruins of Tynemouth Priory. A picture showed a re-construction of the building as it might have been in the 13th century. The site was impressive, looking down on the mouth of the Tyne. A ferry and another ship came in during the brief period that I watched.

I passed the Grand Hotel and other impressive buildings along the sea front. The village of Cullercoats had been a mining village, exporting both coal and salt, before turning to fishing when the mines were exhausted. Whitley Bay, with its fine sands, had obviously been a big resort. Ahead, I could see the lighthouse on St Mary's Island. As I turned off the road towards the lighthouse, I came across a sign. This indicated that Blyth was 4 miles away, Berwick-on-Tweed 77 and Edinburgh 178.

At Seaton Sluice I left the road to join a good path through an area of sand dunes. As I entered Blyth I took the lesser road passing alongside the docks. Soon I passed the Ridley Hotel. It had only just gone 5 so it was too early for me to stop. However, after my recent troubles, I was anxious to secure a place before it became too late. Blyth had quite a few hostelries but none seemed to offer accommodation. As I stared up at one pub, looking in vain for a sign that accommodation was provided, a man said ‘All right' – that seems to be the prevalent form of greeting round here. He then directed me back to the Steamboat Inn. I was reluctant to retrace my steps but he didn't know of any alternative. A young barman at the Steamboat said I could have B&B for £24. The breakfast was continental so I could help myself at any time I wanted. However, he warned me that the noise of the disco might be a problem. It would continue until midnight or perhaps even to 1 am. That made me decide to carry on. He recommended the Kitty Brewster in Bebside, a couple of miles on from Blyth.

Just beyond Blyth's main street, I came upon the Thoroton Arms. A sign on the front indicated that they offered B & B. The girl at the bar could not deal with my enquiry as she didn't speak much English and perhaps didn't have the authority. Another girl told me that breakfast was served at 9 am. It was agreed that I would forgo breakfast and that the price would be reduced from £25 to £20. Whilst the girls conferred on which room I should have, a man in his late thirties came up alongside. He told me that I'd probably get Room 11 as the occupant had been thrown out last night. My informant had Room 10. I sensed a threat in this man's familiarity although he spoke with a grin. The senior girl then told me that there was no room available. I walked out immediately without questioning her as I was relieved that I was not to be staying in such an establishment.

The Kitty Brewster had Karioke that evening. They agreed to B&B for £25 but breakfast wouldn't be served until 9am. I agreed to take the bed only for £20. The barman assumed I had a bicycle and was mildly surprised to learn that I was walking. No evening meal was provided but I was directed to Scaramangas down the road back towards Blyth. It served Mediterranean cuisine and was excellent. The owner told me that the restaurant had been set up by locals and it would normally be fully booked on Friday and Saturday night. He thought there was a slight recession and that people were also starting to save up for Christmas.

My room was small with a basin. A separate bathroom and lavatory were across the corridor. I could make my own tea and coffee and it was altogether quite adequate.

I was on the road for 4 and a quarter hours today. 11.87 miles Total 1,179.81

I left at 0800, bought the Independent and ate a Big Breakfast in MacDonalds. I discovered that my route lay along a national cycle route. That was why the barman expected me to have a bike last night. I crossed the River Blyth, left the A189 and entered the outskirts of Bedlington. After East Sleekburn, I came to a section where the cycle path ran alongside the A189. It started with one of the 1000 metal signs that Royal Bank of Scotland has funded for the National Cycle Network. It told me that I was 15 miles from Tynemouth and 7 from Cresswell. The road crossed the River Wansbeck. Just upstream there was a weir. Three trees had been caught going over the weir.

At the next roundabout I decided to turn off into North Seaton. I walked through an enormous housing estate. North Seaton merged seamlessly into Hirst and then Ashington. My destination was a bus station. As I arrived there two buses were about to leave for Newcastle. I boarded the first one. Today I was out only two and a quarter hours. I could have gone to Newbiggin-by-the-Sea but I was not sure that I would have been able to get a bus from there. 7 miles Total 1,186.81

After a long gap I took the train to Newcastle again. At the bus station there were clear directions and a good service to Ashington. After leaving the Ashington bus station, I crossed the A197, crossed a railway line and headed north. I was in an old coal mining area. Ashington Colliery had closed on 1988. The enormous slag heap had been levelled and planted over with trees. I followed a cinder track. Far to my right, beyond Queen Elizabeth 11 Country Park, were the aluminium works. I joined the A1068 and had to walk along it until the Ellington turn off. I crossed over the River Lyne and, at Cresswell, reached the coast. The place was dominated by Cresswell Towers caravan park. The tower marked on the map as an ancient building was the home of the Cresswell family in the 14th and 15th centuries. The parapet and turret is 18th century. A stretch of high stone wall with large wooden gates survived.

Beyond Cresswell, the coastal road was flooded in two places. It was bad enough to stop most cars but I got through on the embankments at the road side although, at one point, the flood water was well over my ankles. Open cast mines had been converted into lakes. The National Trust owned part of this coast line and there were a series of nature reserves. Next to one lake there was a hide. I entered and was momentarily baffled. There appeared to be no opening apart from the door. Then I noticed a couple of wooden flaps. By releasing catches I was able to lift them and look out. I gazed on three upended ducks.

Occasionally I caught glimpses of Druridge Bay through the dunes. I reached a country park and an elderly man spoke to me. “Where are the cars coming from?” he asked. “How did they get here?” When I checked my map afterwards I saw that we were on a road which led, via a junction, to the A1068. I took his questions seriously but could not give him a definitive answer. Nonetheless, we parted on good terms. It's good to make contact with someone, however futile the conversation may be.

Amble came into view as I passed Hadston Carrs. This was an area of rock, barely above sea level, just offshore. Coquet Island was close to where the River Coquet entered the sea. I called at 20 Marine Road, the B&B that I had booked on the internet a few days beforehand for £40. This caution seemed unnecessary as there lots of places to stay. There were plenty of takeaways but no places to eat in apart from a pub which advertised its curry night on Thursday. My landlady recommended the Marina but I did not find this until the following morning as I was leaving the town. She said I could bring a take away back to the room provided I was careful as the room had cost her £2,500 to do up. I said that the room looked good and that, in any case, I preferred to eat out.

I rested in my room and ate the chocolate chip muffin she had provided. I had also been given a jug of milk, one tea bag and some instant coffee granules. The walls of the shower, I discovered, had escaped from their runners and flapped inwards. The plastic lavatory seat had become completely detached from the bowl. In the pub, I had Chicken Tikka Masala. The papadum hung limply from my hand and the chicken was rather too rubbery for my taste. A large party on the far side of the bar became very loud. Stories were embellished with fucking this and thats. The women went into hysterical fits of uncontrolled laughter. Great wags stamped their reputation but who would remember their words next morning. The TV showed a series of horse races which everyone ignored. None of the horses really seemed to be trying. The least lazy won each time.

I arrived in Amble about 6 pm. 12.71 miles Total 1199.52

I spoke to my landlady over breakfast. She was a single mum aged 39. Her 7 year old daughter was so clever she was 3 years ahead of her class. She'd written a poem about pirates in class and her mother could not believe that she'd composed it. The father was useless and had to be compelled to pay maintenance for the child. She said that if she asked a friend to look after a hamster, she would insist on paying. She was a creationist and dismissed the idea of evolution. She spoke of her father who'd died last year aged 78. She said the doctor attending him in hospital had called him a fool in Latin. Her father had then spoken to the doctor in Latin and the doctor had apologised. The daughter joined us. Her mother wanted her to go to University but worried about the expense. She was going to investigate the possibility of scholarships. She showed me a display case of large tropical beetles that she'd inherited from her father.

The previous evening, when she discovered I was a retired solicitor, she told me, at some length, of a claim for compensation she'd pursued against the NHS. She was a whistleblower and she claimed compensation, presumably for dismissal. After years of litigation she settled out of court.

I set out about 9 am and passed two restaurants on the outskirts of the town, including the one recommended by my landlady. The town had grown rapidly in the 19th century from a village with about 150 inhabitants. There was a natural harbour where the River Coquet flowed into the sea. This proved ideal for use by the local coal mines. The population increased to well over 2,000.

I approached Warkworth on an elevated road which gave me an early view of Warkworth Castle. I walked close to this on a footpath and saw a strange flag flying from a tower. It was a red square on a white background. The castle stood on a hill above the River Coquet on the edge of the town. The castle, built in the early 12th century, was besieged and taken by the Scots in 1173. A chain of castles was established to defend against the Scots including Bamburgh, Alnwick and Warkworth. In 1327 the Scots besieged it twice unsuccessfully. It became a favourite residence of the Percy family but Henry IV besieged and took it when Percy, Lord of Warkworth, became involved in Archbishop Scropes' rebellion against the King in 1405. The castle fell into disrepair when the Percy family, Dukes of Northumberland, chose to rebuild Alnwick as their principal residence.

After a short spell on the A1068, I took the coastal path and approached Alnmouth on the opposite bank of the River Aln. I encountered a couple with the man in shorts striding ahead and the woman trailing behind with her head down. She did respond when I greeted her. The husband was planning to walk St Oswalds Way, 97 miles, in three days. When I said I was catching the 11.04 at Alnmouth Station, he said I would have to push. I jogged and walked and reached the station at 11 am. 6.8 miles Total 1206.32

Train delayed so I did not start out from Alnmouth until 2.37 pm. My target was Seahouses but I had not booked. I had taken the precaution of making a list of places to ring including a late booking agency promising bargain rates.

I changed into singlet and shorts and start running/walking. Shortly after passing the fringes of Alnmouth, it was a setback to see a sign to Craster 9.5 miles. I hoped that was the distance by road, not the shorter coastal route. I followed the cycle path indicated on my map. There were quite a few people about. With the economic downturn and the weakness of sterling, it's said that more people are taking their holidays at home. At Boulmer there was a public loo, a pub and a few houses and nothing else. Between the road and the shore lobster pots were piled up. Just beyond the village a sculptor in metal had put birds on the wall beside the path. I saw three, one being recognisable as an owl. Was this an unrecognised artist who could only get an audience in this way? I might have bought one but there was no clue as to his identity. I suppose I could have returned to the pub and enquired, but I didn't have time and anyway the pub might have been closed.

Fortunately the coastal route was shorter by about two miles. As I approached Craster I could see a large castle beyond the village. I sat in the bus shelter at 5 pm and pondered. I decided to press on as I had made good time and it was a fine evening with cool sea breezes. Beyond Craster the skyline was dominated by Dunstanburgh Castle – no doubt one of the line of castles to resist Scottish incursions. It stood impressively on the edge of a cliff above an inlet. The waves battered the cliff face beneath the walls. The entrance was spectacular as towers on either side of the gate had lost chunks of stonework. The distorted and exposed remnants looked insecure guardians of the entrance. The next gale would surely bring them down even though they had stood since the 14th century. It was built by Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, and subsequently held by John of Gaunt. As I looked back on the castle I could see the 14th century Lilburn Tower. This was a watchtower in a well-preserved state on the far side of the castle to the gate.

I now entered Embleton Bay. Inland there were golfers on one of the many golf courses that I encountered. The sandy beach was well populated. The path snaked among sand dunes. No direction could be maintained for long and I got sand in my shoes. I passed a series of self-catering cottages available by the week. At Low Newton-by-the-Sea I asked about accommodation at the Ship Inn. The barmaid told me there was only self-catering accommodation on this part of the coast. It was 1830 and I decided to book my accommodation otherwise I would just worry about it. The late bookings outfit kept me waiting in a queue and then couldn't help. Was it just a scam to run up a bill on a premium line? The second hotel I rang gave me a single at £56.

I passed through a nature reserve in Beadnell Bay crossing a long bridge over Brunton Burn. I came to a caravan park south of Beadnell where people were cooking their dinners. At Seahouses there were shops, restaurants and hotels. Mine, the Beach House Hotel, was on the far side of the town on the way to Bamburgh. Later I sat in the hotel dining room, watching the light fade over the Farne Islands. There was a lighthouse on the nearest island and a buoy carrying a light in between the island and the mainland. A large party in the dining room noisily contemplated an imminent wedding. An elderly woman, veteran of many such occasions, thought that all one needed to say was to thank everyone for being there and tell them to have a wonderful time.

I was out about five and a half hours. 17.66 miles Total 1223.98

There was some trouble with my credit card before I was able to leave the hotel. The company wanted to do a security check. That took a while. We had to phone back and they didn't answer for some time. Charmingly, the man at the reception desk said I could send them a cheque when I got home. I said that wouldn't be necessary as I also had a debit card with me. Then the company wanted me to verify a recent transaction which I did. It was 0950 before I got away.

I decided to leave the coastal road as there was no pavement. At Shoreston Hall I turned up a dead end road. A shepherd was working a flock of sheep with two dogs in the distance. Later I met the flock coming out of a gate onto the road. I stopped to allow them priority. The two dogs brushed past me as if I wasn't there. They'd seen the sheep turn down the road instead of crossing. In no time the flock was back on course. Ahead I could see Bamburgh Castle perched on a mound of basalt. I continued on a path over fields with this magnificent building dominating the landscape. It was the first castle to be taken as a result of cannon fire. Little of the original survives but it was restored and is now in use and occupied by the Armstrong family.

Bamburgh seemed busy. There were shops, hotels, pubs and restaurants. I found a shop run by an elderly couple with a nursery (for plants) and a general store which stocked the FT. There followed a section along the B1342 descending towards Budle Bay, a huge nature reserve. It looked as if the sea was contained by a sand bar at low tide. At Waren Mill, I escaped the main road and took a minor road to Belford. This crossed the railway and the A1. At Belford a sign indicated that Berwick was 18 miles on the cycle route. That was my route as the more direct alternative was the A1. It was 12.20 so I'd only been out 2.5 hours. Nevertheless I found a coffee bar for a baked potato lunch. It was run by pleasant woman who gave me a hot water refill for my teapot. I bought some Brack – a local form of tea loaf.

I decided to leave the 18 miles for another day and caught the bus to Newcastle via Morpeth. 8.5 miles Total 1232.48

I caught the 9 o'clock train from Kings Cross to Newcastle and then the bus to Belford. I started at 1420 and began running when I had climbed the hill out of the town.

To my right, I could see Budle Bay with the high tide covering the sands. I kept to the cycle route through Middleton, Detchant and Fenwick. As I left Fenwick, I turned off the B road. The map indicated a path which might shave something off the distance. The path was so little used I lost it and ended up near the pub at West Mains. This error added about a mile. Back on route I passed near Hunting Hall and then through Lowick Mill and Berryburn. There was hardly any traffic and only the odd walker and cyclist. After Ancroft Mill I reached the A1 along which I walked for a short stretch until the turn off to Cheswick. The road beyond Cheswick took me over the railway and through a nature reserve between the railway line and the sea. This was not far from Berwick so there more people about. At first I followed a cycle track but this became a road and there were a few parking places.

From the cliff top, I looked down on linear rock formations dividing the sandy beaches. I joined a minor road which took me into Spittal and then through the docks area. I crossed the Tweed on the old bridge and then took the A6105 out of the town past prosperous houses and across the A1 to reach Meadow Hill Guest House. I had booked this the day before. The four places I rang within the town were all full. I had taken 4 and a half hours to do about 20 miles. After a quick shower I walked back into the town for a meal at the Castle Hotel. This is where L.S.Lowry used to stay.

My Guest House is close to the site of the 1333 battle of Halidon Hill. Edward III was laying siege to Berwick which had been in Scottish hands since 1318. With his army was the recently deposed King of Scotland, Edward Balliol. A larger Scottish Army had come to lift the siege. The town had attempted to negotiate a truce and it was agreed that the siege would be lifted if one of three things happened by an agreed date; the Scots won a pitched battle, the Scots crossed a stipulated reach of the Tweed or 200 Scottish men-at-arms were inserted into the town. On the agreed date the Scots advanced but left their horses behind as the ground was boggy. The English long bows checked the advance and did much damage. The fleeing Scots suffered heavy losses as the chasing English were on horseback. The town surrendered.

19.14 miles Total 1251.62