A retrospective thread of the first leg of my
hike around Northumberland in July 2019. #ANorthumberlandOdyssey
Inspired by my late friend, Dorothy Pearson.
Part 1: Coast and castles π§΅
hike around Northumberland in July 2019. #ANorthumberlandOdyssey
Inspired by my late friend, Dorothy Pearson.
Part 1: Coast and castles π§΅
Day 1a:
This is the first long-distance hike I've done since Uni. I borrow a bivvy bag from a friend, pack my old Trangia, stagger to the Coast Road & catch a bus to Blyth.
I'm greeted by sculpture 'Spirit of the Staiths' that represents the old and new of Northumberland.
This is the first long-distance hike I've done since Uni. I borrow a bivvy bag from a friend, pack my old Trangia, stagger to the Coast Road & catch a bus to Blyth.
I'm greeted by sculpture 'Spirit of the Staiths' that represents the old and new of Northumberland.
Day 1b:
I pick up signs for 'England Coast Path' and head north, wiggling around the Blyth & Wansbeck estuaries.
The wind chimes the masts of sailboats and rattles the shutters of an abandoned industrial gatehouse. Rat-a-tat-tat.
Redshank whistle, Shelduck waggle, Eiders bob.
I pick up signs for 'England Coast Path' and head north, wiggling around the Blyth & Wansbeck estuaries.
The wind chimes the masts of sailboats and rattles the shutters of an abandoned industrial gatehouse. Rat-a-tat-tat.
Redshank whistle, Shelduck waggle, Eiders bob.
Day 1c:
I reach Lynemouth Power Station at dusk and can't walk a step further.
My first camp is a ramshackle affair: army surplus bivvy bag; plastic sheet found in the shed; a trekking pole held with string.
I bend over to unpack & make dinner. The ground is a long way down.
I reach Lynemouth Power Station at dusk and can't walk a step further.
My first camp is a ramshackle affair: army surplus bivvy bag; plastic sheet found in the shed; a trekking pole held with string.
I bend over to unpack & make dinner. The ground is a long way down.
Day 1d:
But I'm distracted as the setting sun transfigures the blocky structure - a wisp of smoke rises into indigo clouds striated with luminous amber.
I lie, but can't sleep. All I can hear is an incessant grating. I stuff tissue paper into my ears. Camping heaven.
But I'm distracted as the setting sun transfigures the blocky structure - a wisp of smoke rises into indigo clouds striated with luminous amber.
I lie, but can't sleep. All I can hear is an incessant grating. I stuff tissue paper into my ears. Camping heaven.
Day 2a:
Sunrise, 4.30am...
Words are unnecessary, but you can't see the cold.
Sunrise, 4.30am...
Words are unnecessary, but you can't see the cold.
Day 2b:
Northumberland's county flower 'Bloody Cranebill' shouts out from the marram grass, glowing in the morning rays.
Nearby are the acidic-yellow spikes of Wild Mignonette.
A dozen house-martins whirlpool above, flashing white rumps.
Northumberland's county flower 'Bloody Cranebill' shouts out from the marram grass, glowing in the morning rays.
Nearby are the acidic-yellow spikes of Wild Mignonette.
A dozen house-martins whirlpool above, flashing white rumps.
Day 2c:
I pass the small village of Cresswell before reaching the grand sweep of Druridge Bay. I walk like a haggis on the sloping sand for mile after mile. Dunes on my left, sea on my right, sand underfoot...
It becomes a kind of meditation.
I pass the small village of Cresswell before reaching the grand sweep of Druridge Bay. I walk like a haggis on the sloping sand for mile after mile. Dunes on my left, sea on my right, sand underfoot...
It becomes a kind of meditation.
Day 2d:
After spotting a pod of dolphins in the bay π¬π¬π¬, I reach Amble 'The Friendliest Port'.
Wetsuit clad boys lark about in the harbour amongst the lobster pots, jumping into the water and climbing up the metal ladder. Surfers swim across the bay to reach the North Pier.
After spotting a pod of dolphins in the bay π¬π¬π¬, I reach Amble 'The Friendliest Port'.
Wetsuit clad boys lark about in the harbour amongst the lobster pots, jumping into the water and climbing up the metal ladder. Surfers swim across the bay to reach the North Pier.
Day 2e:
Warkworth Castle makes an impressive backdrop on the horizon before a field of red poppies. The scene is a landscape version of the WW1 memorial: 'Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red'.
Warkworth Castle makes an impressive backdrop on the horizon before a field of red poppies. The scene is a landscape version of the WW1 memorial: 'Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red'.
Day 2f:
Second night out.
A canny view for dinner, until clouds of midges rise from the grass. They cover my hands, crawl through my hair, buzz in my ears, and die in my trifle.
Second night out.
A canny view for dinner, until clouds of midges rise from the grass. They cover my hands, crawl through my hair, buzz in my ears, and die in my trifle.
Day 3a:
The journey north continues up the illuminated Northumberland coast. I pass iconic sights: Alnmouth estuary, Boulmer tractors, Howick Bathing House.
The journey north continues up the illuminated Northumberland coast. I pass iconic sights: Alnmouth estuary, Boulmer tractors, Howick Bathing House.
Day 3b:
Near Coquet Island I stop to watch a man flying a model biplane. He sports a green cap and wellies. There, silhouetted against the sea, stands a master puppeteer. The plane climbs and loops, banks and dives; it spins left and right, wheels akimbo.
Near Coquet Island I stop to watch a man flying a model biplane. He sports a green cap and wellies. There, silhouetted against the sea, stands a master puppeteer. The plane climbs and loops, banks and dives; it spins left and right, wheels akimbo.
Day 3c:
A lovely path climbs out of Alnmouth. I pause to listen...
"Ping
Ssssh, ssssh
Crunch, crackle-crunch... rustle
Z,ZZzzzzzzzzz,Z,Zzzzz,Zzzzzzzz
Crawww, crawww
Twe, twe, tw, tw, tw,twtwtwtw, tw, tw, tw
Hhhhrrr, HHHrrr, HHHrrr"
Natural sounds - a Sonic Wonderland
A lovely path climbs out of Alnmouth. I pause to listen...
"Ping
Ssssh, ssssh
Crunch, crackle-crunch... rustle
Z,ZZzzzzzzzzz,Z,Zzzzz,Zzzzzzzz
Crawww, crawww
Twe, twe, tw, tw, tw,twtwtwtw, tw, tw, tw
Hhhhrrr, HHHrrr, HHHrrr"
Natural sounds - a Sonic Wonderland
Day 3d:
North of Alnmouth the coastline becomes more rugged and remote.
A smart male stonechat, in full breeding plumage, perches on a thistle a few feet away. He flicks his short tail impatiently whilst voicing his hallmark sound: two pebbles sticking together.
North of Alnmouth the coastline becomes more rugged and remote.
A smart male stonechat, in full breeding plumage, perches on a thistle a few feet away. He flicks his short tail impatiently whilst voicing his hallmark sound: two pebbles sticking together.
Day 3e:
I pitch up for the evening at the top of a 295 million-year-old cliff of Whin Sill, home to a gregarious colony of kittiwakes. I listen to their chattering as I eat.
To the north is another Northumberland landmark: Dunstanburgh Castle.
I pitch up for the evening at the top of a 295 million-year-old cliff of Whin Sill, home to a gregarious colony of kittiwakes. I listen to their chattering as I eat.
To the north is another Northumberland landmark: Dunstanburgh Castle.
Day 4a:
There is another lustrous sunrise in the morning. A search-beam burnishes a golden path across a silver sea from horizon to shore. Herringbone clouds are riven with streaks of mercury.
But my bivvy bag is wet and cold; my unshaven chin prickles like a scouring pad.
There is another lustrous sunrise in the morning. A search-beam burnishes a golden path across a silver sea from horizon to shore. Herringbone clouds are riven with streaks of mercury.
But my bivvy bag is wet and cold; my unshaven chin prickles like a scouring pad.
Day 4b:
I have the poster boy of the Northumberland coast to myself. Even after seven hundred years, the twin-drum towers of the gatehouse impose on the landscape. Tottering fingers of stone: a posthumous two-fingered salute from Thomas of Lancaster to this cousin, the King?
I have the poster boy of the Northumberland coast to myself. Even after seven hundred years, the twin-drum towers of the gatehouse impose on the landscape. Tottering fingers of stone: a posthumous two-fingered salute from Thomas of Lancaster to this cousin, the King?
Day 4c:
Past the castle, I hear a cacophony of noise. I turn, and my senses are overwhelmed by a frenzy of seabirds launching themselves from the imposing cliff. Auks race up and down the coast forming a cat's cradle of crisscrossing flight paths. The sea fizzes as they dive.
Past the castle, I hear a cacophony of noise. I turn, and my senses are overwhelmed by a frenzy of seabirds launching themselves from the imposing cliff. Auks race up and down the coast forming a cat's cradle of crisscrossing flight paths. The sea fizzes as they dive.
Day 4d:
'Looking back to Dunstanburgh - Turned to salt'.
'Looking back to Dunstanburgh - Turned to salt'.
Day 4e:
Just before Beadnell is a meadow packed with flowers and butterflies: purple clover, yellow buttercups, white frothy cow parsley, yellow rattle, pink orchids, red campion, purple thistles, indigo vetch, and eggs and bacon birds-foot trefoil.
Just before Beadnell is a meadow packed with flowers and butterflies: purple clover, yellow buttercups, white frothy cow parsley, yellow rattle, pink orchids, red campion, purple thistles, indigo vetch, and eggs and bacon birds-foot trefoil.
Day 4f:
And then another wildlife treat. A boardwalk leads up to a weather-beaten shed. A young, engaging ranger points outs out the difference between the species of tern: Arctic, Sandwich, Common, Little...
And then another wildlife treat. A boardwalk leads up to a weather-beaten shed. A young, engaging ranger points outs out the difference between the species of tern: Arctic, Sandwich, Common, Little...
Day 4g:
The weather turns as I reach Seahouses. Camping in the street seems like a bad idea, and 'The Old Ship' beckons me in with its lure of a comfy bed and fresh food. In the small room, I unpack, sort and clean everything in my bag. Precious items that sustained me...
The weather turns as I reach Seahouses. Camping in the street seems like a bad idea, and 'The Old Ship' beckons me in with its lure of a comfy bed and fresh food. In the small room, I unpack, sort and clean everything in my bag. Precious items that sustained me...
Day 5:
My material world has shrunk to what I can carry on my back, but my mental world has been expanded by the wide horizons of the Northumberland coast.
I sleep.
The next morning I pass Bamburgh Castle, before heading inland to Belford and the bus home.
My material world has shrunk to what I can carry on my back, but my mental world has been expanded by the wide horizons of the Northumberland coast.
I sleep.
The next morning I pass Bamburgh Castle, before heading inland to Belford and the bus home.
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