June 10, 2011: Seahouses to Belford
Puffins and other birds share Staple Island
It was amusing to see moms and dads accompanying their kids on the morning school run as Tosh and I got ready for day four of our walk. Some of the scholars had to be dragged down the pavement, others arrived in tears. Our landlady didn’t do packed lunches but she recommended a bakery down Main Street and so, at about 9:00, we left the b&b and headed for the harbor. There was plenty of time before the day’s activities were scheduled to begin so we had our sandwiches made on the spot (I had egg mayonnaise today) and bought some liquid. Tosh then bought her newspaper and we continued forward under sunny skies. We discovered a branch of the Billy Shiel empire and lined up to pay for the tickets that I had reserved online: the day’s activities would begin most unusually for a walking trip – with a cruise to the Farne Islands.
At the harbor Tosh started to go through her newspaper while I joined a very long queue. There were some people who had booked all-day cruises and they left first but we were all aboard our vessel by 10:00. Tosh and I had each taken some motion-sickness tablets at breakfast but today the seas were quite calm and neither of us experienced a moment’s discomfort – unless you count the chill I was feeling in the breezes. I put my rain jacket on at this point; it proved useful against the occasional side splash. Our captain kept up a broadcast monologue, part history, part ornithology, as we neared the first of the islands after ten minutes; we made a stop here so that a television set could be delivered to the lighthouse crew.
Our chief objective was Staple Island, an important sanctuary and breeding ground and we could see the cliffs packed with nesting birds. I had remembered to bring my National Trust card – which means I didn’t have to pay when we landed here for a stay of an hour or so. Our steps to the top of the plateau brought us very close of a number of species: gulls and shags and, most importantly, puffins. Some of the shags had already become parents and their fuzzy fledglings could be seen demanding sustenance. The puffins were often seen with small fishes in their protuberant bills; they were smaller than I had imagined and they seemed to live in burrows dug into the clifftop earth. We wandered around to a number of vantage points and then joined the mob in rejoining our cruise.
The captain chugged around the island and in and out of coves for more cliff-face sightings and we visited a few more islands and saw some gray seals. The cruise had been advertised as taking two and a half hours but it was 1:00 before we had docked and 1:30 (after Tosh had visited a tourist information shop) before we were ready to leave town. I had phoned our next landlady to advise of a late arrival – perhaps as late as 8:00 – but it was still daunting to begin a ten and a half mile day at such at late hour.
Our route began in a parking lot, where we soon located a cycle track heading west. Today’s route was almost entirely an inland progress and on this level surface I was able to stride out purposefully. After a mile or so we turned right on a road, escaping this in North Sunderland to begin a halting progress on field paths in a north-westerly direction. Shoreston Hall was our first goal and we welcomed a number of useful waymark arrows. Red roofs on the nearby buildings were also a useful marker. Unfortunately some of this route was impeded by hat-high oilseed rape. This made Tosh very nervous but I assured her that at least the footway beneath all this foliage was clear.
We followed tracks in the direction of Fowberry farm, with distant views of Bamburgh Castle appearing on the horizon. Tosh wanted to find a spot for lunch that contained this prospect and she succeeded – as we sat down to open our lunch sacks (I was piling up the uneaten food from previous versions of this meal in my pack).
Bamburgh Castle
A few more twists and turns in our farm track brought us to Fowberry and here we encountered a number of walkers (many with walking poles). We followed good waymarking across more fields, passing through the gardens of a house called Red Barns and heading directly toward the castle itself. This historic site seemed in far better repair than its fellows on this coast (you can get married here); there was even glass in some of its windows. We used a path adjacent to the highway to make our way around a corner and into the village of Bamburgh itself.
I would have preferred a pub but Tosh chose the Copper Kettle and we were soon in its garden, where the sound of a ceiling fan drowned out conversation. There were many people with dogs out here but service was slow and Tosh had to go inside to pay for our cappuccinos. It was getting ever later and we hadn’t even reached the four-mile mark – and therefore I had a proposal. I had noticed that by heading west on the B1342 we would need only a little more than half a mile of open road walking to reach a junction with the NCP as it returned from a long circuit above Budle Bay. Some mile and a half’s walking could thus be saved and it would be so much more comfortable to arrive in Belford at 7:00 rather than 8:00 – our landlady having already expressed concern about last orders in the dining room of the Blue Bell Hotel, where we expected to dine.
Tosh doesn’t like road walking but she agreed to this plan and we soon set off. There was pavement for much of the route and then a nice path had been worn in the verge so, after reaching open country and climbing a hill, I could soon see the intersecting Dukesfield road we were aiming for. Here NCP signs resumed and we congratulated ourselves on a job well done.
We had soon left our side road to begin an uphill climb in agricultural surroundings – with a hilltop wood above us and a lovely escarpment on our left. I told Tosh that today’s route resembled the typical countryside we travel through far more than the more unique coastal paths we had been following recently. After some cross-country progress we reached another road and turned left and then right to circumvent a large caravan park. It was unusual to be walking in woodland, though quite pleasant. I was out in front here, beginning a descent to the road at Spindlestone – where I sat down on a log to wait for Tosh.
Converted windmill near Spindlestone
We turned left to approach a working mill of some sort, then began a long stretch of road walking, climbing up to a road junction where an abandoned windmill had been turned into a residence. Still on roads we headed north, encountering a number of walkers again, including one chap with poles who said, “Hasn’t rained yet!” – to which I replied, “Keep your fingers crossed.”
A left turn brought us into agricultural territory again and we headed uphill on a field path – getting as far as a gate. Here we encountered a major obstacle – for the gate was heavily padlocked and there was no other way forward. Barbed wire covered some stretches of the adjacent fences so we had to climb the gate itself – not a bad performance for two old gummers. There were curious cows staring at us now but as we moved forward over the hill it was two large horses who found us fascinating. One followed Tosh closely, foraging in her backpack until she bopped him on the nose. We were glad to find an escape stile.
Still heading west into the sinking sun we crossed several more fields. An abandoned feeder line preceded the real thing, an open crossing of a still active train line – indeed only a few seconds after we had completed our crossing one of these beasts rattled through. Now we had to walk in close proximity to some silos (with warnings about this being an industrial site). A surprisingly easy crossing of the A-1 came next and then we walked along a sluggish stream until he had reached the access road of the golf course in Belford itself. It was just going 7:00 and we had walked nine miles.
For some weeks now Tosh had been plagued by another anxiety. Mickledore had been unable to secure two rooms in our b&b and she had reluctantly agreed to share a twin with me. But seeing other accommodation advertised as we made our way up to the Blue Bell Hotel she decided to see if she could find a bed elsewhere. She has no luck at the hotel itself but at the Black Swan across the street she succeeded in securing a room in a pub that was just in the process of getting its accommodation ready. We then walked behind the town church, turned left, and broke the news to our landlady – who took this desertion in good spirit.
My room at the Vicarage had an adjacent bathroom – with an ancient bathtub and no shower. Tosh took her suitcase and headed for the Swan and I had a bit of a rest before meeting her in the bar of the Blue Bell. I called our next landlady and then ordered a pint of lager. There were no more tables in the dining room but they said we could eat in the bar so I chose a corner table and we studied the menu. Tosh made me share some of her bacon and black pudding salad and then I had the cod and chips. We were, of course, pretty tired by now. We agreed to meet again at the Vicarage at 8:30 the next day, when Tosh would have breakfast and accept her packed lunch. I pulled the curtain to my private area so I could visit the bathroom in a state on undress and went to another early bed.
To continue with the next stage of our walk you need: