Day 101 – Blyth to South Shields

The Commissioners is a modern hotel with nearly 50 rooms on 3 floors, so it’s perhaps not a surprise that we get a help yourself buffet breakfast. It’s hard to think when this might last have happened. Possibly as long ago as at the Best Western Hotel in Clevedon? In any event, it’s not a bad spread and we’re on our way by 8:30. As happened yesterday, we’re soon on the beach, although today the firm sand is very close to the water so we’re frequently moving away from incoming ripples. It’s a hard life, but at least it’s comforting to hear after the first hour that the notebook is still with us. However, Ben announces that on this occasion he has lost his (or, more accurately, his youngest son’s) water bottle. Anyway, again as with the early stages of yesterday’s walk, we’re able to stay on the beach for almost 3 miles, until we reach Seaton Sluice, a place name which seems ideally suited to a Geordie voice – or it is if Gary’s (and, to a lesser extent, Ben’s) attempts at the accent are anything to go by. As we walk round the sluice we realise that we could have taken a route closer to the sea, but the impurity is minimal and it isn’t too long before we’re back on the cliffs which take us above Hartley Bay and on towards St Mary’s Lighthouse. From there, we enjoy almost another hour of beach action at Whitley Sands, where Gary hears some genuine local voices discussing Seaton Sluice and also bumps into a Fulham shirt wearing holidaymaker. There’s then only a short detour from the shoreline, to walk past the white-domed Spanish City and through Whitley Bay itself, before we can get back to the beach at Cullercoats, a small and attractive resort which is famous for its artist colony in the 19^th century. And by the time we have to leave the sand for the final time on this part of the walk, we’re almost at Tynemouth with its mediaeval castle and priory – a photo requirement for John, and a noteworthy moment for all of us. Strictly speaking, we’ve spent the last few miles in the Metropolitan Borough of North Tyneside, but in proper county boundary terms, we’ve now reached the southern end of the Northumberland coast and are looking over the Tyne towards County Durham (or South Tyneside I suppose). We turn inland, walk along the north bank of the river, and reach North Shields shortly after noon. There are several very tempting places of refreshment along a street of converted quayside buildings, but it’s a bit early for lunch and we’re not too far from the Shields ferry, and one of the half hourly services from the North Shields Pier is due to leave at 12:30. We therefore press on, duly catch the 12:30 ferry and get to South Shields 10 minutes later. By now, John and Gary are both rather footsore (conversely Ben is almost in spring chicken mode, despite one of his boots falling apart and being held together with a spare lace), but we decide to continue for another 30 minutes so as to tick off the south bank of the Tyne and get round to the South Shields sea front. From there, we walk (or, so far as two of us are concerned, hobble) into the centre of the town and, having ignored at least two pubs, finally fall into one which is quite close to the Metro station (possibly the Ship & Royal). After a pint of cider each – and an extra half for Ben and Gary – we get to the Metro just before a train to Newcastle Central is due to leave. We reckon that, amazingly, the last time all three of us used public transport whilst on the walk was between Fleetwood and Lancaster when we took a bus to get to and from our overnight stop, the wonderful Stork Inn at Conder Green (although Ben and John took the train to get to the Ratty Arms at Ravenglass on one of the later sections which Gary has yet to complete). We arrive at Central station around 3pm and, in what is certainly a travel “first” for us, we catch three different trains. Gary leaves almost immediately back north to Alnmouth for a short family break and, following a much shorter break in the station’s Centurion Bar, John and Ben leave for Cheltenham and London respectively.  

Day 100 – Druridge Bay to Blyth

Rendezvous at Newcastle station is slightly delayed by the Good Samaritan (aka John) assisting an elderly woman to a connecting train before joining Ben and Gary – and the retrieved notebook (whoopee!) – for our century of days and the journey with Colin back to the country park at Druridge Bay. The route in the midday sunshine takes us past such iconic local sites as St James’ Park, the HQ of Greggs and a number of non-functioning wind turbines. We’re hoping to walk all the way to our overnight stop in Blyth which is a distance of around 19 miles. On a warm day and setting out just before 12:30, this could represent a bit of a challenge, but with sun cream applied and hats (or in Ben’s case a wet neckerchief) donned, we leave the park and are soon on the beach continuing our journey south. And excellent beach action it proves to be, with firm sand so we can maintain a good pace for almost 3 miles to Cresswell. We then need to head inland to get around/through the old power station and aluminium works at Lynemouth, but we’re soon heading back towards the sea around Newbiggin Golf Course. By the time we reach Newbiggin itself, it’s mid-afternoon, but we’ve already made heavy inroads into our water supplies so a stop is made at the Co-op to replenish them and also to buy ice creams (a very rare event) for John and Gary. On getting to the promenade on the south side of the town, we see a couple looking out to sea from some kind of construction in Newbiggin Bay. It’s difficult to work out how they got there, until we realise that the whole thing is a construction – it’s a sculpture of a couple known locally, it transpires, as Eb and Flo (ho ho). Anyway, we soon get back to the beach, and another stretch of beautiful sand, albeit initially with several traces of black dust from a coal seam which apparently emerges right by Newbiggin. Thoughts now turn to whether we are likely to reach the Commissioners Quay Inn at Blyth by early evening – in other words, when are we likely to have our first cider. This will depend on how and where we manage to cross two river mouths, those of the Wansbeck and the Blyth. Both are almost certain to involve diversions to inland bridges but, as we approach the Wansbeck, we can’t see many people who seem to have to leave the beach and, when we reach the river mouth, the tide is sufficiently far out for us to paddle across. Clearly, this involves several minutes being spent de-shodding, and then foot drying and re-shodding, but we still reckon that not having to go inland has saved us 20 or 30 minutes. Something which approaches confidence accordingly develops as we continue along the sands past Cambois (pronounced ‘Kemiss’ according to the Coast Path Book) that, even with a major diversion to cross the Blyth, we should reach the Commissioners within another couple of hours or so – i.e. by 7:15. And a diversion is indeed needed, and it is quite a major one of around a mile and a half inland and, having crossed the river, a similar distance back to the coast. A couple of possible short cuts are identified on John’s GPS and Ben’s OS map, but they’re not 100% clear and the potential reward is not sufficiently great as to make the risk worthwhile. We therefore follow the route in the Coast Path Book which takes us west, over a couple of main roads to Bedlington Station, south alongside the railway line, across the river at the Furnace Bridge, into Bedlington Country Park, and back east again along the south bank of the river. The approaches to and streets through Blyth are not too inspiring, but the relief we feel when getting to the quayside shortly after 7 o’clock and seeing the Commissioners in front of us is more the result of having walked a very sunny 19 miles in just over six and a half hours. In fact, according to John’s logger, the time spent walking is around 6 hours. After the long anticipated cider, check-in and showers/baths, supper is accompanied by one more cider, just one bottle of Shiraz, and no stickies. We must be tired.

Day 99 – Alnmouth to Druridge Bay

A good sleep and a full breakfast mean that we’re feeling a lot more positive about the next few hours, although when we emerge from the Sun the expected rain is falling – albeit not as heavily as predicted. Indeed, by the time we’ve crossed the bridge over the Aln and are walking back towards the sea, it’s no more than a light drizzle, and even that has disappeared as we get to the coast and turn south along a path through the dunes. We keep scanning the sky expecting to see dark clouds rolling towards us but, if anything, it’s getting brighter which means a very pleasant walk along the beach towards Warkworth Golf Course where we have to divert inland to walk by a couple of fairways before reaching a path which takes us under a bridge used by the golfers and back to the shoreline. Soon we need to come inland again to go through Warkworth itself, where a couple of short diversions are required when it becomes apparent that a riverside path which is shown on John’s map as running through the town alongside the Coquet doesn’t exist, and we need to go along some side streets before getting back to the river on a road which leads to the marina on the northern outskirts of Amble. We’ve been walking for about a couple of hours, and we’re only 3 miles away from the Old Storehouse, a pub/restaurant to the south of Amble which was one of our potential finishing points discussed yesterday evening. We really should be aiming for somewhere further on – possibly a country park at Druridge Bay. For the moment, however, a far more serious issue has arisen regarding the black book in which Ben has been noting all the hourly time, mileage and height data recorded on John’s logger since we set off on the South West Coast Path in 2011 – as well as from our Thames Path walk in 2010. Throughout this time, Ben has carried the book in one of the outside pockets of his rucksack, and it was duly available to perform its function at the end of our first hour today. However, when we stop by the Coquet to record the second hour…..there’s no sign of the book. It must have been dropped when we set off from our first hour stop, or fallen out at some point after that. In any event, we no longer have it. We consider ways in which we might try and retrieve it (e.g. retracing our steps or even offering a reward for finding it) but they are all extremely speculative and the prospects of success are assessed as low to non-existent. The second hour time, mileage and height are accordingly recorded on the inside of a box which had contained some nuts and raisins bars, and we continue on towards the marina in a slightly more subdued atmosphere than usual. We were saying last night that the book was looking so battered and tattered that it was unlikely to survive what are currently estimated to be the remaining 6 years of the walk. It now seems that it won’t even be with us to celebrate day 100 on the next trip. We walk through the marina and along a few lanes in Amble and, having got through the town, emerge in some parkland stretching down from the coastline. And it then isn’t too long before we see the Old Storehouse on the other side of the coast road. We reckon that we’re no more than an hour away from the country park, so there’s time to stop for a reflective cider. According to its website, the country park’s cafe is closed today, but at the very least it’s an easily identifiable place for Colin to get to, and John manages to make the necessary changes to the previous Cresswell pick up arrangements by phone. Ben’s suggestion that we stay at the Old Storehouse for a second cider is rejected, and we cross back over the road and into Amble dunes. After passing Hauxley, we reach a wide tarmac path which, from our maps, would appear to lead to/past several nature parks/reserves. The first of these is Hauxley Nature Reserve and a mile or so later, shortly after 1:30, we reach the Druridge Bay Country Park. Despite the rain having amazingly held off since mid-morning, we take the opportunity to effect a swift change of footwear/clothes and also to grab a cup of tea at the cafe which, it transpires, is open. From what we’re told by some other people sitting outside the cafe, the dry weather seems to have been restricted to a narrow stretch of land along the coast and there’s been very heavy rain in, for example, Morpeth a mere 10 miles away. We see this for ourselves after we’re collected by Colin. Almost as soon as we’ve left the park and started to travel inland, the rain is falling and is continuing to fall when we arrive at a very wet Morpeth. It’s about 45 minutes before our train is due to leave, so Colin drops us at the Sun Inn – just up the hill from the station – where we have the second drink which was forsaken at the Old Storehouse. We still get to the station in good time and catch the same East Coast service as far as York where John changes onto a Cross Country train to Cheltenham. But there’s one more development as Ben and Gary continue on towards London. We get a message from Ben’s wife, Cath, that she’s received an email from someone who has found a black notebook by a beach north of Amble, and wonders if this is the right contact address (contained in a hard copy email which was apparently tucked inside the book) to find a home for it! Quite extraordinary, and incredibly kind of the person concerned. It sounds as though we’ll be reunited with the book in time for day 100!