Day 97 – Kirk Yetholm to Coldstream/Cornhill-on-Tweed

A very comfortable night followed by a full Scottish breakfast which has two advantages over its English counterpart, namely that baked beans are not an option, but haggis is. Today’s walk should be somewhat easier than yesterday’s. Certainly shorter at around 10 miles and over more forgiving terrain, and the only fly in the meteorological ointment is the possibility of light showers. Our destination is the Collingwood Arms – our departure point on day 92 – which we should reach well before Colin who has been booked to pick us up at 2:10. The only benefit of Gary’s walking pole which was noticeable yesterday was the stability which it afforded on one short descent over some shale on the ridge. However, an unexpected benefit soon emerges today. We’ve decided to take a route which loses a bit of border purity in the interests of avoiding some relatively major roads and, as we leave Kirk Yetholm, we enter a field in which there’s around a dozen head of black cattle – identified by our rural affairs correspondent as “ball-less bulls”. They seem reasonably docile and amble out of our way as we approach each small group of them. However, once we’ve passed the final couple, we realise that they’ve all gradually been regrouping and are now following very closely behind us. This doesn’t become too uncomfortable, but it’s slightly unnerving when we still have a couple of hundred yards to go to reach the far end of the field where we will need to exit through a gate without being followed by our bovine companions. The walking pole provides the solution. When we reach the gate, John turns and brandishes (or, more accurately, points) it at the bulls who back away sufficiently for us to leave the field on our own and shut the gate behind us. A short walk along a narrow road is a prelude to a few miles over rising and falling fields during which we experience a light shower and then warmer temperatures which eventually lead to the layer count being reduced to two. After emerging onto a country lane, we renew acquaintance with the border near Mindrum, cross a B road, and are back into England. The lanes which we follow take us north east (cutting a corner of the border) and we then join a railway embankment starting at a disused station at Sunilaws. From the logger and Ben’s OS map it looks as though, after a couple of miles, there will be few places where we can leave the embankment and get to the Collingwood. However, the first two of these prove to be bridges quite a long way above roads below, with no obvious paths downwards. We decide not to essay steep scramblage and, thankfully, the third option proves less problematic – a short incline and a three barred fence to reach a road bridge over the embankment. After another 5 minutes, we leave the road to join a narrow track through some woodland where a further use for the walking pole emerges – i.e. as a somewhat thin spade to unearth a plant so as to confirm (or otherwise) suspicions that it is wild garlic. Unfortunately, thin also means inefficient and slow which leads to John finally trying to pull out the plant by its stalks, and leaving the roots (and any probative garlic) under the soil. The woodland walk is only a quarter of a mile long, and soon brings us to a bridge and a road along which we can see, at a junction, the Collingwood Arms. The satisfaction of arriving exactly where we started on day 92 almost rivals that of seeing the rain start to fall as we go inside around 12:30. It’s a good 90 minutes until Colin arrives, so plenty of time for a couple of ciders and, so far as John and Gary are concerned, a bite to eat. Colin arrives slightly early, and we get to Berwick 20 and 40 minutes before the trains to Cheltenham and London respectively. The recently repaired station roof looks in good order but, according to Colin, there are still some problems, including some sections having been missed. Sounds as though the Castle will be getting some more custom from the roofing contractors in the near future. In the meantime, John allows himself 10 minutes to hobble over the bridge to the platform for his train, and Ben has a late lunchtime sandwich pending the arrival of the London train. Back to Beadnell next time.

Day 96 – Below Windy Gyle (Barrow Burn) to Kirk Yetholm

A slightly longer entry than usual because, in order to maximise the time available to complete this potentially tricky stretch of the walk (postponed over the winter months) the team assembles the day before at the Sun Inn, Alnmouth. John arrives at lunchtime from Edinburgh, having witnessed Gloucester coming second to Stade Français in the European Challenge Cup. Ben and Gary arrive late in the afternoon from London, Gary having witnessed the first leg of Fulham’s Championship play off semi-final which leads, following the second leg a few days later, to them coming second to Reading. When Ben and Gary arrive, they find John in the bar of the Sun (not a surprise) having a pot of tea (more of a surprise) and decide that a cider and beer respectively will be more welcoming. A stroll around Alnmouth, including discussion of John’s views on wading across the River Aln on our next trip, precedes supper and a relaxed night back at the Sun to prepare for day 96 when we’re picked up by Carol at 9:30. The weather forecast is far from promising – rain, wind and, according to John, wind chill temperatures on the Pennine Way of zero. Four or five layers, to include waterproofs, would seem to be prudent and, based on conditions witnessed on the one hour drive to Barrow Burn, are going to be required. When Carol drops us off shortly after 10:30, the rain has relented slightly, and the wind is brisk at best. Thankfully, it’s blowing from the south east, so it doesn’t unduly inhibit the first 90 minutes or so of the walk which is a long steady climb of nearly 4 miles up to Border Ridge at almost 1,800 feet, where we turn to walk alongside the border fence. The rain, whilst steady, still isn’t too heavy and the wind is now from our right, but the combination of the two, and the consequent low temperature, is clearly going to prove very tiring. Indeed, when we stop for just a few minutes for our first loggage on the ridge, we all notice a distinct drop in body temperature. Fortunately, the ground conditions are better than those which we experienced up here last October in that there are more extensive sections of paving slabs which have been laid, and the other sections are at least reasonably firm under foot. However, after rounding the Cheviot turn to continue north along the border, we soon feel the need to take advantage of the Auchope refuge hut where John supplies energy boost gels (accepted by Gary but rejected by Ben) before we tackle the next climb of nearly 600 feet over the Schil. When we leave the hut after 10 minutes, a new member of the group – a walking pole which Gary has brought with him – is left behind, but this is quickly noticed and John yomps back to retrieve it, with the extra yardage thereby logged causing subsequent data adjustment issues. Ben and Gary proceed at a more sedate pace and John rejoins them before the approach to the Schil. The initial climb is relatively gentle but, as it becomes steeper, our pace slows, markedly in Gary’s case, so John carries his rucksack for the final 100 yards which proves to be a very effective handicapping system. The resultant increase in Gary’s speed and decrease in John’s means that they reach the summit together, a couple of minutes after Ben. Who needs energy gels? By now, the rain has stopped, the wind has weakened, and we are able to enjoy some great views over the hills and down into the valleys. Soon after leaving the Schil, and following a walk of around 7 miles on the ridge, we turn left to follow the border on the Scottish side and start the 4 miles descent to the end (or beginning) of the Pennine Way at Kirk Yetholm. It’s been a hard day. Just over 15 miles have taken some six and a half hours but, given the dreadful forecast, we’ve emerged relatively unscathed. Shortly after 5:15, we get to the Border Inn where somebody who has just completed the Pennine Way doesn’t seem too interested in conversation with John who also finds that a bowl of soup which he’s been hoping to have on arrival by way of warmage won’t be available until 6 o’clock. We content ourselves with a reviving cider (for Ben) and beer and crisps (for John and Gary) before adjourning to check in and freshen up at our B&B for the night, the Farmhouse, about 5 minutes away. We then return to the Border where we’ve booked a table for supper, but John is slightly delayed by having to dry wet clothing in his rucksack. Although the rucksack has a waterproof cover, the clothing wasn’t in separate bags inside. Rookie mistake. He does however secure at the Border, somewhat belatedly, his much anticipated soup (Cullen skink – pronounced as being excellent) before we all tuck into haddock and chips. A post-supper sticky at the bar is taken in the company of the landlord, who regales us with further stories about the New Year Spine Race along the Pennine Way, and also procures the first available log book of recorded Pennine Way walk finishers. This is marked “Book 2” and starts in mid-August 1971, which is slightly frustrating for John who completed the walk whilst at school in early August 1971. He may well have appeared in Book 1 but this was apparently destroyed in a fire! With a degree of disappointment, we leave the Border and get back to the Farmhouse at 9 o’clock.

Day 95 – Belford to Beadnell

On opening bedroom curtains, bright skies indicate that we may once more have cheated the weather forecast. But by the time we leave at 8:30, conditions have changed and it’s snowing. Our destination today is the Craster Arms at Beadnell (about 13 miles away) where we’re due to be picked up at 2:15 so as to get to Alnmouth for a train at 3 o’clock. The terrain shouldn’t be particularly challenging and so, despite the weather, we should get to Beadnell with enough time to spare for a drop of lunch. It’s a different, more southerly, route back to the coast, but again it involves a stretch of road (albeit shorter than yesterday evening), a field to the A1 (this time crossed without any horn blastage), and a woodland trail to the east coast main line. Here, there is no bridge across the railway, but instead there’s a telephone which provides a connection to a line controller who, having ascertained the number in our group and our estimated time to walk over the track, instructs us to cross as soon as we’ve replaced the receiver. Instructions are duly followed without incident, and the only other issue which arises before we reach the coast is whether to get to Warren House on the edge of Budle Bay via a couple of right angled roads, or along the hypotenuse of a field in which, according to a sign by the gate, there is a bull. It’s not a huge surprise when two of us opt for the road route and one chooses the hypotenuse. It’s even less of a surprise who arrives first outside Warren House – and announces that there was no evidence of a bull in the field. By now, about 90 minutes after leaving the Blue Bell, the snow has just about relented, but the wind is strong and in our faces as we turn north east and get down to the beach to walk to the headland at Budle Point. Thankfully, it isn’t too long before we’ve rounded the headland and are back in a more southerly facing direction towards Bamburgh. We need to go back to the cliff top at Bamburgh Castle Golf Course where the wind makes us realise that the beach was relatively sheltered and where, as a result, there are more people in and around the club house than on the course itself. But within 20 minutes we’re able to get back down to the beach and to the beautiful stretch of sand which takes us beneath Bamburgh Castle and alongside the dunes all the way to Seahouses. Wonderful. Gary’s suggestion of a coffee and post card stop is scuppered by our route taking us away from the centre of Seahouses and around the very quiet and rather bleak harbour (no boats going over to the Farne Islands today). The relatively easy underfoot conditions – and also the following wind – have meant that we’re going to reach Beadnell soon after 12:30 and, although this is an earlier finish than we would like, the next potential stop along the coast at Newton is likely to prove a step too far, even if we’re able to divert our booked Colin to a different pick up location. So after leaving the harbour, we’re able to take our time walking over Seahouses Golf Course and can pause to watch a threeball teeing off on a hole which crosses in front of us. The two who get their shots airborne allow for the cross wind by aiming at us, and manage to find the fairway. Alongside the next hole, a path leads down to the shore, so we get another 30 minutes of beach action before reaching Beadnell and going up to the coast road. Our “official” walk ends here outside a house (no. 20) because it transpires that we’ve slightly overshot the street leading to the Craster Arms and need to walk back along the coast road to reach it. As anticipated, we arrive at the pub around 12:30 and have no difficulty whiling away the next hour and a half with a couple of pints and a crab sandwich – the crustacean in question having apparently been caught earlier today by a man sitting at the bar. Colin (or Carol) arrives just after 2 o’clock so we arrive in very good time at Alnmouth station which, disappointingly, has no refreshment facilities – in fact no facilities at all apart from a ticket office. However, we’re all catching the same train as far as York and so, for the first time in quite a while, we’re able to share on board glasses of wine before John disembarks to connect with a train to Cheltenham.