A promising
start to our 2017 walks. Storms Doris and Ewan have passed through, and things
look set fair for the next couple of days. A potential hitch arises when Ben
and Gary’s train to Berwick terminates at Newcastle because the line north has
been closed due to somebody having been hit by a train near Alnmouth. However,
the line has re-opened by the time John’s train arrives 40 minutes later,
enabling Ben and Gary to join that train and the three of us to arrive in
Berwick together and meet up with our pre-ordered Colin. It transpires that our
accommodation this evening, The Castle, is immediately outside the station, so
we make a minor diversion to leave most of our kit there before being driven to
Coldstream. We’re dropped off outside the Collingwood Arms by a junction which
John reckons will mark the finishing point of the missing section from Windy
Gyle and Kirk Yetholm which we’re aiming to tick off in May. If it does, the
Collingwood looks as though it will be a more than acceptable place to nestle
whilst awaiting transportation. For now, we set off just before 1 o’clock and
find our way down to the Tweed which we’re hoping to follow today as far as
Paxton. All goes smoothly for the first 90 minutes or so. We then cross a
viaduct over the River Till, a tributary of the Tweed, in order to rejoin the
Tweed itself. At the top of a track which leads back to the river, we meet a
couple of workmen who warn us that the bank path which slopes towards the river
is extremely slippy and “quite treacherous” and that they have had to negotiate
parts of it by edging along on hands and knees. Their description of the path
proves to be accurate and, in the initial stages, Gary adopts the hands and
knees technique (not without a degree of concern, nay panic, that he might
slide into the water), Ben tries the slide along on the bum strategy, and John somehow
manages to stay on his feet. This performance lasts a good 30 minutes after
which the path, whilst still slippy, becomes less steeply sloped towards the
river, and stability is increased by a couple of rudimentary walking poles
fashioned by John from tree branches. Something which doesn’t markedly
increase, however, is our pace which had dropped to a crawl and still doesn’t
rise above a couple of miles an hour, but we are at least able to pay a bit
more attention to the wonderful scenery of the Tweed and its fauna, to include
a seal, a couple of deer and a flock of geese – or a skein when several of them
fly in front of us. Our reduced pace makes it questionable whether we’ll now get
to Paxton by sunset, and the prospect of trying to do so on a muddy path as
darkness is falling makes us choose the more prudent option of finishing a
couple of miles short of Paxton at Horncliffe, which has the added attraction
of the Fishers Arms. We arrive there just after 5:45 to find that it doesn’t
open until 6 but, almost immediately after we sit down to wait outside, the
landlord opens the door and announces that he’d be happy for us to come in and
to let us have a drink whilst he’s taking his pre-opening time shower. It would
be churlish to refuse such hospitality….so we don’t. A Colin is summoned, picks
us up at 6:15, and we’re at The Castle in Berwick by 6:30. And a very welcoming
place it proves to be. The rooms are comfortable, the water is hot, and the
food is not only substantial but also, along with the bottles of wine, very
reasonably priced. After supper, it’s difficult to resist the attractions of
the hotel bar to which we retire for just the one sticky and a cursory glance
at the TV to see how the West Ham v Chelsea game is going. Predictably as it turns
out; Chelsea win 2-1.
Day 91 - Byrness to Barrowburn
To maintain
the mood of last night, John has been reading a blog written by someone who,
when walking the section that we’ll be on today, managed to fall into a marsh!
Colin provides a good breakfast, and also some supplies for our journey, and
sees us on our way. Strange to think that this was one of our first encounters
on the whole walk – if not the first – with someone called Colin and he wasn’t
a cab driver. Today starts with a climb to 1300 feet within the first hour, so
the clothing strategy is not to wrap up too heavily in the light of the
immediate exertions, but to have layers readily available to don as soon as we
reach the ridge before the cold starts to bite. And it proves to be a sensible
strategy, because the temperature at the top is several degrees lower than it
was in Byrness and there’s a bit of a breeze, with occasional light rain,
coming from the east. Bracing at best. It’s an extraordinary landscape. Spectacular
for the short periods when the sky is clear; somewhat forbidding when the
clouds roll in. And always the sense that you’re many miles away from anywhere
and anyone. The route itself is reasonably clear, but it’s quite hard going,
involving frequent rises and falls (albeit not steep), and having to find our
way around some boggy areas or crossing marshes on duckboard which, on most
occasions, proves to be somewhat slippy. Our aim is to walk to Windy Gyle and
then down from the ridge to a car park where we’ve arranged to be picked up.
However, there are a couple of earlier routes down which would involve a longer
(but more predictable) walk along a road to reach the car park. By the time we
reach one of these bale outs – which starts from a mountain refuge shelter near
Lamb Hill – there are varying degrees of tiredness within the party and, having
munched our way through Colin’s provisions in the refuge hut, we decide that
the predictability and higher temperature of the road route is the sensible
option. Having worked our way down to the road, it’s then 3 miles or so to the
car park, skirting the edge of Otterburn Military Camp and passing some soldiers
having what would appear to be a mid-exercise breather. Our taxi is waiting at
the car park and gets us to Newcastle station in time for us to sample the
delights of the Centurion, a former first class passenger lounge which has been
converted into a rather splendid and spacious station bar. Just the one
leisurely and very welcome drink before catching trains home.
Postscript: During the immediately following days, we
decide to follow Colin’s advice and cancel our November trip. Subsequently,
having regard to the distinct possibility of unpredictable weather lasting
until March/April, it is also decided to start our 2017 walks in Coldstream and
to postpone the Windy Gyle/Kirk Yetholm/Coldstream section until late
spring/early summer.
Day 90 - Kielder to Byrness
And, indeed,
it is farewell to the west coast mainline. Fortunately for Ben and Gary, this means
getting a train over an hour later than the 06:43 from Euston which they’ve so
far caught for all of this year’s walks. Today it’s the 08:00 from King’s Cross
which arrives at Newcastle just before 11:00. Unfortunately for John, he still
needs to leave Cheltenham on the 07:10 and doesn’t get to Newcastle until
11:30, but at least no change of trains at Birmingham is involved. Ben and Gary
while away their 40 minute wait at Newcastle by having a late breakfast at a
platform Costa outlet, and early lunchtime sandwiches are then purchased on John’s
arrival. Our Geordie Colin (Ronnie) is in the station entrance hall to greet us
and drive us the hour or so back to Kielder. The Anglers Arms is open, but it
isn’t difficult to resist its attractions and set off through the Kielder Forest
Drive. As its name implies this is, for the most part, a narrow road through
the forest, so it’s a gentle and straightforward walk which rises gradually, and
eventually emerges from the trees reaching a height of 1500 feet at Blakehope
Nick. The weather’s fine, but a bit dull and therefore, although the views from
the top are pretty good, they’re not extensive. As we start the descent, the
road becomes narrower and, having become accustomed to a seemingly
non-problematic route, we miss a track off to the left which leads to Byrness.
The resulting diversion adds a mile or so (and a couple of very damp fields) to
our walk and we arrive in Byrness as darkness falls. A circuitous route around
the village brings us to the Green and our overnight accommodation, the Forest
View, which is essentially a hostel with food and a small bar, catering
principally for walkers. Our host, Colin, immediately takes our boots and other
damp clothing to his drying room, and we accept his offer of a cup of tea, and
still have time for showers, before the bar opens at 6. We’re the only people
staying tonight, and Colin is the only person “front of house” (his wife,
Joyce, having to deal with a family bereavement). It transpires that he’s more
than a little accustomed to hosting people who walk the Pennine Way, a
relatively short section of which we will be experiencing tomorrow and on our
planned final trip of the year in a few weeks time (November). And not only
hosting them, but also arranging for them to be collected from the ridge of the
Pennine Way, occasionally in a none too healthy condition. Colin’s very firm
advice is that we should reconsider our plans for November because, by that
time, the weather will be so unpredictable as to be dangerous, with conditions
in Byrness (or places at a similar level) being no indication of what might lie
in wait on the ridge itself. It’s because of this that he doesn’t take guests
from November to March. Anyway, despite stories of white outs, hypothermia and
accidents (at least one involving a body bag), we have a relatively enjoyable
evening meal – and a calming sticky to follow the wine.
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