Trains
arrive at Berwick on schedule, and Colin is waiting at 12:20 to drive us to the
coast road at Beadnell. According to the Met Office, we should expect rain of
varying intensity this afternoon and heavy rain throughout tomorrow. The drive
to Beadnell does nothing to change the immediate expectation. The rain is
steady at best outside, and is continuing to fall, with the wind in our faces,
when we arrive at the sea front and set off from outside number 20 shortly
after 1 o’clock. It’s not exactly monsoon conditions, and we get an early bit
of beach action around part of Beadnell Bay. However, the prospect of a wet and
cold 15 miles ahead of us does make the first hour just a tad miserable. But
remarkably, around High and Low Newton, the wind drops slightly, the rain
disappears, and a little while later something appears in the sky which could
be mistaken for the sun. And so, as we approach Dunstanburgh Castle Golf
Course, we’re beginning to dry out and feel a lot more cheerful. Despite the
earlier conditions, we’ve already seen quite a few people out and about, and
the numbers increase markedly as we walk below the walls of the castle and
descend the hill into Craster. We reckon that we’ll have seen more people
walking today than on any stage since the day we arrived in Blackpool. Indeed,
it might even be more than the number we’ve seen on all the stages after
Blackpool put together! Anyway, for the moment, the weather apps on John’s and
Gary’s phones indicate that more rain is on the way so we need to maximise our
time in the favourable conditions which means, among other things, resisting
the temptations of the Jolly Fisherman’s Inn at Craster. It also results in us
maintaining a pretty good pace along the cliffs around Cullernose Point, past
Howick and on towards Boulmer. In fact, we eventually get a total of about 3
hours in the dry before the rain returns when we’re just over 3 miles short of
our destination. So our final hour of the day is pretty similar to our first,
to include more beach action practically the whole way from Boulmer to
Alnmouth. We check in back at the Sun feeling a bit cold, more than a little
damp, and more than a little tired having covered just over 15 miles in 5 hours.
The customary refresher in the bar has a marginally reviving effect but, with
the weather forecast unchanged for tomorrow, we’re already questioning the
wisdom and practicality of our plan to get as far as Cresswell. This would
involve setting off soon after 7 o’clock and missing a full breakfast (which
isn’t served at the Sun until 8:30), paddling over the Aln at low tide to avoid
the two miles to, over and back from the bridge crossing the river, stopping
off somewhere in Amble for a mid-morning breakfast, and reaching Cresswell in
time to be picked up at 2:15 for the drive to Morpeth station. A hungry early
morning start followed by a presumably cold paddle and walk of nearly 7 hours
in what could be continuous rain is not an enticing prospect and, when we
reconvene for supper, the decision is quickly reached to have breakfast at the
Sun, set off some time after 9, and see where we’re likely to get to by 2
o’clock, so long as it can be accessed by the Colin currently booked to meet us
at Cresswell. The decision makes for a far more relaxed supper – with further
“relaxation” being afforded by post-meal stickies.
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.
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