Embleton Bay

The dry sand of Embleton Bay had frozen and made difficult walking. I wandered off nearer to the sea where it was flat and firm. As usual, I wasn't sure whether the tide was coming in or out. Sandlings scampered near the water and Oystercatchers wandered looking for easy pickings. Embletonburn runs into the sea halfway down the bay and I diverted inland to cross the stream on a footbridge. The England Coastal Path keeps to the landward side of the dunes at this point. I followed it and found myself in an extensive village of holiday huts. All of them looked shut up for the winter and some of them looked as though they might need a bit of TLC in the spring. I noticed the odd external tap between the huts and so they must be a bit basic inside. I wondered if they had to follow building regulations with their construction. Further along I got to the Newton Pool Nature Reserve and popped into the hide. There wasn't anybody in there and there wasn't much action on the frozen pond in front of the hut. I had a look at the book of sightings and one of the latest entries grabbed my attention:

'We saw a big ferret, (like) the loch ness monster nessie. 2 pigs and a fat man in a sleigh'.

I sniffed, but I couldn't smell any cannabis.

Beadnell Bay

There are some old fisherman cottages at Low Newton By The Sea. A large pipe came out of one of the windows, and blew air near to the footpath. At first I thought the cottage had been flooded and they were drying the insides, but then I saw a man walk out of the front door fully enclosed in a suit like an astranout. Presumably they were removing asbestos which seemed a bit odd given the age of the cottages. Asbestos didn't really start being used until the 1930s onwards and so maybe it was used during renovations after that period.

Pressing on, I came to Newton Links carpark. This was a National Trust carpark and I kicked myself for parking at Craster when I could have parked here for free. That's £7 I'll never get back. I joined Beadnell Bay beach and it was busy people walking their dogs. The sun had disappeared behind a cloud and it was looking a little more gloomy now. The weather forecasters had promised some wintery showers in the afternoon and the gloominess looked like a precursor to bad weather. Another wide stream running into the sea forced me inland again to the facility of a footbridge. I was soon back on the beach again at the other side. Near Beadnell, I heard a man shout behind me. I turned around to see what was going off, and saw a big black dog bounding towards me. On reaching me it immediately put its sandy paws on to my arm and knocked my camera. I got no apologies from the owners, although when I passed them again later on, I noted that they now had it on a lead and it had a muzzle on.

There are some old limekilns on Beadnell harbour. These were built in 1798 and exported lime to other ports in England and Scotland. They are now used to store the fishermen's lobster pots and ropes. I wandered over to the spur beyond the harbour. An information board told me that a medieval chapel once stood on this promontory. I wondered why you would position it on this exposed piece of rock; there are surely more sheltered sites. Looking north, I could see Lindisfarne. Maybe that was the reason. The place is know as Ebb's Nook and is thought to be derived from a 7th century Anglo-Saxon princess, St Ebba. Each year on the nearest Sunday to the 25th of August (St Ebba's Feast Day), the people of Beadnell still worship here. The information board didn't say whether they burnt any wicker men or jumped naked over bonfires.

There was a dusk like darkness gathering forces in the north. Out at sea, I could see what I first thought was mist, but then realised must be snow. Time to get a wiggle on, and I set off back southwards.

Snow Chaser

I didn't hang about as I retraced my steps back around Beadnell Bay. The bruised northern sky had given the day a menacing atmosphere. I kept thinking I could hear thunder, but I soon realised that it was the incoming tide clattering against the shore. After crossing the footbridge over Beadnell Bay's stream, I decided to keep to the landward side of the dunes, rather than walk on the beach. It was a more direct route and I had the pathetic thought that I might actually outrun the imminent storm. There was some mixed marshy farmland on my right and I could hear some Curlews making their mournful call. Just before getting to Newton Links I saw a whole flock of them. There must have been around 30. I've often seen Curlews in smaller numbers in the Peak District, but I'd never seen a group as large as this before.

At Newton Ponds an elderly couple were watching a skein of geese circle over the lake. I would have chatted to them, but I was too busy outrunning the storm.

When I reached the footbridge over Embletonburn the storm caught me up and the world disappeared into whiteness. I put my cameras in my rucksack and donned my anorak. It was coming down hard and settling too. I decided to follow the tops of the dunes back to Dunstanburgh Castle. This turned out to be a bad move, not just because of the ups and downs of the dunes, but due to the wet Marram grass soaking my trousers. By the time I reached the foot of the castle, the worst of the storm had passed, and the snow had turned to sleet. How unwelcoming the area looked now compared to the friendly sunshine of this morning. At least there was no Marram grass on the last stretch to Craster.

Despite the conditions during the last hour or so of the walk, I'd really enjoyed today. This stretch between Craster and Beadnell is a wonderful example of the beauty of the Northumberland coast.