Captain's Log

Harper's Heugh

Harper’s Heugh carpark was my turnaround point on yesterday’s walk (see Making My Way Around Budle Bay) on my England Coast Path North East venture and I was back there today  for my starting point. A camper van was parked in the carpark and so I tried to be quiet whilst kitting up. Today’s walk would be an out-and-back northwards to the causeway leading to Holy Island, or Lindisfarne as it is sometimes called. Looking at the map, there seemed to be quite a bit of road walking and field hopping involved and so I wasn’t quite sure what I’d think of it. It was near to being  a 15 miles round trip although the map showed that it was more or less all flat. 

It had only just turned 07:30 and was still fairly dark as I got underway. The first mile was along a main road. There weren’t that many vehicles using it, but when they did pass me, they did so at great speed. At least I could see the headlights as they approached. For most of the road there was a grassy verge on which I could stand when they rushed by, but there were one or two sections where there was no area of safety at all. If I’d not been doing this venture, I would have avoided this particular road altogether. In fact the official England Coast Path (ECP) route followed a footpath, further inland to the west. I avoided it because it was hard to find a place to park a car on this section and it was difficult to get onto the official route from the Harper’s Heugh carpark. Nearly all of the traffic was either coming to or from the nearby A1. Once I’d passed the turn-off to the A1, then I had the road to myself and the day got much more enjoyable. 

Elwick

It was still quite dark and gloomy though. A Kestrel preceded me down the road. It was hovering looking for some breakfast. It must have been 30 metres up in the air and I was amazed it could actually see anything in the poor light. I’d struggled to lace up my boots back at the carpark. That was because of the dark, rather than some basic skill impairment. The road took me by the occasional residential house or farm house, but to be honest there wasn't a great deal to maintain my interest. The east coast main line followed me northwards and occasionally a string of humanity would slide by at tremendous speed. The official English Coast Path merged back with my route before I reached the village of Elwick. It was less of a village and more of three or four houses next to one huge farm. There was a tall brick chimney protruding from the middle of the farm and it did make me wonder as to its purpose, past or present. The road straightened after the village and I could see two sets of flashing lights along it, far ahead. ‘Aye, aye’ I thought ‘I hope there are no road closures.’ When I got near them I could see that the lights were on tractors. One was cutting the the roadside hedge horizontally and the other trimmed it vertically. I waved to each driver, but got no response. Just after passing them I was at last able to leave tarmac and start some field hopping. Unfortunately, the chain on the hook-latch of the field's gate had been pinned so tight, I was unable to get it open. I’d had the same problem at a field gate on yesterday’s walk and had to resort to climbing over it. The solution was the same today and I climbed over the gate. I thought there was a distinct whiff of GOML territory in this stretch of ECP between Bude Bay and Holy Island, although that may well have been my imagination. At least I could now field hop my way to the coast. 

Holy Island

The reason that the England Coast Path goes inland between Waren Mill and Fenham-le-Moor is that the footpath that runs along the actual coast line is closed to protect the birds that use the mudflats for feeding and breeding. At least, it is closed for most of the year, although it may open in June and July, depending on what the birds are doing at the time. Throughout yesterday’s walk and all of today’s, I’d heard the occasional bang of a bird-scarer that the farmers were using to protect their fields. Presumably, the birds on the mudflats got less spooked than I did when the damn things went off. The field hopping delivered me to the coast where I could see the distinctive hump of Lindisfarne Castle on the horizon. No sooner had I arrived, then the path took me away again, inland. I found another gate that had been tied up with  nylon string. I jumped over it. At least my climbing skills were improving on this walk. I joined some tarmac again at Fenham-le-Moor and this took me back to the coast  where I found a small, double storied bird hide. It was quite cozy in terms of space inside. I opened a hatch and got a view of Lindisfarne Castle in the distance. Not a bad view as bird hides go. The path went along the coastline for a while, before diverting inland again. The definition of coastline is a bit vague in this area. There was a sort of a vertical drop like you might get on a coastline, but then there were mudflats and marsh, with the sea somewhere beyond. All I can say for definite is that the footpath was always across fields and there were definitely no sandy beaches where you could paddle. The track started heading towards the Holy Island causeway. I could see cars driving across and so the tide must have been out. The final stretch was along a parade line of those huge concrete cubes that they use for sea defences. It was only 10:00 when I reached the causeway and my turnaround point for the day. I half considered walking across, but a tides timetable pinned to a post said that it would become impassable at midday. I didn’t fancy getting stranded and so I started making my way back to Harper's Heugh.

Return

If the morning’s outbound journey was a little boring, I have to confess that the return trip felt a bit tedious. I waved to a few trains that scooted by, but their windows were so dark that I don’t know if anybody waved back. A farmer motored across a nearby field on an ATV. His black Spaniel came charging across to me and proceeded to wipe his very muddy paws on my trousers, before dashing back to his owner. I thought I saw a couple of deer run across the marshes, but distance and perspective can be deceived around here and they may well have been large hares. My eyesight's not the best, either. I did see a couple of Roe Deer in a field later on though, so they obviously frequent the area. 20 to 30 swans had taken up residence in one of the fields and were happily munching away at whatever was growing there. They were oblivious to the bird-scarer bangs going off. Good for them. Back at Fenham-le-Moor’s bird hide I read a notice saying that the Tweed Trouser Brigade were allowed to shoot wild fowl in the nearby marshes. ‘They’ve been doing it for centuries’ the notice said, in a clear attempt to justify it. ‘They burnt witches for centuries, but it doesn’t mean we should be doing it now’ I thought. As I walked through the last field and climbed over the gate again to get to tarmac, the rain started. This was the wet rain that soaks you through. The weather forecasters said it would be grey, but dry today. Liars! It felt a long way back along the roads to the carpark. The last stretch to the Harper’s Heugh carpark was busier than this morning and I had to retreat to the grass verge quite a few times. Most of the drivers gave me a wide berth, but one or two were clueless and drove as if I wasn’t there. The camper van was gone when I got back to the carpark. I was the only one there. 

What can I say about today’s walk? Well, if you like road walking and field hopping then this is a walk for you. It was also flatter than a Johnny Cash ballad. There wasn’t an awful lot to grab your interest though. It was a decent view across the bay to Holy Island, but much of the route drifted away from the coastline, however you may actually define the coastline in this area. Anyway, over the last two days I’d plugged the gap between Bamburgh and Holy Island which was the important thing. Job done.