Captain's Log

Bamburgh To Holy Island Conundrum

‘Come here, boy. Come here. Sorry about that. He normally doesn’t go up to strangers.’

As I was struggling to put on my overtrousers, some sort of wolfhound had bounded out of the darkness and was snuffling against my legs. He looked up and scrunched his unkempt eyebrows as if to say, ‘Kidnap me! Please! And take me somewhere warm.’ I could see his point. Driving rain, a bitterly cold wind scouring the land, and a Mordor early morning gloom about the place. Why would anybody want to be out on a day like this? It wasn't fit to turn a dog out. His owners called him again and he reluctantly headed towards them, head hunkered down into the wind.

I was back on the England Coast Path North East venture today with an out-and-back from Bamburgh to Budle Bay, or just beyond. Budle Bay had turned out to be a bit of a headache in terms of planning for the venture. The section of the path  from Waren Mill to Fenham-le-Moor, via Ross Back Sands can only be walked in June and July every year. This is to protect the feeding and breeding birds that use the mud flats. An all-year-round, alternative footpath is available, but this does go quite far inland. It would have been an ultra-mega walk to do an out-and-back between Bamburgh and Holy Island and so I split the route in two, making use of a carpark a little east of Waren Mill at Harper's Heugh. I strayed from the official route a tad, but it was the best that could be done under the circumstances. I’d do an out-and-back between Bamburgh and Harper's Heugh today and then another out-and-back from Harper's Heugh to Holy Island tomorrow. 

Bamburgh

I made my way down through the dunes to the beach. Four horses and their riders paddled their way southwards. The couple and their wolfhound were following them along that fantastic beach. The castle loomed magically out of the dunes. Only the electric lights around the structure gave away the fact that I’d not been transported back to the medieval period. I headed northwards and climbed on to the rocks. Not surprisingly, the large stone cube sea defences were still there since the last time I was here. Each one is painted either as a dice, children’s building block or a Rubik’s Cube. I was careful not to slip as I made my way  to the white deer that had been painted on the rocks. The lighthouse just above me switched on and off emitting a green and red light. I climbed up towards it and onto a single track road. The road terminated at a Club Swinging facility. I was surprised to see the groundsman pottering about between the holes. What could be so essential to be done before 08:00 in the morning, in this weather? I left him to it and followed the guide posts across the course. At least there weren’t any club swingers about and so my tin hat remained in my rucksack. 

Budle Bay

The coastline and my path turned westwards revealing the huge expanse of Budle Bay. From my lofty elevation I could see the blip on the horizon which was the castle on Holy Island. Most of the land in between seemed to be sand, but I knew there was no direct route across. Well, none if you aren’t prepared to swim, which is not recommended. It was a maze of pools and meandering waterways. I could already see birds feeding on the mudflats. They migrate over here, stocking up on food whilst winter does it worst back at their other home in the north. Budle Bay must seem like one huge plate of food to them. The path dropped down to a WWII gun emplacement. It was a massive concrete structure and I went inside. The front had a perfect view of the entrance to the bay. I couldn’t really see the Germans landing here anyway with all the quicksand and maze of waterways. They would’ve only been able to land in June or July anyway due to the birds breeding/feeding season. No, I’d have landed on those wonderfully flat sands in front of Bamburgh Castle. Luckily it never came to that. 

I chatted for a while with a fellow who was using his car as a mobile bird hide. He’d parked in the huge carpark alongside the bay. He had a pair of binoculars hanging around his neck and I asked him what he’d seen. Redshank, Shelducks and Teals were on his list. He asked me about the state of the coastal path because he said he was taking a party of people along it later this week. I gave him the honest answer that it was muddy and slippery. We talked a while about the West Highland Way that he said he’d completed in his younger days. I left him to his bird watching. 

Waren Mill

At Waren Mill the England Coast Path drifted inland on its all-year-round route. It followed a single track country road for a few hundred metres and then diverted off on to a path that descended into a caravan site. There was an Artisan Pizza Parlour, that sounded a bit more upmarket than the actual shed it was in. Even so, I guessed that it did a roaring trade during the summer months when the caravans were bustling with people. On the other side of the site, the footpath headed uphill into a field. When I looked back I could see a large building which I guessed was the mill that gave Waren Mill its name.  Waren Mill used to be England's most northerly mainland port during those dark periods when the pesky Scots had taken Berwick Upon Tweed.

Another field hop and I was back on a single track road that then led me to a main road. My turnaround carpark at Harper's Heugh was about half a mile further up the road and so I started plodding my way towards it. The road wasn’t that busy, but the vehicles that did pass me, did it with gusto. If it hadn’t been a requirement for my England Coast Path North East venture, it wouldn’t have been a route of choice. I reached the carpark and reserved my spot for tomorrow's walk. It was now time to turn around and head back to Bamburgh. 

Return

The initial road section was just as boring as on my outward journey. At least there was a verge on which to stand when vehicles flew past. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to continuing my journey along it tomorrow. There was just one other car parked in the three or four hundred metre long carpark at Budle Bay. For some curious reason the driver had decided to park at an angle so that the back end of his car overhung the main road. I suppose it did give him a more convenient angle to see the birds in the bay. 

 In one of the fields on the way back, I found the casing for a portable toilet (lid still attached) blown to a halt against a fence. It would have been an ideal additional for my wildcamps, although I'm sure it would have been frowned upon by the ultralight fraternity. There were two club swingers actually trying to play their curious game as I wandered across their course. They must have struggled with the strong wind. As I approached the club house the sun broke through the clouds and cast a golden glow over proceedings. It was so good to see colours after the grey drabness of the last three days. There were plenty of people on the beach in front of Bamburgh Castle now. Another horse and its rider were paddling in the shallows. I didn’t bother going back down on to the beach and just followed the road back down to the carpark 

It had been another testing day at the office in terms of the weather. I had been along this route previously under much sunnier circumstances and the views across Budle Bay are wonderful. If you’ve no desire to follow the England Coast Path religiously, then I’d choose a turnaround point of Waren Mill. Birders may want to bring a long lens or binoculars to identify the birds in the bay.