Alien Invasion

I followed the main coast road southwards and this brought me to Nose's Point. Looking back towards Seaham, I could see an impressive sea stack on the beach. Not so long ago, Nose's Point was a huge industrial site making pig iron in blast furnaces. Dawden pit was the main employer for the area and at its height, it employed 3,300 men. As with other collieries along the north east coast, spoil was just dumped over the cliff and down on to the beach. For obvious reasons, the coast below the cliffs is known as Blast Beach. The terrain is so...well, alien...that they filmed some of the scenes of Alien 3 on it. Although the area has now been cleaned up, there are still warning signs around asking you not to come into contact with water pools in any mining debris still left around. It is interesting how we look back at the mining practices now and are aghast at how we could have let such an environmental problem happen. Some people today say that if we could see and smell the pollution caused by oil and gas, our attitudes towards their use would quickly change. Of course, by the time that their effects will become apparent, it will be too late to do anything. 

Hive Point

The coastal path was squeezed into the area between the main north east railway line and the cliffs along the coast. Just before Hive Point, the footpath traveserses the railway line on a pedestrian crossing. Given the speed of the trains along the line it is advisable to look both ways and not to hang about. The railway company even has a traffic light for the pedestrian now, which is quite a nice addition. Before crossing the railway line, it is possible to get down to the beach on a path just beyond the railway crossing point. It is a steep drop down, but there are some steps to ease the process. I went to the beach along this path, the last time I did this walk. There is a pill box on the stony beach and there is a great view of the brick railway bridge that spans the nearby ravine. It is a long way down, and a long way back up  again and I didn't fancy the prospect today. This was partly due to my knowledge that the continuation of the path across the railway line actually descends down into the ravine anyway. I safely crossed the railway line and descended into the ravine. It is quite impressive with steep cliff faces on either side and is filled with trees and foliage. It seemed like I'd stepped into a prehistoric world. Well it did until I looked up and saw the London to Edinburgh train hurtling across the bridge high above me. 

Fox Holes Dene

The climb back up to the clifftop goes underneath the bridge and so there is no requirement to play chicken crossing the railway line again. Once I reached the top of the cliffs again, the walk flattened out and was a delight. There were some great views down on to the cliffs and beaches below. The sun had come out and it had turned into a wonderful day. Showers? What showers? What did weather forecasters know? The footpath turned inland at Fox Holes Dene, towards Easington.

Two elderly men were sat on a bench at the side of the path. I said 'Hello' as I walked towards them and then at the last moment saw that there was a pile of dog shite directly in front of them. I managed to make a bizarre extended step over it which made them both chuckle. I proclaim County Durham as being the Dog Shite County Of England. I've never seen so much of the stuff here. On the other side of the dene I met a worried looking man walking towards me. 'Have you seen a small dog back there? I've lost him.' I told him that I hadn't. As I walked past him I saw a small dog coming up the track. 'Is this your dog?' I called back to him. He turned around and said 'Two of my dogs are following me, but I lost one of them up ahead.' I left him in his search. I got back to the coast again and continued southwards. It wasn't long before I got to Warren House Gill, my turning point of the day. I'd reached this very point on my walk yesterday, when I walked northwards from Crimdon Dene (see Get Carter Reunion). 

Marra

On my way back to Fox Holes Dene I came across the fellow I'd met earlier who had been searching for his dog. He'd obviously found it because three dogs were following him now. We started chatting and I'm guessing that it lasted about 10 to 15 minutes. He lived in the local town of Horden. He showed me the tracker on his dog's collar. 'It only works with an O2 phone' he revealed, '...and I haven't got one.' That did beg a question, but I didn't ask it. We talked about the miners' strike and the effects on our local areas, although we were both too young to be involved in the conflict ourselves. I told him how much I liked the statue of 'Tommy' in Seaham. He said that there was another one by the same artist in a park in Horden. He said it was called 'Marra' which he said was a local miner's name for a mate. I thought that I might have a look at that on the way back to my hotel. He didn't think much to the towns around here. 'Peterlee is a shithole' was his verdict. After setting the world to rights I went northwards and he, with his 3 dogs, headed off southwards. 

Kestrel

Beyond Fox Holes Dean I came across a Kestrel that was hovering above a ridge from the cliff. The updraft from the wind must have been immense, but the bird was as steady as a rock. I got my camera out and started snapping photos. Eventually the Kestrel swooped off for a better hunting ground. An elderly couple who had also been watching the bird, approached and we started chatting. They were from Redcar and told me about the Tees Port that was currently being constructed. 'It's scandalous. 90% of the land and property have been given away to a private company.' I'd heard about this on the news too. I told them that I'd walked on Redcar's beach a couple of month's back and seen all the dead starfish (see Redcar Dead Man's Money). I'd read that the locals thought this was due to poisonous industrial chemicals being disturbed in the sediment where the new port was being constructed. They told me that the beach had been deep with dead crabs earlier this year. We discussed the demolition and salvage of the huge blast furnace at the industrial site near South Gare. The couple had protested against the demolition saying that it should remain as part of the area's industrial heritage. The pair of them certainly had a lot of fire in their bellies. A pity that the younger generation aren't as enraged too. 

Hive Hermit

As I approached the ravine at Hive Point, the sky turned from grey to black until the clouds couldn't hold the rain any longer and a monsoon started. I'm not usually lucky in these sorts of scenarios, but just as the stair rods pierced the ground, I walked past a cave cut into the ravine. I got my sit mat out, sat down and started eating my sarnies while watching the ravine occasionally illuminate with lightning and wincing at the thunder bouncing off the walls. Half an hour later, I wondered if the storm would ever stop. The intensity of the rain seemed as strong as when it first started. As I considered just getting my waterproofs on and 'going for it', two women suddenly appeared out of the foliage at the bottom of the ravine. They dashed to my cave without first asking permission whether they could enter the residence of the Hive Hermit. I didn't mind of course and enjoyed their company. They told me that they'd both worked down in Nottingham, but one had come back 'home' to Seaham. We compared notes about the local coastline. The Seaham lass had been to Sheffield University and had lived near to Ecclesall Road, a place I know reasonably well. They were both drenched. I was glad I'd had the fortune to walk straight into this cave when the downpour started. As if by magic, the sun came out and the rain stopped. They headed off to the beach. There is a path that leads down to the beach from the south side of the ravine and is less steep than that one on the north. I continued my journey back to Seaham on some very wet tracks.

Carnival

Just after Nose's Point the sky blackened again and the rain and thunder started. There were no handy caves to dash into this time and I got soaked as I plodded towards Seaham. The rain hammered off the pavement. It relented somewhat as I reached the centre of the town and the site of the carnival. I looked behind me and could see more ominous dark clouds approaching. The carnival had obviously turned into a disaster. The only people there were the vendors and they looked as though they were getting prepared to leave. I went into the midde of the main grassy area in front of the giant TV. It was playing one of the Minion movies. An animated devil type character appeared on the screen and behind him the clouds looked like an apocalypse was about to happen. It was all rather surreal. The rain started again and I made a dash for the shop fronts of the high street. How many policemen and police dogs can you get into one doorway? Well, five (including the dog) apparently. I stood next to the doorway trying to get as much protection from the rain as I could. Eventually it was too much for the police dog. and the dog handler led him over to the Dogmobile. The other policemen dashed off to a nearby café. I took the opportunity of their departure and stepped into the doorway they'd vacated. It wasn't long before I was joined by a man, his daughter and their dog, and a fat fellow who was so large that he blocked my view of the Minion's film. It didn't really matter though since they soon switched the giant screen off; it looked like they'd had enough too and were packing up too. I felt sorry for the organisers. The middle of July and you get weather like this. When the torrent turned to light rain, I waved goodbye to sad Tommy and headed off towards the carpark.

The day had turned out to be very memorable. I'd chatted to a lot of people. Some days are like that. I quite like Seaham. They've evidently spent some money on the place to smarten it up. I saw some heritage trails on one of the information board's in the town centre. I might try them one day since the area has a very interesting industrial past.