Dunes

There was a club swinging course next to the carpark. It was too early for the members and so I didn't have to put my tin hat on as I headed for the dunes. The seaward bound track brought me to the North Gare Breakwater and I spent a few moments admiring the sheer power of the sea as large waves exploded into white foam as it hit the rocks. I had a great view from here too. To the south I could see the nearby power station and the industrial plants of Teeside. Further along the coast, beyond the 'just-off-shore' windfarm, I could see the massive cliffs at Boulby. Northwards, I could see a long stretch of dunes and beach to the houses of Seaton Carew. Beyond them I could see The Headland of Hartlepool (my turnaround point). It seemed a quite a distance away. I'd forgotten to check the length of this walk. I hoped it didn't turn into an epic. 

The beach was far too rocky to walk across near to the Breakwater and so I had to make my way northwards, for half a mile or so, through the dunes. Surprisingly there wasn't a definitive path and I had to make constant choices between the vague tracks. There must have been a significant fire here recently since the gorse bushes were charred. This did actually help me since some of the tracks were narrow and I was constantly brushing against what remained of the needles on the bushes.  I was happier when I reached the last of the rocky shore line and I could drop down to the sandy beach. 

Seaton Carew

The beach was sandy, but it also had its fair share of small pebbles and rocks too. I think I'd been spoilt by Redcar's pure sand beach just south of the Tees. It wasn't long before I started meeting dog walkers and a couple of joggers. By the time I reached Seaton Carew's promenade, it seemed quite busy. There was a total of eight brightly coloured beach huts on the promenade. They had all been given names. I rather liked Looney Dunes, but my Best Named Seaton Carew Beach Hut prize went to Sandy Bottoms. I quite liked Seaton Carew, mostly because the coastal road kept away from the promenade for the most part. It felt a little understated. I called the coastal walkway a promenade, but maybe I should have called it an esplanade since a commemorative stone had the following inscription: ' To commemorate the opening of the esplanade by the worshipful the mayor (Councillor R. Sargeant) 17th August 1905.' To be honest, I'm not sure what the difference is between a promenade and an esplanade. I thought esplanade was just a posh name for promenades. Personally, I think it should have been called dogshitenade since there were so many dollops of the stuff that making progress forward required a technique I perfected playing hopscotch at school. I'm going to do a scientific study one day to see what the relationship is with dog dumps and the distance from a carpark. 

Hartlepool

The esplanade brought me to some newbuilds that had been erected near to the Hartlepool marina. It should have felt a bit upmarket, but somehow didn't. I think it was due to the lack of people. I walked through these empty urban canyons making my way towards the masts of what looked like an old sailing ship. The England Coastal Path signs had been more miss than hit so far, but you are never going to be that far away from the path on a coastal path. Some wag had turned one of the signs around so that you'd end up going around in circles if you followed it. I would have pointed it the right way, but it had been attached too far up the lamppost for me to reach. 

The masts that I could see were those of HMS Trincomalee at the Royal Navy Museum. This was actually built in India and named after the Battle Of Trincomalee off the Ceylon port of that name. The navy had secreted the ship in an harbour surrounded by high buildings and so I couldn't actually see the ship unless I paid £10 to get into the museum. It wasn't open for another hour and I had a busy day ahead of me, and so I decided to give it a miss on this occasion. 

The Headland

Those normal people who don't want to complete every step of the Northeast England Coastal Path would be better served by turning around here and heading back to Seaton Snook. The ECP from here followed some very busy roads (A179, A1048 and A1049), working its way around the substantial port area, to get to the Hartlepool promontory known as The Headland. The route was all on pavements and so was safe enough, but there was the constant drone of cars and the detritus that A roads seem to accumulate. I put my brain in 'standby' mode and plodded on. Some ECP signs even started making an appearance, although they weren't really required. Initially I walked by retail estates, but eventually these started being replaced by housing estates, as I approached The Headland. I'd walked around The Headland area a couple of times before and so I knew what to expect. The western end feels like it needs a lick of paint, whilst the eastern end near to the sea, contains the old houses and feels a bit more homely. The port security fence had been my buddy on my journey to The Headland and the locals had tried to cheer the area up by attaching crocheted pictures to the austere barrier. They added some much needed colour and certainly cheered me up. I finally reached the old section of the town and at last I had a view of the harbour and bay. I made my way along the old harbour wall to a small park. This is where I'd terminated my coastal walk from the north (see Crimdon Tide). I chose a different bench from last time, on which to sit and nibble on a hot cross bun. The bench had a memorial plaque on it with the inscription: ' Kennedy, Precious Memories of George Henry and Margaret 'Meggie' Loving Parents of 19 Children.' I contemplated this as I munched my cinnamon treat. '19 kids; they must have been at it like bunnies' I pondered. I then reconsidered and thought that they might've been foster parents. My rational side always seems to intrude like this and spoil things. 

Greggs

The view from the park across Hartlepool Bay was stunning. I could Seaton Snook, far along the coast. Bloody hell, it seemed far away! There was no point moping and so I set off back. The esplanade and pavements had been icy this morning, to the point of treacherous in places. During my short stay at The Headland the temperature must have increased somewhat since the ice had now mostly disappeared. This made the going easier. Back at the retail outlets I stopped off at a Greggs to get a coffee and pasty. 'Wllyarbesytnginhrrrorrrganninootsde?' By the intonation at the end of this string of letters, I assumed that the young Greggs assistant was asking me a question. 'Pardon?' I mustered. 'Wllyarbesytnginhrrrorrrganninootsdeyafknijit?' I'd heard a radio item about real-time translators that some people can get with their phones. I could really have done with one of them now. I asked if she could speak a little more slowly, with possibly some slight pauses between the words, and maybe in received English too . She looked a bit indignant, but after her sixth iteration I realised that all she wanted to know was whether I would be eating my pasty inside or outside. 'Thank goodness for that' I thought 'I'm glad that's sorted out.' 'Dyapyngbicardwitustdy?' 'Aye, aye, we are back to square one again.' I thought. There was an increasingly impatient queue behind me. 'She's asking if you are paying by card' came a helpful interjection from a bemused fellow sitting at a nearby table. 5 minutes later, I left the Greggs establishment with a cheese and onion pasty that was now cold. 

Return

Back on the esplanade I played my dogshite avoidance hopscotch game again. The tide was going out as I hit the beach at Seaton Carew. A couple of horse riders trotted up and down the beach. Rather, their horses did the trotting and the riders just sat on them. The day had that winter gloom about it now. All day, the light had definitely looked better over the North Yorkshire  moors further to the south. Back in the dunes, I actually came to a cul-de-sac in the burnt gorse bushes at one point, and I had to make a dignified retreat. The club swingers were out in force now, swiping their little balls and driving their little buggies between the greens. I had to wait while one swinger pitched his golf ball over the route of the public path and then dropped another golf ball to do exactly the same thing again. I guess he was getting two rounds in for the price of one. The carpark was surprisingly full when I got back. I think the feature of it being free made it quite attractive. 

Well, I've completed the Seaton Carew to Hartlepool section of the England Coastal Path. Most of it was a pleasant coastal walk. The bit around the perimeter of Hartlepool's port, less so. I've deemed the walk from here to RSPB Salthome, further down the coast, too dangerous to walk. I attempted to do that section from RSPB Saltholme last year and gave up after about a hundred yards. Those 32 tonners driving past me at arm's length just put me off. Maybe I'll wait until the English Coastal Path Administrators come up with a better route.