Back in 2017 we spent a night in a hotel at St. Bees, on our way up to Gretna Green to get married. This is not our van but it seemed appropriate at the time. Today we are setting out from the same hotel to drive to Drigg – a village some 13 miles down the coast – and then walk back.
After sharing our breakfast with the birds, we head down to the causeway – it is low tide so we walk out past a few of the long guidance poles just to get an idea of what it feels like – damp.
Dread to think what has happened here,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
On starting this coast walk a lifetime ago, I decided not to include islands, or anywhere that calls itself an island – but Lindisfarne has got to be an exception.
Continue readingSince writing the last post I have realised that my excitement about landing on Lindisfarne was premature – we actually have one more walk to do before our two night stay on the Holy Island. And this is it…..
Continue readingWe spend some time trying to find a place to park on the narrow minor road, having just been told in no uncertain terms that we cannot park in the big EMPTY yard outside the cottage. But just down the road we slide into a layby overlooking Cocklawburn Beach and strap on our boots.
Damian arrives back around lunchtime so we plan a short walk from Sea Cottage near Scremerston back to Berwick. It’s a beautiful day for lacing up your walking boots.
A clear path across the top of the cliffs presents us with views over what’s marked on the map as Cargie’s Plantation and Redshin Cove – both very un British names..
Doesn’t take long before we can see Berwick in the distance….
And then we’re down on the promenade…………
After a mile of seaside attractions the path winds round to the left to follow the south bank of the Tweed. We now follow a minor road past the docks – moored next to the harbour wall rests a Jack-Up Drilling Rig which allows for mobile offshore drilling in shallow waters.
I am much more interested in the flotilla of swans gliding around within the harbour walls.
Our destination is the Old Berwick Bridge where I started off a couple of days ago, heading north for the Scottish border. it is a majestic sight rising out of the mist.
It’s neighbour, the Royal Tweed Bridge is equally impressive in its own way.
Distance: 3 miles
It has been raining all morning but around 1pm it eases off so I pull myself together and head out. Through the eye of the needle and across the corn field, I turn left and continue along the coast path to the caravan site at Marshall Meadows. Turning round to take a photo I see a bedraggled runner walking a little wearily towards me. He is wet and muddy and wears a number on his shorts. I wonder where he has come from and where he’s going to, but all is made clear further up the path.
Damian’s off again – on the train back to London, so I have an afternoon and morning to complete some short walks around Berwick.
Continue readingI am on my own this morning for this short jaunt to Bamburgh. Damian has gone ahead with the car, intending to take a look around the Armstrong Aviation Artefacts Museum in the castle. I set off down towards the beach.
It takes a while to track down a taxi driver who understands where we want to go, but eventually we get lucky – a lovely man from Belford, three miles south west of Ross. The weather is turning and rain clouds are slowly covering up the only patch of blue sky.
Continue reading
Joining the Dots 