May 10, 2024
Alnmouth to Seahouses
Sleep wasn't great and breakfast isn't anything to write home about. The landlady presented it to me yesteday when I checked in. It's a plastic basket holding two tiny croissants and a couple of small cartons of orange juice. I scoff them and head downstairs and wheel my bike out from the cramped cellar and marvel at the sunshine.
The knobbly front tyre is totally flat. At least it's easy to get off. I set to and locate a small sharp piece of something, fit a patch to the tube and pump it up, then pop back up to my room to wash my grimy hands.
The nearby church was closed yesterday, so I call in to look at the windows in the apse, as they were designed by the acclaimed Charles Kempe and are in the Arts and Crafts style that was becoming popular in the 1870s.
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I'm finally on my way out of Alnmouth at 9:40. The bike path follows the coast, but I ride west and go past the train station then make a right at Bilton House. Its garden wall is listed, as is the long, stone building at the back that was once a cartshed and granary. There are a few cars parked there.
The lane runs through countryside and I pedal north without seeing a soul.
There's an obseratory and I detour up a steep lane and, after getting through a big gate, start walking across a field that has thick mud that's thankfully dried hard. There's a mixture of mud and cowpats and I soon get the sense this isn't the right route so check Google Maps and it's confirmed. It's a case of dropping back down the hill.
The correct way soon appears, but I can't be bothered climbing again and get sight of the stone building perched on a ridge as I ride by it not too long after.
The lane becomes rutted, drops quite steeply and ends at a clear stream. There are round concrete stepping stones across and I'm sorting out my camera when a jogger appears. He's literally reached the end of the road and tells me that he'll have run an 18km loop once he turns around and gets back to base. It's still only 10:40 when I look at my Casio. That's some going. I tell him about my plan and he suggests a couple of islands to visit. One is home to puffins.
After carrying my bike across the stones and fighting through dense nettles, the lane climbs and has grass growing along its middle. Eventually I veer east through what the map says is Littlehoughton and then cross over a bridge spanning rail lines as the lane leads me towards the coast.
Howick Hall was home to Earl Grey, whose name is famously linked to tea. It's on my itinerary and I ride below a stone footbridge and make my way to the entrance. There's going to be a fee, but I reckon it'll be worth a look around, plus there's a nice cafe inside and I'm ready for a break.
Officially being a codger, I get a small discount and the man behind the counter says to leave my bike beside the kiosk . It's a nice walk around the gardens and I make my way towards the Grey family church, where there's a memorial. I take a snap of it and also at a couple of other spots before going back to the Hall and into the tea rooms, where I order some soup and a pot of Earl Grey. It's all very civilised.
After a quick look inside the Hall, with its Chinese room, I get back on my bike and head towards the sea.
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The lane heads directly to the coast and then there's a gravel footpath leading out to the sea. I venure down it, then ride north. There are a few wooden gates to go through and I notice one has a no cycling sign on it, so I veer off onto the adjacent lane and keep pedalling north towards Dunstan.
I make a wrong turn, ending up dropping down into Craster, a small fishing village. There's a grassy track leading north up the coast, but a gate also says no cycling and I know the track just ends at the ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle, so pedal back up the hill and follow the cycle path signs for Embleton. That's 15 minutes wasted, plus a bit of energy.
The path cuts through a farm yard and takes me into Embleton, with The Blue Bell Inn standing on a corner. It's tempting to stop for a beer, but I know riding would be even more laboured if I did, and it's pretty laboured already. Instead I call in at the post office just around the corner and get some cold drinks and a snack. They sell some small bags of candy shaped like puffin poop, which I pass on.
Down the street from the post office, a bike path sign points west and it's where I'd planned to ride, but instead I opt to stick to the main B1339. It's not very busy.
My goal today is the small port of Seahouses, not inland, as there are hotels there and the sooner I arrive to get a room the better. My phone says is out of data, so I can't book online and my plan of winging it and riding to Belford is a bit risky, as there are only a couple of hotel options there.
The familiar sound of two-stroke engines can be heard as I pedal north and Lambretta after Lambretta zip past. When I finally reach Seashouses, there are dozens of the vintage Italian scooters in town. It turns out this is a national gathering.
The first hotel says they're full, so I call across the road and get quoted £124. It is what it is. I use my plastic. My bike gets locked to a steel rack outside the block I'm staying in, out of sight from the car park, but I wonder if it'll be there in the morning.
The Bamburgh Castle hotel turns out to be a popular spot and it's where I dine and have a couple of pints, eventually getting a table on the terrace that overlooks the harbour once the crowds have gone. I use the hotel wifi to get online, but wonder why my mobile data has been used up already. It's another of life's mysteries.
Today's ride: 36 km (22 miles)
Total: 345 km (214 miles)
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