Joanna's grandmother's maiden name was Stanners, so we were thrilled to find this signpost in the middle of the town.
The village of Alnmouth is a pretty little hamlet with a very long history of occupation going back to pre-historic times. It offers river, sea and beach environments with good and reasonably easy walking options close to hand. It has a number of good eating-places as well as a range of accommodation. Five miles from Alnmouth, the town of Alnwick covers any of your needs that are not met in the village and nearby are the wonderful Alnwick Gardens ). We enjoyed a day off from walking here with a walk around both the village of Alnmouth and a day out in the town of Alnwick, where we did some shopping, and eating and ‘touristy’ things. The shopping included a new pair of walking boots for me, a very good pair of Karrimor ‘hot rock’ boots that will also serve very nicely for our upcoming six-day hike in the Grand Canyon . Purchased in a sale, I got them for half price. Sadly, they will need to be broken in before I can wear them on our coastal adventure so they will not do for the next three days. In addition to replacing the boots we took the opportunity to replace some other equipment that was showing signs of wear. When it came to the time to leave Alnmouth it was clear that the blisters on my feet would continue to be problematic. As we were using B & B for the second half of our walk, at the beginning of the adventure we had left our car in Alnmouth so that we could leave the heavy camping equipment at the halfway point and drop down to using one rucksack. In the boot of the car I had an old pair of walking shoes that I decided to use rather than my walking boots in the hope they would be kinder to my blisters. A forlorn hope as it turned out. On the morning of our leaving it was raining and we needed to don the waterproofs for the first part of our journey. We left our accommodation on Riverside Road and headed up the River Aln towards and over the bridge (extreme left of photo) at the river to access our route on the other side. By the time we reached the path (about ten minutes) the rain had stopped and we had good views back across the river to the village and estuary. The walking here was good on a flat, grassy path that ran parallel to but off the road (A1068) and just above Alnmouth Bay. It quickly became obvious that as a result of the blisters on my feet I would be unable to carry the rucksack. Modern day bags, with all their straps and buckles do a very good job of distributing weight such that you do not unduly feel the weight on your back and shoulders. Rather it is channelled through the hips and down the legs. Ordinarily, I rarely feel the weight on my back until we have walked quite a few miles. Not today! Unfortunately, when the weight goes through your hips it has to end up somewhere and that somewhere is inevitably on the soles of your feet. Despite a day off, the three large blisters on the sole of my right foot and heel were still pretty raw. When I carried the pack it resulted in me needing to walk on the outside of my foot and, in turn, this led to strain on my ankle and calve. Pretty soon my leg was cramping up and walking was very difficult. However, we were determined not to give up and Joanna agreed to try carrying the pack, which she did so pretty relentlessly for the next three days, apart from the odd occasion when I could take it for a half hour or so. Well done that lady! The sea was tempestuous, throwing her white hair in temper. Wild flowers grew in abundance on the path edges and in places huge swathes of marigold daisy and red poppy grew side by side. In the distance we could just make out the village of Warkworth lying slightly back from the coast and, down on the coast itself, the town of Amble with the two lighthouses at the mouth of the River Coquet. The views along the beach with the dark, stormy skies and wild sea were exhilarating. Freed from the weight of the rucksack for the first time since I started the coastal walk I enjoyed being able to wander across the beach and sand dunes at will; a bit like a young rabbit in Springtime, if you will! Just below Warkworth, we needed to cut inland to access the crossing over the River Coquet. On the bridge I pointed out to Joanna two herons standing sentinel in the shallows of the river obviously looking for fish. She assured me they were plastic, until one of them took to the wing and gracefully moved upstream. Nice to be right; for the first time since 1952 according to Joanna! Our route took us in to the centre of Warkworth which is dominated by Warkworth Castle . We had a quick look around from the outside as we have decided that it is too costly to go in to every ancient monument that we pass by. The first defensive structure on the site is thought to have been a ‘defensive burh’ commissioned by Ethelfleda the daughter of Alfred the Great in 914 AD. The first castle was built in 1068 in the time of William the Conqueror. Warkworth Castle is a substantial structure that has had a lot on money spent on restoration work in recent times and which organises a variety of events. Merlin Entertainment Group is the current owner. Joanna's grandmother's maiden name was Stanners, so we were thrilled to find this signpost in the middle of the town. We continued via the main road along the front of castle, dropping down the hill to follow the route of the River Coquet. Mid-way to Amble , there is a weir on the river and by the weir we delighted to find a number of herons either in the river or roosting in the nearby shrubbery. There were nice views back to the town and castle and forward to the marina at Amble. In the silty mud on the banks of the river the eerie, skeletal remains of abandoned boats glowered at us as we walked past. Although we were walking on a fairly busy road at this juncture, it was a pleasant walk for all that. The riverside was very pretty in parts and the walk through the marina at the entrance to Amble with its collection of yachts and motorboats was also compelling. We stopped in Amble at a wee café for lunch. Joanna striding in to the establishment with a huge rucksack on her back and me following on with only a breezy air and a smile was a cause of some merriment and led to one of the local wags asking me if she had a sister he could have! We, or more correctly me, had obviously sinned in 'allowing' Joanna to carry the rucksack. After lunch we made our way through the town to emerge back on to the coast just after Pan Point with the distinctive white house on the top. Amble is famed among other things for its beaches, particularly the one on the mighty Druridge Bay and we headed for the sands as soon as we could. Near Wellhaugh Point there was an area which was filled with wild cranesbill and golden rod and from there we had great views across the water to Coquet Island with its lighthouse and ruined monastic cell and medieval tower. St Cuthbert is said to have met Elfleda the Abbess of Whitby Abbey on the island in 680 AD. Now in the hands of the RSPB Coquet Island is home to a large colony of seabirds. The medieval tower had a lighthouse built on top of it in the 19C, that was manned by William Darling, the brother of the heroine, Grace Darling. In the photographs, the white lighthouse can be seen sitting on top of the medieval tower. Views of Coquet Island The mighty Druridge Beach stretches for about seven miles from Amble to Cresswell and throughout its length contrasts the endlessly flat stretch of sand and sea (with occasional rock formations) with a series of wetlands, created primarily by opencast mining in the area, lying just behind the dunes. The walk along the beach is a challenge in itself because of due to its length and the general immensity of the surroundings it is difficult to perceive yourself making any progress. When the sun and tide are out there is seemingly endless blue sky, sea and sand; or like today, for much of the walk the far distance in either direction was hidden by light mist and, at times, there was a kind of mirage effect when hazy, lazy light did break through. It was a long haul, in changeable weather conditions and, despite the majesty of the beach, we were glad to reach the small hamlet of Cresswell at the end. Just across the road from where you exit the beach there are the remains of a haunted ‘pele tower’ from the 15thC. From Cresswell we had a walk of about two miles inland to reach our accommodation at the Plough Inn, Ellington where we received a very friendly welcome from the staff and where, with great relief, I freed my feet from the confines of tight, ill fitting walking shoes and collapsed on the bed. Joanna? I think she went for a run!
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