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Day 8 – Into the wind
My abode for the night in Seahouses was bed only. There was no one on reception, just instructions as to how to get into the room which I got to by way of a metal outdoor staircase. I was told to leave my bike in the boiler room, and they had left a key in the lock of the door for me to use and keep overnight: only one problem, the key didn’t lock the door. I took a chance and left Lucy totally unguarded, thinking that the chances of anything untoward happening were pretty slim. My room was quite small with two single beds taking up most of the space and no desk. My eyes lit up when I spotted a fan heater which would be useful for clothes drying but it was broken and dangerous in that the heating elements worked but the fan didn’t. The shower was electric and had a mind of its own, not responding to the controls so I nearly scalded myself. I managed to get it to a bearable temperature, I’m not sure how, but I cleaned myself. Given these three problems I thought I’d email and tell them the problems. The email bounced back.
There was a Co-op across the road, so I bought a bottle of wine for the blog and some rolls, egg mayo and salami for breakfast. There was a choice of restaurants and I liked the look of an Italian but when I rocked up it was heaving so I went round the corner to an Indian which wasn’t quite so busy. Onion Bahjis looked great but disappointed with their lack of crispness. The Malaya lamb curry was good, nicely spiced and I washed down well with a pint of Cobra. Just under £30 was reasonable value.
Having put together and eaten my breakfast I left just before 9, briefly passing the time of day with a man staying in the same building who was on his way back to Derbyshire. The wind was fresh, and in my face, and forecast to increase as the day went on. A bare three miles into the journey I came to a road closed sign. Whilst I usually ignore these and expect to get through with a bike, there was a reasonable alternative which I took, adding a couple of miles to an already long day. The roads were quiet and, apart from the wind, I was enjoying myself. I by-passed Craster, famous for kippers but got a shot of the pretty village across the bay
I was travelling on an A road and managed to miss the cycle track beside it, something I did several times today. After a mile or so I was able to switch to the track and had a pleasant ride to Lesbury, crossing the river Aln which gives its name to the County Town Alnwick and the estuary at Alnmouth.
Lots more cycle track beside main roads until I reached Amble. Now I’m concerned about the state of my back tyre, with two punctures yesterday and I would like to change the tyre for the most puncture resistant specimen I can buy. I had looked at Google maps and twigged that there were a couple of bike shops in Amble that might provide what I wanted but I spent a fruitless half hour, failing to find one and finding the other closed.
Onwards along the coast, cycle paths all the way: some tarmac, some loose stone but generally OK. Thirty years ago, Rob (aged 14) and I joined many others (at least 100) to cycle coast to coast from Druridge Bay in Northumberland to Silloth in Cumbria, to celebrate the founding of the National Trust in 1895. I remember, particularly, at least three Pennyfarthings completing the journey. Back then I was not cycling regularly and found it really hard, but we both made it to the finish. I had a Renault Espace and we drove to Druridge and needed to car to end up in Silloth so I gave the keys to a total stranger and asked him to deliver it to Silloth! All was well.
Anyway, the reason for that pre-amble is that I cycled past our point of departure today.
The wind was unrelenting as I continued along the coast making my way, often with wrong turnings through North Seaton and Blyth, at one point getting onto a main road and having to grit my teeth and put up with heavy traffic for a couple of miles.
Eventually past Blyth where a shower of rain threatened briefly, I once again hit the coast and followed it on hard cycle tracks through Witley Bay
to North Shields where I copped the first really good bit of luck for the day when I caught the ferry just before it left to cross the Tyne. A couple of minutes later and I would have been waiting half an hour for the next sailing.
£2.60 to save cycling all the way into Newcastle was a small price to pay.
Once at South Shields I was feeling that the journey was almost complete, but Sunderland was still 12 miles away and I kept getting lost. Eventually I found myself on an old railway line which started with a good tarmac surface which gradually deteriorated until I took to the main road, past the Sunderland Greyhound Stadium and through housing estates until, finally, I reached the bridge over the river Wear.
A few more errors of navigation and I finally arrived, exhausted, at my Premier Inn hotel. I’ve paid for breakfast tomorrow, but I’ll eat out tonight.
It’s been a hard day, due to the wind which has been blowing a steady force 4 in my face all day. I’ve got a similar length of journey tomorrow over slightly more hills
