Ambling to Amble

Day 1 of the walk. The Northumberland Coastal Path begins from a place called Cresswell, so getting there was the first task of the day. Well, perhaps not the very first task of the day, but the first directly connected to the walking part. 

There had been an anime convention in Newcastle this weekend, so we were forever bumping into groups of cosplayers wandering around. I can't tell you exactly who they were cosplaying as, because I don't know, but they all looked pretty impressive and they brought a dash of colour to the city. This morning, however, they had reverted to cosplaying as normies (though it was fairly easy to guess which of them had spent the weekend in anime-tion)

Anyway, I digress. We arrived at the bus station, where bay P was where our bus left from. Bay Q was buses for Berwick. It was tempting, but... no. Instead we went on what I quickly realised was the football bus, because it passed many football landmarks. From the off we could see St James's Park, home of Saudi Arabia  Newcastle Utd. We passed through Gosforth, birthplace of Alan Shearer, and passed the town of Wideopen, a name one could hear Shearer saying in his geordie accent "Wayay Man, he was Wideopen". Near to Blyth, home of the Spartans, into Bedlington, home of the terriers (as well as the football team, there actually does appear to be an actual dog called a Bedlington Terrier. I've looked it up, and I have to say, it's not a beautiful dog, is it?). Then into Ashington. Everyone knows Ashington, the pit village which produced some of England's best ever players. Jackie Milburn, Bobby and Jack Charlton, and a bunch of others. Finally, before Cresswell, Ellington, famous more for its nobleman, a jazz pianist.


But we finally got to Cresswell, our starting point. The starting point of the trail itself. But, it's now been subsumed into the English Coastal Path. The English Coastal Path is obviously a good thing, but it felt a bit like its existence has sort of lessened the importance of the Northumberland path. And by association the heroicness of our own journey.

So, we set off ambling towards Amble, our first days destination. But, we didn't just amble. We strode purposefully. We wandered. We strolled, trudged, ambulated, rambled, sauntered, and traipsed. To think, there were members of the populace, the hoi polloi, the multitude, who ridiculed and derided me for electing to carry a 1 kg copy of Roget's Thesaurus on the hike. Not guffawing and chortling now, are you, naysayers?

We'd been promised (and/or threatened with) a heatwave. But it was kind of chilly. The sea breeze was strong, it was very cloudy, and I don't think it got much warmer than 15° - it's possible that 15 represents a heat wave in Northumberland. But I'd be surprised.

We started along the beach. Almost empty save for people with dogs (no Bedlington Terriers) 

"The beach is deserted except for some kelp." Bob Dylan got the nobel prize for literature for lines like that 


But it was, as mentioned, chilly on the beach. So eventually we cut back behind the dunes and it warmed up a bit. This was one of our shorter days, a mere 15km, and obviously pretty flat. But being unused to carrying back packs containing more than just water and snacks it started to get a bit tiring. By the end there was a lot more trudging than striding. But we did it, and let me tell you - that first pint in the pub was glorious 

I'd write more but I'm a bit shattered to be honest. So it will have to wait. 





If it was ma hoose, I'd use an apostrophe 





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