On a successful Red Sea crossing

Today was a day for touristing. First off was Bamburgh Castle as restored by the 1st Lord Armstrong, weapons merchant, scientist, engineer, businessman, philanthropist and shipbuilder. The site had been a fortress for time immemorial, predating the Angles, as Ida the Flamebearer (possible ancestor of Bernard Cornwell) captured it from the Celtic Britons. It was an interesting mix of eras and Victorian wealth. The purist can grouch, but it was interesting to see how the various buildings and rooms had been re-purposed over the years.

It was after twelve before I was done. Consequently, I had a ham and cheese toastie for lunch and headed of for the the Holy Island. I was under a certain time limitation as access to the Island was via a causeway which would be flooded by the tide by 16:20. So it behoved me to get cranking. NCN 1 took me along country lanes and up a 17% grade and around to the causeway which I crossed with the wind behind me.

I visited the Lindisfarne Priory, learnt about St-Aidan and St-Cuthbert and bought some local mead. Then I headed back. I had thoughts about Red Sea Pedestrians and Egyptians as I cranked against the wind. I knew that I was in plenty of time, but the salt water on the road, blown by the wind was preying on my overactive imagination. I made it, of course.

I paused for a break on permanently dry land. I noticed that there was a half dozen bikes of various sizes on the bank across the road behind a minibus. I asked if I might take a picture and fell into a conversation with one of the women. It was part of outing by locals for kids and family. Most of them were going back by van, but she and a boy were going to bike part of the way. Part of this was on a farm path parallelling the road on the NCN 1. We set off together, but I soon left them behind, then was turned off on another farm lane by the NCN 1.

This got smaller and less kempt. Eventually, it became a single track bike path on top of a dike. I was quite glad I had 37 mm wide tires! In front of a farm gate, I encountered a Scot from Aviemore on a pedal-electric bike with a trailer. He was returning home after a summer going around the Baltic. After the gate there was a tarmacked road with a sign warning people going the other way that the area was a former military firing range so please be wary of any unexploded munitions! The Scot and I paced each other to Berwick-upon-Tweed, through the hazards of flying golf balls and across farmers fields. We helped each other with farm gates and the like. Then we got to Berwick and went our separate ways.

Supper was some tasty Indian food.