Category: Walks

Melon Twisted at the Shore

It was one of those mornings today. Hectic and stressful, but the boys got to school on time, the wife got to work on time, and I now had the car, and the morning to myself. I could go home, wash up, sort the laundry, and then try to fit in some writing before the errands that I had to do. Or, I could go to the shore and take in some sea air, listen to the sounds of sea meeting land, and enjoy the reassuringly predictable sounds of the trains passing at speed. I chose option 2, and at 9 am on a week day morning, the place should be deserted, except for the odd dog walker here and there.

I was wrong. So wrong that I couldn’t even find somewhere to park. There is always somewhere to park here, but not today. The place was full of white vans and big cars. A production crew for the TV series The Bay. I didn’t see any actual filming happening, but there were lighting rigs set up and lots of filmy-crew type people wandering around.

I did manage to park the car in the space of last resort, at the very end of the track, where the thorns grow over the ruts in the unmetalled road, but even then, there were film crew wandering around. They stopped doing what they doing while I got out of the car and wandered around the gravelly beach looking for beach glass. I didn’t find any and sensed that I wasn’t welcome there. Instead, I would go to another beauty spot, Half Moon Bay.

  • Power Station Venting Steam in the Distance

As is usually the case, when I decided to leave, the barriers came down.

  • Ghost Train in the Machine
  • Northbound Class 88 pulling a container train.

Once I got to Heysham, I could see that the power station was indeed venting steam. If I didn’t have complete faith I could be quite worried, but I’m not.

  • Power station venting

That faith was shaken a little a few weeks ago when we heard a loud banging noise in the night, coming from the direction of the docks/power station. It turned out to be an unplanned shut down at about 11 pm on 15th August. It was heard for miles around, and to me it sounded like a steam train at speed.

There is a new sculpture by the shore at Half Moon Bay, with information about the bird life to be found here.

I wandered around for a bit, but the morning was getting on. I hadn’t had breakfast yet and there was a steak slice in the fridge begging for ninety seconds in the microwave. I didn’t get my soulful wander by the waves, but I did see the film crew, and I am looking forward to seeing the series on screen. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.

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A Mini Adventure Through the English Wilderness

It was the last day of school before the summer, and it was unseasonably warm. England in July, clear skies, 25 degrees; crazy! So, I went to pick up the kids from school at the usual time and found that they were invited to one of their friends’ houses to play. Perfect, I thought, and I agreed to collect them an hour and a half later.

The friends house is effectively just down the road and around a corner or two. About five minutes by car, but on this day I didn’t have the car, and on foot I was looking at a thirty minute walk, maybe more, but as the crow flies, it was more like five minutes in a straight line, if only there was a straight line I could follow. A straight line like a railway for example.

As luck would have it, I happen to have a railway by my house, and that same railways passes the school friends’ house, and looking at the satellite imagery, there looked like a footpath I could take on the other side of the track. So I gave myself ten minutes to make the journey and started walking.

Over the tracks I came across my first problem. Cows.

Cows are notoriously inquisitive, and as soon as they saw me stood on the style they stopped what they were doing and inspected me.

I’ve been in cow fields before, many times. But this felt different, there was something in the air that told me to be cautious, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they somehow knew what I had been doing that morning. Could they sense, somehow, that I had prepared a slow cooked joint of topside that very morning? Should I risk it?

I asked them if I could pass through their field but they said nothing and stood their ground. I decided to find an alternate route. Another way to cross the railway, and another path around the village.

About a hundred meters up the track there is a bridge.

A bridge, and a path so rarely traveled there are trees above the tracks.

Two minutes from home, over a bridge and through a couple of kissing gates, and you’re there, immersed in the green of the English countryside. Fifteen years living on this street and I had no idea that this was here.

Wild berry crumble washed down with nettle beer, now I know where to come.

This is my new favorite foraging spot, and the air is thick with insects, bees, butterflies. Grasshoppers leap from the thick undergrowth.

It took about thirty minutes, but its a safe route between friend’s houses without having to cross the busy main road. And I get to bore the children with wildlife trivia as we walk. Perfect.

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