Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Tuesday, 28 January 2014

Northumberland: Berwick-upon-Tweed to Fenwick 24/6/2006


 

From Berwick quayside we walked across the bridge over the Tweed, with a large flock of swans beneath accompanying the odd eider duck and a few goosanders.  We walked on the south side of the estuary through Tweedmouth and its boatyards until we could leave the streets on the seafront at Spittal.  At the end of the beach a path and cycle-way rose up the low cliff to march beside the railway, where mainline expresses zoomed past.  The track entered a road along the coast at Cocklawburn – a farm and a couple of houses, where we encountered the auxiliary cowman who lived there.  He proudly showed us a young black bull.  He was apparently glad of a chance to talk to someone in this remote place, but he also gave a plug for his house that he was trying to sell!  The road here had been moved inland a little way because of cliff erosion.  At one point we could see the old tarmac way leading straight into the cliff edge and continuing on the other side of a large gulley.  The beach consisted of sand and rocks with a narrow line of degraded dunes that broadened as we progressed south.  At Cheswick there were a good many shells and some good dune-slacks with northern marsh orchids, bloody cranesbill, salad burnet, fairy flax, and, in one place each, early marsh and pyramidal orchids.  Most notable, however, were colonies of purple milk-vetch.  Eventually the dunes became overgrown with tall grass and unproductive, with the odd patch of pirri-pirri bur, the seed-heads looking at first glance like salad burnet flowers.  The beach became increasingly wide, despite it being close to high tide, and a party of horse-riders were enjoying it.  At the end of the road at Beachcomber House there was a camp-site, but we continued along the head of the beach until we reached an official footpath turning slightly inland, firmer under foot than loose sand.  Here we encountered lesser meadow-rue in full flower, the delicate blooms with long yellow stamens.  We soon found ourselves in less interesting fields, where it was a surprise when we came across a colony of field mouse-ear.  We crossed the river South Low by means of a sluice bridge, a new route incorporating the cycle-way. This thankfully replaced a wade through the river which, at this state of the tide, looked too deep to manage, and was patrolled by a pair of aggressive-looking swans.  Walking back to the coast on the south side of the river we were able to watch a sandwich tern fishing.  After rounding Beal Point we reached the road leading to the Lindisfarne causeway, still under water, with many carloads of people waiting for the tide to fall.  Crossing the road we joined the new St Cuthbert’s Way, which soon left the shoreline to cross fields and head uphill to Fenwick on the busy A1.  We took a diversion alongside the railway (a DEFRA “Conservation Route”) where we encountered a fox and saw wonderful displays of wild strawberries with bright red luscious fruits that we just had to sample.  Here also were hairy St. John’s-wort and small toadflax.  This led to the Fenham road and we went on up to Fenwick and the bus-stop for our journey back.  Within the glass-walled bus shelter was a recently-died sedge-warbler in immaculate plumage, presumably having flown into the glass.

 

 
 
Eider duck
 
Berwick from across the Tweed
 
 
Purple milk-vetch

 
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