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

Tyne & Wear: Whitburn to Seaham 7/7/2006


 

"Indus Tree" Sunderland
 
Sainfoin
From Whitburn we walked the beach to the end at Parson’s Rocks and took the road over to the next beach at Roker, ending at the north pier of Sunderland harbour.  We were soon at the mouth of the River Wear, where we walked a new embankment of the refurbished marina with numerous art-works, including wall plaques telling stories written by local schoolchildren.  The riverside walkway continued, after a brief interruption, past the National Glass Centre and the University until we had to climb up the main road to cross the first bridge over the Wear.  We then followed the south bank of the river, but now via dirty back roads by the docks and through a long commercial area covered in litter and dust.  We were relieved when a side road curved under a railway bridge to the beach, even though this was covered by the sea and we had to use the concrete “Hendon Promenade” which led by a line of strange crumbly cliffs looking like stratified tufa underneath glacial till.  The promenade ended at Salterfen Rocks and we had to walk back to a lower section of cliffs to climb the bank to a track along the top.  At first this was a rubbish tip with various spoil heaps around, but this gradually developed into endless wasteland with sainfoin, linnets and clouds of little black pollen beetles Meligethes aeneus continually landing on us.  This continued across a steep valley ending in a little pier.  Another kilometre further on it became impossible to trace the public footpath after another stream cut through the cliffs, so we had to take a path up to the road earlier than intended.  Half a kilometre along here we came to the end of a long cornfield and gained access again to the cliff top wasteland by going under a barbed wire fence, but the path was still difficult to follow.  At the next stream the path was visible again.   We climbed down to the beach and walked along to Seaham, coming up to the usual concrete promenade, then up steps to the road and Seaham Harbour.  Here we found a tea shop, but it had closed down.  A couple of locals directed us to a new one in Church Street, where we got good coffee and cakes, our first food since breakfast and now gone 4pm.  The people here are invariably friendly, often offering to help before you ask.  After a long fruitless wait at a bus-stop we eventually found out that the timetabled bus was cancelled because of road changes further north; fortunately a lady who lived nearby came out of her house to tell us and she directed us to the bus station – back in Church Street!  Here we found a taxi rank and could not resist hiring Trev’s Taxi to avoid another long wait for a bus.
Sunderland Harbour

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