The next leg of my journey started in Alnmouth. The B&B was a small private house run by a resentful couple who moaned about prior guests…probably soon to be my fate. I left quite promptly.

From this point the Northumberland coastline is breath taking and mostly nature reserve. Fabulous unless your looking for man made structures so I headed down towards Blyth.

A little research tells me that Blyth means ‘gentle’ or ‘merry’ in old English….perfect. That certainly describes the day I had there.

It was obvious that the town had once been a hub of coastal activity and in recent times had suffered from the decline of industry. It was the beginning of the part of the coast that had a sad story to tell.

It had for centuries produced salt which Im reliably informed is still evident on the beaches although is hard to spot amongst the beautiful white sand.

Blyth shipyard built & launched HMS Arc Royal in 1914 and many others until it was closed in the 1960’s following the closure of the railway after the ‘beaching report’. ….still they had mining and steelworks right?

Blyth has come through it’s trials to triumph as a sea side resort. I can imagine how much effort it has taken to accomplish its transformation. Admittedly the sun had made an appearance and people were in a holiday mood. From here on in it was to take me a lot longer to walk, factoring in the chats to be had along the beach. 

The first thing to hit you about Blyth beach are the long line of wind turbines stretching out along the break water towards the open sea. Contrasting with these beautiful white air slicing monsters, a little lighthouse punctuates the end of the pier with a few hardy fisher men dangling off the end. 

The Blyth painting had to be manipulated quite dramatically to get in two breakwaters with one running along the horizon. Strangely enough I am surprised I got away with this and nobody to date has commented on the impossible perspective.