It's almost two weeks since my last post. I left Sussex on the 6th May, spent three nights at Stamford in the south-west corner of Lincolnshire (but with a Cotswold feel), then moved on to Richmond in North Yorkshire for four nights. And four days ago I shifted to Berwick-Upon-Tweed.
In all that time, I've been out and about - mostly in good weather - and seen plenty of things that are blogworthy. Readers who look also at my Flickr site will have a sneak preview of what will illustrate posts yet to come. Why haven't I written and published those posts? Because of all the photos taken. I've taken 1,500-odd shots so far on this holiday, and processing them on my laptop has left no time for blogging. But I've made time tonight.
Today was a rather special day. The next big step in coming out of the national Covid-19 lockdown restrictions. After a gap of several months, one could get back inside a pub. Not that I'm much of a pub-goer. But now and then, when out during the day - and especially when on holiday - I will treat myself to lunch at a pub, gin and tonic included. But I'd had enough of the windy-garden experience. I wanted to be inside, out of the weather.
Where to go for this special event? Holy Island - not far from where I was pitched at Berwick - called to me. I've written about Holy Island before, based on my last visit in 2019. I may do another post on it, as I explored the island rather better today. But this post is chiefly about my pleasure at finally being able to sit in a nice pub.
I arrived at just after 10.00am. This was only half an hour after the tide had receded sufficiently to uncover the causeway that links Holy Island with the mainland, so the road was wet and fringed with seaweed, although perfectly safe to travel at speed on. According to the table I'd consulted, I'd have until 5.30pm to get off the island before the advancing tide covered the causeway again. I definitely wouldn't be staying that long. But it takes - so I was told - a full four hours to walk completely around the island, although presumably this is at a funeral pace, and includes the sand dunes at the western end. If you keep to the grassy bits, where sheep graze, three hours would surely be more than enough. As it was, I wouldn't be able to do even a short circumnavigation before noon (when the pub I had in mind opened), but I could still go much further around the coastal fringe than ever before. And I did. Over 10,000 steps worth.
It started off bright but cloudy. Here I am, pre-pub, making my way anticlockwise around the island's coastline, with Lindisfarne Castle in the background: