Tony Hooker
Bernard Brindley
Godfrey Potter
Eddie Cornes
Philip Barnes
Carole Dockett
Liz Scrivens
Charles Barraball
Rob Maskell
Antonio Coelo
Coast-to-coast and Hadrian’s Wall 18-22 May 2009
Tony H was the leader of the 10 strong group which happily completed the trans-Pennine coast-to-coast from Silloth, Cumbria to Newcastle, Northumberland.
Monday morning we made our way to Carlisle via Euston, limited to 4 bikes at a time on the tilting Pendolino service operated by Virgin; their boarding information could have been more timely and informative. Trains ran every hour; Godfrey and Charles, unbeknown to each other, were booked on the 09:30; Antonio was early for his, and just saw us trying not to miss our train and not to be mown down by luggage-trundling passengers rushing to board in the five minutes given. Our bikes were first on, and the cramped space off the central crew passage to the driver's cab was barely sufficient for 3, let alone the 4 reserve-able. All panniers had to be removed, and carried to a coach. Fortunately we found adjacent seats in the first carriage we came to - not the separate ones we had reserved.
We didn't have to change, unlike poor Antonio at Crew, & he caught up with us after our lunch at an unexceptional Carlisle restaurant an hour later, having already eaten on his train. The three of us set off for Silloth on the west coast after his quickly gulped coffee.
The dis-continuity of Sustrans' signage caused us several delays as we made our first acquaintances with the landscape of Cumbria. Stretches were rather ill-maintained, and after Antonio was nearly goosed by a gander we eventually found that Liz's later-departing group, Liz, Carole, Eddie and Tony, had put their faith in A and B roads initially, and had arrived at the Golf Hotel before us!
Our first meal together was very enjoyable, eased by the perhaps slightly nervous question of who
was sharing twin-bedded rooms with whom, having been answered earlier. The bikes having been locked up with electric caddies in the cellar, we slept the sleep of tired travellers in rather tired accommodation.
Tuesday after a sufficient breakfast we trusted our panniers to a taxi organized seamlessly by TH. And set off to enjoy the West-East version of the previous day. The flatlands of the estuary made for easy riding, and a late elevenses was enjoyed in a little village facility; self-service, it was grant funded and eco-friendly. It made us realize how vulnerable isolated areas can be. We spent the night at the Oakwood Park Hotel, Brampton, a real Country Life establishment of decaying red sandstone, in a beautiful setting; rather disconcertingly there was a mix-up, and some slept 3-in-a-bedroom, with put-u-ups and convertible sofas. We could have eaten in, but thought we would fare more flexibly in a pub, and a cab was arranged. Brampton is a picture-postcard town and we were well-fed at the White Lion, but eschewed the no-limit poker game. Three of us waited for the cab back, but the rest of the flock walked and reached the hotel before us. Some were amused by the dog herding the ducks; Rob was less enthused by the cockerels next morning, but a wonderful breakfast soothed all.
Wednesday was the hilly day, up and over the Pennines and the strain proved too much for one rear wheel; rather past its best, play in the bearings and a touring tyre rubbed relentlessly against Rob's frame. Some gruelling climbs took us up in the rain to two Roman Forts for elevenses; Bernard having gone on slightly ahead, had a film show to himself at the second. After that we set off over hills and valleys in a vain chase for Bernard and lunch. Only then did we learn that Bernard was now behind us, while Rob decided his wheel had had it, and stuck to the major roads, and caught a train. After an incredibly exalting, long, long descent we found a pub, near an abandoned railway station where we had a rather good lunch, and the very young barman, noting our ages, chose an extremely good 60’s tape to play, which immediately threw some of our group into a ‘name that tune and band/singer’ along with a taste of karaoke - and Bernard finally caught us up. On, on, up the hills and over the valleys and into Hexham. Our hotel for the night was very basic, with lino on the floor, so we walked up into the town and ate famously at a place Rob had sourced, having popped to the bike shop earlier. Walking down the lane to bed seemed somehow different, the meal and medieval street plan combining in a slightly disconcerting yet comfortable way. A basic breakfast was provided.
Thursday we set off for the bike shop; we could have spent the day there – and a fortune, though Rob was pleased with his bill. Our ride though was to the end of the Wall, lunch at a home-from-home Weatherspoons, and then Whitley Bay, after crossing the River Tyne twice, once underneath through a pedestrian tunnel on our way to South Shields, and then the second time crossing the river by ferry.
The countryside was very pleasant and Tyneside has splendid paths for cyclists. It was sobering to see so much not happening in factories and on building sites. As we sat in three-star splendour in our hotel we could see that for the young there is not much to do except under-dress and over-drink. Our bikes were safely locked in the conference room, and we each had our own vast bedrooms at last! Breakfast was pretty good, too, with locally caught (we hoped) fish on the menu.
Friday we revisited Wallsend and the former Swan and Hunter Shipbuilders' canteen, now a Museum with café. It tells the story of the Romans, and Tyneside and its settlements, before and since. We then went to Newcastle via the “eyelid” and swing bridges and a return to the quayside Weatherspoons, while BB took in an art gallery. Each awaited allotted slots in the National Express toast rack from Newcastle Station; this time there were 6 berths and, using an outer one, I was able to leave panniers clipped on – but little time was allowed to secure the bike in place and join the crowded carriages.
Congratulations, and thanks, to Tony Hooker for organising it all, especially the luggage transfers. Respect to AC, who carried his panniers everyday except Wednesday. And thanks to all for enjoyable companionship. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and were blessed with sunshine most of the time, only one heavy shower on Wednesday morning. Many thanks, Tony, we are now looking forward to next year's trip!
Charles and Carole
Bernard Brindley
Godfrey Potter
Eddie Cornes
Philip Barnes
Carole Dockett
Liz Scrivens
Charles Barraball
Rob Maskell
Antonio Coelo
Coast-to-coast and Hadrian’s Wall 18-22 May 2009
Tony H was the leader of the 10 strong group which happily completed the trans-Pennine coast-to-coast from Silloth, Cumbria to Newcastle, Northumberland.
Monday morning we made our way to Carlisle via Euston, limited to 4 bikes at a time on the tilting Pendolino service operated by Virgin; their boarding information could have been more timely and informative. Trains ran every hour; Godfrey and Charles, unbeknown to each other, were booked on the 09:30; Antonio was early for his, and just saw us trying not to miss our train and not to be mown down by luggage-trundling passengers rushing to board in the five minutes given. Our bikes were first on, and the cramped space off the central crew passage to the driver's cab was barely sufficient for 3, let alone the 4 reserve-able. All panniers had to be removed, and carried to a coach. Fortunately we found adjacent seats in the first carriage we came to - not the separate ones we had reserved.
We didn't have to change, unlike poor Antonio at Crew, & he caught up with us after our lunch at an unexceptional Carlisle restaurant an hour later, having already eaten on his train. The three of us set off for Silloth on the west coast after his quickly gulped coffee.
The dis-continuity of Sustrans' signage caused us several delays as we made our first acquaintances with the landscape of Cumbria. Stretches were rather ill-maintained, and after Antonio was nearly goosed by a gander we eventually found that Liz's later-departing group, Liz, Carole, Eddie and Tony, had put their faith in A and B roads initially, and had arrived at the Golf Hotel before us!
Our first meal together was very enjoyable, eased by the perhaps slightly nervous question of who
was sharing twin-bedded rooms with whom, having been answered earlier. The bikes having been locked up with electric caddies in the cellar, we slept the sleep of tired travellers in rather tired accommodation.
Tuesday after a sufficient breakfast we trusted our panniers to a taxi organized seamlessly by TH. And set off to enjoy the West-East version of the previous day. The flatlands of the estuary made for easy riding, and a late elevenses was enjoyed in a little village facility; self-service, it was grant funded and eco-friendly. It made us realize how vulnerable isolated areas can be. We spent the night at the Oakwood Park Hotel, Brampton, a real Country Life establishment of decaying red sandstone, in a beautiful setting; rather disconcertingly there was a mix-up, and some slept 3-in-a-bedroom, with put-u-ups and convertible sofas. We could have eaten in, but thought we would fare more flexibly in a pub, and a cab was arranged. Brampton is a picture-postcard town and we were well-fed at the White Lion, but eschewed the no-limit poker game. Three of us waited for the cab back, but the rest of the flock walked and reached the hotel before us. Some were amused by the dog herding the ducks; Rob was less enthused by the cockerels next morning, but a wonderful breakfast soothed all.
Wednesday was the hilly day, up and over the Pennines and the strain proved too much for one rear wheel; rather past its best, play in the bearings and a touring tyre rubbed relentlessly against Rob's frame. Some gruelling climbs took us up in the rain to two Roman Forts for elevenses; Bernard having gone on slightly ahead, had a film show to himself at the second. After that we set off over hills and valleys in a vain chase for Bernard and lunch. Only then did we learn that Bernard was now behind us, while Rob decided his wheel had had it, and stuck to the major roads, and caught a train. After an incredibly exalting, long, long descent we found a pub, near an abandoned railway station where we had a rather good lunch, and the very young barman, noting our ages, chose an extremely good 60’s tape to play, which immediately threw some of our group into a ‘name that tune and band/singer’ along with a taste of karaoke - and Bernard finally caught us up. On, on, up the hills and over the valleys and into Hexham. Our hotel for the night was very basic, with lino on the floor, so we walked up into the town and ate famously at a place Rob had sourced, having popped to the bike shop earlier. Walking down the lane to bed seemed somehow different, the meal and medieval street plan combining in a slightly disconcerting yet comfortable way. A basic breakfast was provided.
Thursday we set off for the bike shop; we could have spent the day there – and a fortune, though Rob was pleased with his bill. Our ride though was to the end of the Wall, lunch at a home-from-home Weatherspoons, and then Whitley Bay, after crossing the River Tyne twice, once underneath through a pedestrian tunnel on our way to South Shields, and then the second time crossing the river by ferry.
The countryside was very pleasant and Tyneside has splendid paths for cyclists. It was sobering to see so much not happening in factories and on building sites. As we sat in three-star splendour in our hotel we could see that for the young there is not much to do except under-dress and over-drink. Our bikes were safely locked in the conference room, and we each had our own vast bedrooms at last! Breakfast was pretty good, too, with locally caught (we hoped) fish on the menu.
Friday we revisited Wallsend and the former Swan and Hunter Shipbuilders' canteen, now a Museum with café. It tells the story of the Romans, and Tyneside and its settlements, before and since. We then went to Newcastle via the “eyelid” and swing bridges and a return to the quayside Weatherspoons, while BB took in an art gallery. Each awaited allotted slots in the National Express toast rack from Newcastle Station; this time there were 6 berths and, using an outer one, I was able to leave panniers clipped on – but little time was allowed to secure the bike in place and join the crowded carriages.
Congratulations, and thanks, to Tony Hooker for organising it all, especially the luggage transfers. Respect to AC, who carried his panniers everyday except Wednesday. And thanks to all for enjoyable companionship. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and were blessed with sunshine most of the time, only one heavy shower on Wednesday morning. Many thanks, Tony, we are now looking forward to next year's trip!
Charles and Carole
3 comments:
C&C
Thank you for a most enjoyable and entertaining narrative on your C to C. Have you any illustrations?
Congrats on the ride and the report.
Jeff
This is an excellent blog post; I think there’s some excellent information here.
Just a small piece of advice, if your looking for accommodation in the Whitley Bay area, then Take a look at this website, it lists 100s of hotels and bed and breakfasts. I’ve used it lots of times and it always seems to deliver.
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