Day 3: Sunday 5th July 2015

Sunday.

More north.

UP again at seven, with the sun beaming down outside, already casting strong shadows. This calls for a hearty breakfast, lots more coffee and then packing.

Jools is to drive the first leg up to Durham, where I hoped to see more orchids.

Sadly, the A1 is closed, so we have to take an alternative route, through Thirsk and northallerton before the sat nav realises that we know what we are doing, takes us round the edge of Middlesbrough to Darlington. It was at this point I see the sign pointing to the railway sculpture: I realise this must be the brick A4 dedicated to the LNER chief designer, Sir Nigel Gresley. We MUST go and see it.

Jools agrees, and after losing the route once, we find it again, and the signs take us to a faceless industrial estate, and behind a warehouse was a small car park. Leading up a bank was a path the statue: an A4 in full steam, coming out of a tunnel, all made of bricks. It was very good.

All around it, was a nature reserve, all full of wild flowers, including orchids and lots of butterflies. I get my shots and we walk back to the car, with just half an hour more to the old quarry.

After parking, I walk into the reserve, look over the fence expecting to see a sea of dark red helleborines. I see none. I cannot understand it, we were two weeks later than last year, they should be out.

After climbing down the steep steps, we get a closer look, and the spikes are there, still unfolding, yet to open. An even later season this year than last. I am now worried about our next port of call, as the orchids there will be late too.

I take shots of what is there, and three butterflies including the tiny Northern Argus.

I take over the driving, and we now have to get through Sunderland and Newcastle and then strike further north up the A1, the old Great North Road.

Traffic is heavy, not helped by roadworks, but we get through, cross the Tyne and go north, into Northumberland. For somewhere so north, the countryside is gentle and rolling, and all farmland. The sun is shining, and we are smiling, it is all wonderful.

Our destination is Lindisfarne, where we are booked into a hotel for the night, and with the tides, it means the village will empty as we arrive. Lindisfarne is an island, reached by a causeway, but for 5 hours out of every 12, the causeway is covered by the sea: we would be cut off.

We stop off for lunch at the hotel at the start of the road to the island: we had dined here last year, and the food was good. We ended up having roast beef, as it came with lots of fresh veg, which we both wanted.

Back onto the road, and down the gently sloping land to the start of the causeway, there is more traffic leaving than going our way. It does feel strange driving over the seabed, even if it is low tide. But we cross, and before going to the hotel, we stop off to look for the very rare, Lindisfarne Helleborine.

From last year, we know the site, but despite walking up and down for two hours, we see thousands and thousands of Marsh Helleborines, Northern Marsh, Common Spotted and a few Early Marsh still about. Back home the Early Marsh ended over a month ago, the Southern Marsh are now finishing, and the Helleborines will be over by the time we return.

We resolve to come back in the morning and try again.

We drive to the hotel, and having accommodation booked we can drive past the huge car park, go through the village to the hotel and park there. The reservation is good, and we have a room at the top of the hotel, I moan about the four flights of stairs, but that turns to amazement at the views: through the front window we overlook the harbour to the castle, built atop an old volcanic mount, and out the side window we overlook the graveyard of the old priory. It is fabulous.

We see the last of the stragglers of the day visitors hurrying back to their cars, and soon all is quiet, with just the seabirds songs filling the air.

Best we go for a walk I say.

Where to? Well, the hulks of old fishing boats have been turned into sheds for fishermen to work from, something with more than a hint of David Copperfield. It is a 5 minute walk, and we have the place to ourselves. I take my shots, then we walk along the single track road to the castle, some half a mile away.

The sun breaks through, and it turns into a most glorious evening. We walk to the castle gate, it is perfect, the only highpoint on the island, topped by an ancient castle. Last year the crowds deterred us from leaving the car park, now we have the place pretty much to ourselves. We do pass some locals, and some other visitors, they are as happy as we are, having the walk and views to ourselves.

We sit on a bench for half an hour to admire the view to the mainland, the seals on the beach about a mile away: I think I can just hear their barking being carried on the breeze.

We walk back to the village, and see that The Ship is open; we stay for supper: I have crawfish salad, and Jools has soup and a desert. We are stuffed, and tired.

Back in our room we sit in the window alcove and watch as the rain sweeps in, pouring down on the pub and land in front of us. It is better than any TV program. There is time for a shower and then bed; it has been a long day.