Dunsdale, between Redcar and Guisborough

So, last time I wrote up the blog properly 4 days ago we were camping at Belford, enjoying the hot weather, ice lollies and cold drinks. Yesterday afternoon saw us shivering, cold and very wet as we cycled up the longish steepish hill towards Dunsdale where Clive Teare lives - nearly made it to the top of the hill but the road narrowed a little and as it was getting towards rush hour time there was a lot of fast moving traffic both ways on the road - and we tend to wobble even more than normal at the top of a climb!! -so pushed the bikes the last little way for safety. Very generously as he left for Amsterdam earlier in the day, Clive had left his key with his next door neighbour and given us the run of the house, and joy of joys - a bath with lots of hot water. Celebrated with the longest bath in history- hadn't realised just how cold I'd got in my cycling shorts (not Lycra you'll be very glad to hear) in the rain this afternoon. After a cool overcast day yesterday it was really cold again last night but were fooled this morning as we woke to the warmth of a blue sky and sunshine - lovely while it lasted. Obviously most people had been fooled by it as well as this afternoon virtually everyone we saw walking or cycling in the cold and the rain had short sleeved warm weather summer clothes on with no coats on, getting soaked through. At least we had our yellow waterproof coats on - but still felt very cold. Not helped by the fact that we'd decided to leave the North Sea route cycle trail,and instead of going inland from Hartlepool towards Stockton On Tees and from there over the river Tees and into Middlesbrough, we would follow the coast road and go over the river via the transporter bridge - one of only three still working in the UK (others at Gwent and Warrington), and of the twenty originally built worldwide between the late 1800s and early 1900's (many of these are no longer in existence) that takes you straight into Middlesbrough itself. Would have been a good plan if the bridge had been open - but it wasn't - and thats when the rain started in ernest. Meant an extra 6 miles to cycle up river to the first 'proper' bridge and back down the other side - cycling right past the other end of the transporter bridge in the pouring rain. No idea why it was shut - no indication on the web site that it's shut - can even see a live web cam shot of the bridge http://www.bbc.co.uk/tees/webcams/transporter.shtml should you want to!! Known as the Tranny or Transporter, it is a Grade 2 listed building.

So, back to Belford. Left bright and early, a coolish start to the day and a low lying mist -as we cycled down to the castle at Bamburgh the towers were hidden in the mist. As it was Sunday morning, the day after a beautiful hot Saturday the roads were very busy - too cool and overcast for the beach, so lets all go for a drive, and lets go to the castle. Followed the coast road rather than the back lanes to Seahouses - a very busy little place for 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning. and then along to Crastor, past the camp site at Durstan where we camped many years go andhad a lovely days walking along the costal path to the ruined Dunstanburgh Castle. Stopped for lunch where the road we were cycling on touched the coastal path (doesn't happen very often along this stretch) and sat having our butties overlooking the sea and rocks below -till the mist rolled in and obliterated the view seawards. There was a steady flow of people walking along the coastal path - to be honest the only way to appreciate the coastline of this part of the world properly is by foot as the roads tend to stay inland, with not many opportunities to look out to the sea, other than where villages have sprung up around harbours. There was a Sunday family cycle event being held, called Michelle's Ride 2010, a fund raiser for the Sir Bobby Robson Foundation (clinical trials of new cancer drugs) and Sustrans (the UK’s leading sustainable transport charity, delivering practical projects to encourage people to travel in ways that benefit their health and the environment). We're using Sustrans routes and maps as we cycle down through Scotland and England. Great to see so many people, and families joining in the event - they could cycle a 5 mile, 20 mile or a 40 mile route. Most cycling faster than us of course, loaded down as we are - but fortunately most were going the opposite way to begin with at least - on their way north to Craster (the 40 mile route). Later on as we got south of Alnmouth we started to overtake some of the family groups with young children. Would have been better though if 5 minutes after Roger hadn't taken a nasty tumble of his bike when he skidded on gravel as we crossed over a farm track across the cycleway. Were inspecting the bleeding grazed wound on his arm as they all re-overtook us again. First time had to get the first aid kit out - have lots of larger dressings for grazes - as from experience I know normal plasters aren't much use for the wounds you get when you come off your bike. In the nicest of ways, it's a nice change for it not to be me that was being patched up - but no doubt I will get my cumuppence by the end of the trip!!

Roger was really, really grumpy after the fall - mumbling '...stupid trip etc' and glaring away at me - was all my fault because I wanted to so this trip etc. The sun was back out now and it was getting hot, only about 3 or so but as there was a campsite marked on the map about 100 yards from where he had fallen off on the outskirts of Warkworth, I thought it was wise to stop for the day. No sign for the campsite but went past a large back garden with caravans in it - so went in and found the house, Ok to stay but was a site where people left smallish tourer vans and visited at weekends, or for a couple of weeks a year for their holidays. Normally not many people there the owner said but because the wether was so nice and it was Sunday - most people were up at the caravans for the weekend. Felt bit bad putting the tent up in a small space near to a caravan with people sat outside - they had to move their car for us - but they had gone by early evening. Very hot in the sun but freezing in the shade - no happy in between. A few hours behind us a lad we had seen arriving with a group of cycle campers who had cycled from Newcastle to Edinburgh when we were at the campsite in Edinburgh arrived at the campsite. He'd left a day after us- the rest of the group had been piked up by car but he was cycling home to Leicester. Like us, he is discovering that the number of places available to camp between here and the other side of Teeside is relatively limited - what is around only tend to take caravans now when I did my research prior to the trip. Not sure where everyone who owns a tent is going to camp in the future the way it seems to be going - campsites seem to be becoming a bit of a dinosaur in many parts of the country - the money seems to be in going more up market and catering for residential caravans and a better class of facilities.

Once we'd stopped and got the tent up, and had tea Roger seemed back to his normal happy self once again. A lovely evening, and the first time of the trip we actually felt like we had enough energy and willpower to go for a bit of a walk (!!) - so walked along the road a bit and then across the dunes to the sea - a perfect end to the day.

Next day, overcast and cooler all day - much better cycling weather - kept close to the sea for much of the morning and stopped for some thing to eat outside a cafe in Newbiggin-by-the-sea. Called 'Bellybusters' - loved the name. Difficult bit of navigating after this - lost half an hour or so and a few miles while we sorted ourselves out before a painless cycle through well signposted backstreets of Blyth. Certainly this part of the trip has seen us passing many ex mining villages and memorials to disused or disappeared collieries. Some of them have a real 'end of the world' feel to them. There seem to an awful lot of horses in the area - many of them tethered on bits of grass and fields all over the place.

Once past Blyth we reached the sea front and stopped for a toilet stop and an ice cream for Sue, then were looking at the done up (at great lottery funding expense) coastal defence buildings here when the cycle camper from Edinburgh and Walkworth turned up - amazed us as he'd left before us in the morning so expected him to be way in front of us - but he was having problems with his front wheel, so after a chat he set off in front of us again on his way to Newcastle to hopefully get to a cycle shop there before it shut for the day - and at the same time as this another cyclist started talking to Roger - he'd just cycled from Penrith and was on his way home to Tynemouth.

I loved the cycle down from Blyth to Tynemouth - all along the seafront. Seaton Sluice was an interesting place (photo) - a quiet backwater of a place now but in the past was an important harbour for the shipment of coal, with major work done to improve the loading of ships. I thought Tynemouth would be full of disused shipworks and a bit of an eyesore - how wrong could I be. Lovely beaches, no industry to be seen, looks like a gentrified version of Blackpool or better. Even has a castle and a priory on the corner between the coast and the Tyne river mouth. It would seem that three kings were buried here - King Oswin, 651 AD - rather than have his soldiers butchered in battle he sent them home and gave himself up instead and was murdered; King Osred 792 AD, betrayed by his nobles when king and became a monk in York, tried to regain the throne but was again betrayed and put to death on the orders of King 'Butcher' Ethelred; and King Malcolm of Scotland 1093 AD who used to raid Northumberland regularly - he was killed along with 3000 Scots near Alnwick but buried here at Tynemouth. It is because of these three kings that the coat of arms for Tynemouth has three crowns on it. Roger was joined by a guy on a mountain bike who chattered away to him for a couple of miles or more, swapping life stories. Certainly everyone is very friendly here, and there are so many cyclists and runners, every where you look. I loved this stretch of coast - such a pleasant surprise

As we'd had a good days cycling, it was a lovely afternoon, and there was the chance of a campsite south of the river Tynes, we decided we would not follow the river west up to the city of Newcastle and the bridges across the river, but instead we'd get the pedestrian/cycle ferry that goes from about a mile up river across to South Shields. Arrived just as the 'Pride of Tyne' was discharging passengers from a trip over from the opposite side so didn't take long to get over to the other side of the river - so fortune was with us for once as it only runs every 30 minutes. There has been a ferry here since the 1300's.

A large Asda on the other side so as I'd runout of books to read once again called in for '2 books for £7' and some food for tea. Remembered that I had the phone number for the campsite on the map- so rang and they said that 'No, they didn't take tents' - was a service company rather than the actual site itself. Decided that we would cycle to the outskirts of Sunderland, further south down the coast and stay at the B and B place where my friend Debs and me had stayed last year when we cycled the Coast to Coast from Whitehaven to Sunderland.

Cycled along the prom, along the last mile or so of the Newcastle BUPA half marathon route that Debs and I ran 18 months ago- past the spot on the grass where I collapsed in a heap in the cold sea breeze for an hour at the end feeling dreadful - was Ok for the first 8 miles - we were running well - but a dodgy Lasagna at pub in Haltwhistle the night before caught up with me then was lucky to get to the finish- was ill for a couple of days after this - and very glad Debs was with me and that Roger was there to meet us to get me back to the car- we'd left it at the airport Metro and taken the Metro into the centre of Newcastle for the start of the race - so had to get back there from the finish at South Shields - a slow bus journey followed by the Metro - with me looking and feeling like a bag lady. Anyway - wasn't aware of it at the time but the last mile is slightly downhill all the way which is good!!! - realised this as we pedaled the opposite way slightly uphill on the bikes.

Went past the caravan site that we'd hoped to camp at - but Roger noticed that it had a tent symbol on the sign - so thought he would see if they really didn't take tents - I thought it would be a waste of time - but yes, they said we could camp there - in between the caravans once again like the night before- but as it was Monday now most were empty once again. Not sure how much longer you will be allowed to camp here though as being done up and looks as though the older caravans will soon get their arching orders and larger, posher residential caravans with a whole raft of new rules (posted on the back of the refurbished toilet block doors) due to come into force. There was no sign on the toilet block as to which was the ladies and which was the mens - Roger went first so found which ones had the urinals in, so I went to the other one. The few other people on the campsite were equally as confused so a bloke walked into the ladies as I was cleaning my teeth later that evening. I mention this to put into context a small incident the next morning when I went to have shower. I was taking advantage of the mirror in the changing area bit of the shower area to look at the very strange tan I'm acquiring - brown arms that start just above the elbows and stop at my wrist where my cycle gloves start,a small brown keyhole on the back of my hand from the gloves, and then brown fingers from the knuckles downwards as the gloves are half fingered ones. Then exceedingly brown knees down to sock level - and white thighs,and a very brown face and neck - with a white spectacles shaped area. My ears have nearly stopped scabbing now - the scabs are peeling away nicely!!

Just to remind you that a couple of weeks before we went away (and before we knew we would be going so soon) I had a rather disastrous trip to the hairdressers. Tony, my usual hairdresser has just retired - I'm used to sitting there gassing away with him catching up with all the local gossip while he snips away - all done and dusted in a very quick time- and all is well. Did the same with the new lass, and didn't bother looking in the mirror too hard (no glasses on so can't see that well anyway) - and was only when she got the clippers out and shaved the back of my neck I realised something wasn't right - boy had she cut it short..... In the end was quite useful because we decided to come away, so will last a decent length of time before needing cutting again. I usually need it cutting every 5 weeks - well it's now over 7 weeks since I had this hair cut and it's probably about the length it normally is when I've just had it cut.

Back to the toilets - I had my knickers and a t-shirt on so was decent, but heard the door to the loos open so stepped into the shower behind me, so the woman coming in only saw the back of me. 'This is the ladies toilet you know' she said to me in a very accusing tone of voice. I wasn't sure what she said so said back 'This IS the ladies isn't it?' 'Yes it is' said the lady, again in a tone of voice that said - 'What are you doing here if you know it's the ladies?'. So I then had to say the immortal words - 'I am a lady you know.....' - to which she had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but I'm still not convinced she totally believed me.....

Add to that, yesterday as we were cycling along in the rain in our yellow coats a bloke shouted encouragement out to us - 'Keep it up Lads' - I'm getting a bit of a complex here.....

Where we were camped (Marsden, just south of South Shields) was OK spot I suppose - but according to the guy at the campsite was an excellent view out over the sea and overlooking South Shields - well he probably ought to get out a bit more..... As we were packing up the next morning Roger noticed by where we had been camped what looked like a giant earthworm (photo) - but to be honest it didn't move like a worm - and didn't burrow into the ground like one - but instead slithered and 'S'ed its way like a snake does- but didn't look any snake I've ever seen before - so if anyone has any idea what it was let me know. Thinking about it, it probably was a slow worm - not seen one I don't think before.

A relatively uneventful day cycling down through Sunderland and south towards Hartlepool. Breakfast in Morrisons's Supermarket while I sent an email to Clive as no reception at the campsite the night before - was about the excitement for the day. Interesting cycling inland along the river Wear at Sunderland for a mile or so until we crossed the bridge over the river to the south side - I had cycled the opposite way along it at the end of our Coast to Coast ride last year with Debs- (was raining and miserable then - in deed thick fog the day after when Roger came to pick us up and the foghorn had been sounding all night).

Route finding a bit difficult later on in the day and starting to get cold. So very glad when we actually found the one and only campsite in the area that allows tents - only fault was it was in the distance on the opposite side of the main railway line - with a steep footbridge over - luckily with a groove for the wheels to go in - but still very hard work with the heavy bikes. A very basic campsite - but a lovely spot in a small garden. Had finished tea and reading our books when who should arrive but our friend from the Edinburgh campsite - about time we learnt his name - Kumeran, from Sri Lanka originally. He'd stayed at the youth hostel in Newcastle the night before, and managed to get his front wheel sorted this morning - needed new bearings. Didn't leave till 1 o'clock so had made good time to get here - amazing that he found the place as well as quite well hidden. He needs to be back in Leicester by the weekend - hoping to get home by Saturday so can have a rest day before back to work on Monday. Noticed in Edinburgh that Kumeran had a pair of bright orange Crocs ('leisure' time or non-cycle shoes) - similar to the more muted colours of mine and Rogers that we are also carrying with us.

I'd spoken to Clive and his next door neighbour and arranged to pick up the key to the house sometime after 4pm. So as under 30 miles (but in the end did the exra 6 miles due to the transporter bridge being shut)we weren't in any great rush to get going today. It had been really cold overnight, but couldn't believe it when woke up to beautiful warm sunshine - wonderful and luxurious.

Stopped at Morrisons in Hartlepool to get some bread, but decided we'd have a cooked breakfast once again - going to have to stop this before it gets to be a habit...., met up with a woman who was very interested in our trip and who actually had heard about the North Sea route, and lived on the route to the south of the town, very friendly and chatty so gave her the blog details and if you are reading this - hi there.

Could have spent ages relaxing in the cafe but decided to spend a couple of hours at the Historic Quayside and museum at Hartlepool. Really excellent museum - very informative summaries of the different periods of history. There is Hartlepool connection of sorts in my family history - wait for it - my great grandmother (maternal side) was married three times. Her first husband died of TB on his way to Quebec to meet up with my great grandmother and her two young children who had travelled out there by ship a month before with his brother and wife. They came back to Liverpool, where my great grandmother got married once again to a Catholic barman called Shortsinger, who was a lodger in her house, along with her brother who was also a barman. She had three more children to this husband - one died aged before he was a year old, another (Joe) drowned when the Express of Ireland ship sank in the St Lawrence Seaway in Canada in 1914 (the greatest maritime disaster in Canadian history) - not long after the Titanic went down and with more loss of life - he was a young steward at the time. It was an old black and white postcard type photo I came across in my mum's photos of a group of stewards in front of the Empress of Ireland that got me interested in researching my family history over the winter. It's only recently that I've realised that one of the stewards on the postcard is Joe himself. The third child of this second marriage was a girl,who married someone called Harry Box - they had no children and both were dead from TB by the mid 1930's. The second husband, Shortsinger - his father was a head constable in Belfast according to his marriage certificate - was committed to the mental asylum in St Helens (where they sent them from Liverpool) and died from TB there. I didn't realise until now that there is a relationship between insanity and TB. Just before I came away I found a site called the Blacksheep Site - a list of people's names who are mentioned in newspaper cuttings etc for various (good and bad) reasons - and he is mentioned on this list - couldn't get the details on-line - you have to send away for them with an old fashioned cheque payment - so left this to my brother to do - any news as yet Derek about this? On the death certificate it says he was born in Baden, Germany - but I think he was probably born in the Belfast area to German parents who had come over from the Baden area. Again, just before I left I had just made the connection between a watchmaker (Shortsinger) in early 1900's Belfast (not a common name) and the more german version of the name -Scherzinger and also a connection with Beringer - all watchmakers. A couple of families within the UK in the 1911 census - again all watchmakers. Look forward to researching this again next winter when back from this trip. The Scherzingers/Shortsingers are buried in the Falls Road Cemetery in Belfast - where the hunger strikers are also buried. His father, the head constable of Belfast had renamed himself as Singer rather than Shortsinger. Lewis Hamilton went out with/ is still going out with Nichole Scherzinger - who is in Pussycat Dolls - played in Belfast so if put Scherzinger and Belfast in, get loads of hits for her. Interestingly her ancestry is reported to be 1/2 Filipino, 1/4 Russian and 1/4 Hawaiian - born in Hawaii and brought up in Kentucky (!!!!) Just looked it up - the surname might come from her step father??

After Shortsinger died in the asylum my great grandmother then got married once again for the third time to Thomas Francis Reilly, a dock worker. Her last child, my grandmother was born shortly after, and I can find nothing much else about him out at the moment - he just disappears off the scene. My grandmother and great grandmother were in service together in the Todmorden area following this - and were involved in a car accident according to my aunt - ?something to do with the brakes??? - and they had to do a moonlight flit at some point.

Anyway the Hartlepool connection is with the first child, Edith, born to my great grandmother - a half sister to my grandmother - i.e. same mother, different fathers. Edith was in service on the Wirral and met and married a guy from Hartlepool who was something to do with marine engines and was visiting the Camel Laird dockyards in Birkenhead at the time - and she married and moved to Hartlepool for a while. We have some 1914 Liverpool newspapers (unfortunately falling to bit now) which were posted to a Hartlepool address (presumably to Edith) that tell the story at the time about the sinking of the Empress of Ireland - with her half brother Joe on board. What amazes me the most about these newspapers is that it is only 6 weeks before Word War One started and there is absolutely nothing to indicate any problems at all of this nature - indeed the TUC or similar (from memory) are reported as having a meeting where their German counterparts have been invited to speak at the meeting.

So, found it very interesting to goto the museum at Hartlepool and get a feel for the town - it used to be an incredibly important ship building place.

I didn't realise that when William conquered us in 1066 it took 40 years to sort out the north of Britain and bring it under their control- leaving no village inhabited between York and Durham due to either famine or fighting. A family that had come over with William and fought with him - the Brus family - were rewarded land in North Yorkshire and where Hartlepool is now. They built the town up an it became the gateway for merchants on their way to Durham. It was also used as a staging post when fighting the Scots, and due to being invaded and fought over became the most strongly fortified port in the north east. Following the black death of the 1300's Hartlepool went into decline when Newcastle gained the monopoly for selling wool and the right to collect taxes from Hartlepool. It was a Royalist stronghold in the Civil War, but brought into line by the help of a Scottish army at the bequest of the Government - it is reputed that the Royalist soldiers left without firing a shot. Hartlepool was a Scottish garrison town for three years after this. By the 1800s fishing had become important to the town, rich merchants were starting to retire here and also Hartlepool was becoming a holiday resort destination. With the coming of the railways to rival railway companies built two different ports about half a mile apart at Hartlepool - the Old of the East Docks and the West Docks. Both companies spent about £1.5 million each - at a time when a servant would earn £10 a year and a luxury house would cost £1,000.

There is a Monkey legend - that a French ship was wrecked by a storm at Hartlepool and the only survivor was a monkey. Mistaking it for a Frenchman it was hung by local people as a spy. This is reputed to be a legend that has grown up from the music hall tradition. Despite this, H'Angus the Monkey is the mascot for the football team and much loved by the locals. As we went past the ground of the local football team I noticed it as sponsored by Tescos - quite a smart move as next door was Morrisons, and over the road (only saw it later)was Asda - and no actual Tesco store in sight.

I'd forgotten that Hartlepool (plus Scarborough and Whitby) was where the first casualties of the first world war happened - 16th December 1914 - they were attacked by three German warships, following a defeat by the Germans at the hands of the British Navy in the South Atlantic - the Germans wanted some good news for their people to counterweight their defeat, and also hoped that the attack would make the British public against carrying on with the war. All three British coastal towns were within a days travel of the German naval base at Heligoland - which in itself is another interesting story but I'll leave that for now until we get to that area later in our trip. Over 100 people were killed that day.

By the by, learnt that in the 16th Century Rodrigo de Jerez was the first recorded European smoker - people thought he was possessed by the devil as he had smoke coming out of his mouth, and led to him being imprisoned by the Spanish inquisition for 7 years.

They also have a couple of ships at the port- the PSS (Paddleship steamer) Wingfield Castle which used to be the ferry boat across the Humber before the bridge was built. Didn't get to look round the second one, the HMS Trincomalee

as had to pay £7.50 each for the pleasure and time was moving on. Amazing really, following our conversation with our friend Kumaran at the campsite earlier in the day - he was from Sri Lanka, the old name for Ceylon, and Trincomalee is a deep water port on the east of the island. (Roger knew this from his dad visiting there on a ship during the war). The ship itself is the oldest British frigate of her era (Napoleonic) still afloat.

Well, as you can see, we spent a fair bit of time at the museum - but time was getting on so set off to cycle to Clives via the transporter bridge - and then along past the Middlesborough football club, and the very fancy new huge piece of sculpture they are erecting nearby - looks like a circular concentina of wire that has been drawn apart with the middle being quite narrow still. Too wet and miserable for a photo to show you what I mean - which just about brings us up to date.

Took very little persuasion from either of us to decide to stay an extra day here at Clive's - a real luxury - we owe you plenty for this Clive - a bottle or two of wine at the next university reunion at the very least I think. Clive is getting his bottom measured over in Amsterdam, lucky fellow - for a custom made bicycle seat. He and his girlfriend Aafke are cycling along the Rhine next month - we followed their planned route three years go when we cycled to the Black Sea - down the Rhine, and along the Danube.

Roger has just cycled into Guisborough and back to get some goodies to eat while I write this blog - arrived back and feeding me treats and cups of tea now. Another load of washing to do, another bath to have and another evening lazing on a comfy chair and sleeping in a soft bed .....