29 May - 1 June 2019

On this stage of our journey, we rode through landscapes that epitomize Northumbria’s deep connections to its rivers and the ocean. Here EuroVelo Route 12 stays close to the North Sea. It passes through dozens of coastal hamlets, as well as the industrial cities that have grown up along the banks of the region’s major rivers: the Tees, the Wear, the Tyne and the Blyth. In between, the trail rolls up and down grassy sand dunes that border shallow marshlands. But don’t expect it all to be smooth and flat. With the recent rain, the dirt sections of the trail were rutted and muddy, keeping us focused on where to aim our wheels. And every once in a while, just to make sure we don’t lose our climbing legs, the route would leave the low, rolling dunes to launch up a steep cliff face, for a panoramic ride along the bluffs overlooking the sea.

Middlesbrough to Sunderland (29 May 2019, 60.3 km, 37.5 mi)

After several days spent in Middlesbrough, we were eager to get back on the road. But just as we were heading out the door, PedalingGuy checked his back tire, and discovered it was low on air, again. This time he decided to change the tube before we left the hotel. Inspecting the tire, we found a 0.25 inch, incredibly sharp and hard thorn, that put a big hole in the tube. We removed the thorn, PedalingGuy put in a new tube, and I patched the hole created by the thorn. That should take care of the slow leak in PedalingGuy’s back tire. It will be a relief not to be worrying about that anymore.

If today’s ride had a theme, it would be bridges. The River Tees, which flows through Middlesbrough, has a remarkable collection of interesting bridges within a short distance of the city.

On our way out of town, we got a close up look at the Tees Transporter Bridge - the longest transporter bridge still operating, and one of Middlesbrough’s main tourist attractions. This is actually the second transporter bridge for the trip. We saw the first one when we crossed the Charente River, just south of Rochefort, France. But that one was seen from a distance, high on a nearby bridge. This time we got right up to the base of the bridge, on a viewing platform built by the city. We even got to watch as the gondola, which can carry up to 9 cars, left our side of the river, and drifted across on its long cables.

Unfortunately, our route did not take us across the Transporter Bridge. Instead, we pedaled upriver on the southern bank of the Tees. In the 1800s, this area was very industrial, with iron works, power plants, and other industries that used a lot of coal. As a result, the water and air were very polluted. These days, most of those industries are gone. There are still power plants (including a nuclear power plant) and a chemical plant. But much of the remaining waterfront is being turned into a greenway. The air and water are much cleaner, now, making for a pleasant riverside ride.

Not far upstream, we encountered several more of the unique bridges that span the River Tees. We passed the Newport Bridge, the first large, vertical lift bridge built in England. On this bridge, the center section is raised as one piece between two giant towers on either side of the river to allow passage of larger ships. Although the bridge has not been raised since 1990, it still carries a lot of traffic across the river. And it looks quite spiffy in a new coat of red and silver paint.

When we arrived at Teeside Park, we crossed the River Tees on the Barrage Bridge. It gets its name from the flood-control barrier (the barrage), which sits under the bridge. In addition to flood control, the barrier eliminates the effects of ocean tides upstream. Like many places in England, this area is affected by very large fluctuations in its tides. We frequently see lots of boats stranded on mud during low tide. By maintaining the upriver water level at the average high tide line, the river is much more attractive for recreational boating and other water sports. They’ve even built a popular water sports facility just upstream from the bridge.

Looking west from the Barrage Bridge, we saw one more of the River Tees’s iconic bridges: the elegant Infinity Bridge. Only 10 years old, it’s a relatively young bridge. It’s a pedestrian and cycle-only bridge, that was built as part of an urban reinvigoration program. It’s name, as you might guess, was chosen because when the River Tees waters are calm, its reflection looks like an infinity symbol.

We crossed one more interesting bridge, the County Durham Gateway Bridge, which takes cyclists from Yorkshire into County Durham. It was opened with much fanfare in 2001 when (then) Prime Minister Tony Blair personally rode a bike across to christen the bridge. It’s quite a grand ride. The bridge, which crosses a major highway, sports two, brightly-colored “wings” that sweep along the sides.

As we go deeper into northern England, people’s accents are becoming thicker - with a noticeable Scottish influence. We’ve had trouble understanding some of the folks we’ve encountered in shops and restaurants. It’s definitely awkward when the cashier in a shop asks if you want a receipt, and you have to ask him to repeat himself because you didn’t understand! We’re learning to use new phrases like, “sit in” (for when you’re going to eat at a restaurant, rather than do takeout), “hiya” (for hello), “fizzy drinks” (for soda pop), “wee” (for small), and of course, “aye” (for yes).

But the biggest kick is that when we overhear people speaking with each other, sometimes we can’t understand virtually anything they say. In Sunderland, they have their own dialect, Makem (with roots in old Anglo-Saxon English), that can apparently be hard even for people from other parts of England to understand.

Layover Day in Sunderland (30 May 2019)

A layover day in Sunderland gave PedalingGuy time to nail down a schedule for the work on his teeth with a dentist in Edinburgh. We had learned a couple of weeks ago that he would need to have two root canal procedures done, and Edinburgh is convenient because we had a longer layover planned then, anyway. Now that we have a better idea of how many appointments he needs (four) and when they will happen, we can start making plans for the rest of our time in the UK.

Like all of the North Sea cities in England, Sunderland has close ties to the sea. Amazingly, Sunderland’s ship-building industry was the biggest in the world for six centuries, but now they don’t build any. The last shipyard closed in 1988. And while Sunderland is now undergoing a resurgence with auto manufacturing and technology companies, it feels like the city is still trying to find its next big thing.

Sunderland to Blyth (31 May 2019, 38.7 km, 23.5 mi)

Our route hugged the coast all day today. On the way out of town, we rode by some of the city’s major waterfront businesses, including the Sunderland Port - still the second largest, municipally-owned port in the country - and the Sunderland Marina. We were impressed with how well-kept the docks appeared, with a fresh coat of paint on the big cranes used to load and unload the ships.

After passing the industrial area, we turned north and skirted the edge of Sunderland’s most popular beaches, Roker and Seaburn. As part of the North Sea, the ocean here is pretty cold, so it’s unusual to see anyone out in the water. By far the most popular activity on the beaches is dog walking. Well over half of the folks out on the beach are walking their dogs. There were also lots of sights along the way, including three lighthouses and a windmill.

We crossed the River Tyne on a small, pedestrian-only ferry. While waiting for the ferry to depart, we met a very nice, local biker. He was out riding just for the day. One of his regular routes takes him up the north bank of the Tyne to a bridge, then back on the south bank to the ferry. As we were talking, he pointed out a seal swimming near the ferry dock - first one we’ve seen on this trip.

Taking the ferry was super easy. We just rolled our bikes on, and paid the modest fee for the trip onboard. The ride across the river took only seven minutes. We just parked our bikes on board, using our tripod kickstands, and rolled off on the other side. Nice.

It had been drizzling on and off all day. But while the morning had been warm and wet, by the time we disembarked from the ferry it had become quite cold and VERY windy. We’ve coined a term for this type of weather, the “afternoon cool-down.” It’s definitely a pattern that holds true on most days: the mornings will be warmish, with temperatures around 16 C (low 60’s F), but between 11am-1pm, clouds will roll in and block the sun, and the wind speeds increase, with temperatures falling back under 15 C (high 50s). Even though we’re very familiar with this scenario by now, it still feels a bit odd. We’re used to afternoons being the warmest part of the day. Instead, we find ourselves piling on extra layers in the middle of the day.

On the north side of the river, the route went right by the scenic ruins of the Tynemouth Castle and Priory. While we were stopped to have a look, and take some photos, two older gentlemen came over to talk with us. They were very impressed that we’d biked up from Portugal. One enjoyed the idea so much, he said he was going to go home and tell his grandson all about our trip.

The rain was becoming more steady, and we didn’t need to hurry. So we stopped for lunch in North Tyneside. We decided to try the fish and chips at The Fryery by the Priory - mostly because we liked the name. A plaque on the wall commemorates the restaurant’s biggest claim to fame. Apparently, Jimi Hendrix got fish and chips there, when he was performing at a club down the street in 1967. The sign says he got take out, and ate his meal on a bench overlooking the sea. That sounded like a pleasant idea, but we were trying to get out of the rain, so we “sat in.”

North of Tynemouth, the coast was fairly developed most of the way, with lots of waterfront towns and beachfront businesses. But there were a few quiet stretches, where the trail skirted the line between the grass covered dunes on our right, and shallow marshes to the left.

Today we had planned a short ride, and it went by quickly. Even so, the wind was really whipping when we got to our hotel. The room was a bit too warm, so we opened a window. Then whoosh! Suddenly our room became a big wind tunnel, accompanied by a loud sound of rushing air. The strength of the wind streaming through our room, out the bathroom air vent and under the hallway door, was amazing. To stem the flow, we put a blanket along the bottom of the door. That cut down on the noise, somewhat. But before long we decided that the room was cool enough, and closed the window.

All along this part of the North Sea coast you can see groups of wind turbines offshore. But here in Blyth, there was a large windmill right outside our hotel. From the front porch of the hotel, you could hear the sound of the wind spinning the long blades of the turbine. I guess that should have been a clue that this point of land would be pretty windy.

Blyth to Amble (1 June 2019, 44.3 km, 27.5 mi)

Luckily the wind abated somewhat overnight.

The day’s ride started with a detour inland around the River Blyth estuary. That gave us the chance to ride alongside several tidal inlets. The tide was out, exposing extensive mud flats and mussel beds. We saw people out on the mud, collecting something. We’re not sure if it was clams (in the mud), mussels from the shoals, or something else.

Once we were back on the sea coast, we continued to see lots of offshore wind turbines. Later we learned that the UK has been the largest producer of energy from offshore wind farms since 2008, when it surpassed Denmark. Moreover, it’s not our imagination - the UK is really windy. It’s estimated to have a third of all the wind power potential in Europe. Yikes. That’s got some serious implications for our bike riding over the next month. But at least we might be able to expect less wind once we make it back to the continent.

Pretty quickly, we left the urban development of the River Blyth behind, and we were biking along shorelines with more natural areas. All the towns were small, today. There haven’t been any big cities since Tyneside, yesterday.

Along the way, we took a break at a scenic pull off, overlooking Cresswell Beach and the North Sea. While there, we watched a fishing boat pulling up traps from the sea floor. We wondered what they were catching? You don’t see a lot of crabs or lobsters on restaurant menus here. As usual, there were also lots of people walking their dogs on the beach. Saturdays are busy in all the natural areas, with lots of people out walking and cycling on the coastal paths. On the flip side, it’s been many days since we’ve seen anyone else out on a bike tour. This stretch of the coastal trail doesn’t seem as popular for cycle touring this time of year as the areas further south like the Yorkshire coast or the Wolds. Perhaps people are waiting for it to warm up more.

North of Cresswell, we entered the Druridge Bay Natural area, made up of several different parks. The dunes were covered with lush dune grasses. To our left were lots of marshes and ponds, with geese, ducks and herons.

The local accents are getting even harder to understand. As we entered the town of Amble, we encountered an old man on a bicycle who stopped to chat, and we really couldn’t understand a word he said. We weren’t completely sure he was speaking English. He probably was speaking Northumbrian English, a disappearing dialect spoken in Northumberland that’s closely related to Scots, which diverged from modern English in the 13th century. We managed to communicate a little bit through hand gestures, pointing and a few recognizable words. He seemed pleased that we were traveling by bicycle, and passing through Amble on our journey.  

We arrived in Amble too early to check into our hotel. So we decided to have lunch at a cafe on the waterfront first. PedalingGuy had fish & chips again (that’s two days in a row). It’s by far the most common menu item in these parts. The cafe we went to has been serving fish and chips on the Amble Wharf for 150 years.

There were Common Eiders swimming in the harbor, right among the boats. Most of them were working, fishing boats. And there were piles of wire traps on the dock - probably the same kind that were being hauled up by the boat that we watched at Cresswell Beach earlier in the day.

We spent the evening back at our hotel, figuring out how much cycling we’ll be able to do in Scotland after our first layover in Edinburgh. We now know we’ll need to go back to Edinburgh for a second set of dental appointments. So, we’ve decided that we can bike as far as Aberdeen, before we will need to turn around and head back to Edinburgh by train.

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