ENGLAND'S WILD WONDERLAND
Beautiful, rugged and unspoiled, this vast northern county resounds with thrilling notes of nature. There’s no better place to blow away the cobwebs, writes Countryfile director Polly Billam
The call of the wild sounds different to different people, but for me, it is the soulful song of Northumberland. From the shrill cry of a seabird circling the rugged coast, to the desolate roar of the wind over jagged rocks and heather on the uplands, unfettered nature beckons audibly here.
In my twenties, living and working in London, Northumberland was where I headed for a therapeutic dose of countryside. A friend’s parents kept a battered 1974 VW campervan on Teeside, and if we caught a late train out of King’s Cross on a Friday evening, we could collect the bus and be in deep border country by nightfall, swaddled to sleep by the reassuring sounds of solitude.
Northumberland is England’s least densely populated county. It’s also, reportedly, the windiest, making it an ideal setting to escape the daily grind and blow away a multitude of accumulated cobwebs. It’s undoubtedly wild here, but as you travel across its landscape, the nature of the wildness shifts. Viewed from above, the county looks like army camouflage, a mosaic of dark green forest, light green grazing, sandy beige beaches and rich brown moorland. Diverse habitat means diverse wildlife and, pootling around the region over a weekend, it is possible to tick off a number of British wildlife highlights.
WILD SHORES
The rugged north-east coast is a good place to start an outdoor odyssey, not least because the midsummer sun is reborn each day from the North Sea, so you can get cracking at first light. There are any number of campsites and B&Bs along this shore, ideally positioned for a dawn stumble to the beach with a mug of steaming tea to watch the display of light breaking. Once you’ve been baptised in the morning’s golden rays, I guarantee you’ll be itching to
carpe the rest of that diem and go in search of all the wildness you can find. The long swathe of sand beneath
Low Newton-by-the-Sea is wonderful for an isolated walk. Leaving behind fresh footprints in the pristine sand of Embleton
Bay, you clamber over smooth rocks like alien eggs and past tufted dunes to the lonely outcrop of Dunstanburgh Castle
before descending again into the pretty fishing village of Craster, a great place for a locally landed lunch.
Keep your eyes on the sea all along this coast, as it’s one of the best places in Britain to see seals and cetaceans. The heads of the grey seals bob on the surface like whiskery beachballs, and the high-up headland at Dunstanburgh is a great vantage point for spotting harbour porpoises. It’s also home to raucous seabird colonies, which reach the peak of their frenzied activity in July, so there’s plenty to see. The dune systems and grasslands along this coast host an amazing array of plantlife and the cliffs north of Craster are a designated Site of Special Scientific Interest due to the species that thrive in its shallow soil.
A wild swim is a rewarding way to truly immerse yourself in this coastline but, since the Gulf Stream is felt less strongly on this side of the British Isles, you’ll probably want to bring a wetsuit. If you feel an urge to take the full plunge, there is great diving to be had, particularly around the nearby Farne Islands. If you prefer to stay dry, naturethemed boat trips are also available.
ABOVE AND BEYOND
As you leave the coast behind, the landscape begins its steady rise to the uplands. This is a land moulded by colossal forces but with a gentler hand than the spiky granite mountains of Scotland or the jutting gritstone edges of the Peak District. The palate is classic England, shimmering blues, verdant greens, with the odd frivolous dash of purple heather or yellow gorse, and it is all heart-stoppingly beautiful.
Steep slopes mean waterfalls and there are several great examples on the borders of Northumberland National Park, nearer or further from the road, depending on how intrepid you feel. The gentle one and a half mile yomp from the village of Bellingham to Hareshaw Linn feels like something akin to time travel as the wooded river gorge cuts you off from the surrounding world. Move stealthily and you might spot red squirrels flitting among the trees; open your ears and the musical rush of the water is augmented with the thrum of woodpeckers and the flutter of tiny wings as pied flycatchers dash in and out of cover. The fast-flowing water is also good for dippers,
the only diving bird of the passerine family and a personal favourite of mine. With its dapper white bib, it looks like it’s dressed for dinner and it is delightful to watch, foraging underwater in search of invertebrate food. Dippers are a good indicator of the health of a river and they’re plentiful in Northumberland, which is good news.
WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE
Kielder Forest has a fairytale feel. Sunlight strobes though vertical trunks as you wander along, transforming the world into flickering cinefilm. Here, it is possible to feel far from civilisation one moment and then turn a corner and stumble across a monolith, an art installation or indeed a Gruffalo the next. But the fantastic beasts roaming among this deep dark wood could soon be stranger than fiction if plans go ahead to release Eurasian lynx here. Kielder is currently the preferred location for rewilding this once-native predator, and consultation with locals is underway.
It might feel like a natural landscape, but Kielder is an engineered wilderness, being the largest manmade forest in Europe
surrounding the largest manmade lake in Britain. It’s less than 40 years old but that hasn’t stopped the wildlife moving in. Otters romp on the rivers and waterways and were detected in record numbers in 2016, while ospreys patrol the skies. A trip on the water gets you a bit closer and the awe-inspiring Calvert Trust, who we have featured on
Countryfile several times, make sure people of all abilities can take a walk – or a paddle – on the wild side, with wildlife-themed motorboat cruises and kayak sessions.
The emptiness of this landscape really hits you after dark, driving for mile upon mile and seeing no lights, no other cars and no trace of anything but black beyond the feeble reach of your headlights. The night sky is tremendous and Kielder is a great place to sleep under the stars, from allmod-cons campsites to a handful of secret backpacker sites where wild camping is permitted as long as you arrive on foot.
SO MUCH MOOR
No foray into Northumberland’s wild corners would be complete without time spent in the upland moors, which make up 80% of the national park. Heather moorland is one of the rarest habitats in the world and Northumberland has a big share of it. A world away from the coast, the uplands around Simonside are a painterly chiaroscuro of light and shade, as dark clouds scud over a rugged tapestry of vegetation. Head out early to see it at its isolated best.
You’re more likely to hear a lot of the wildlife around here before you see it. The telltale burbling and gurgling of the red grouse says one is not far away and, unless it takes to the wing, the plaintive cry of the golden plover might be the only trace you detect of this immaculately camouflaged bird. Similarly, skylarks and curlews, the symbol of the national park, are often a disembodied soundtrack to your travels.
Something that may put in an appearance at this time of year is the ring ouzel. I have an ongoing vendetta against this mountain cousin of the blackbird, after an attempt to film one for Countryfile turned into a war of attrition, in which he would taunt us from a gatepost, only to duck behind cover as soon as we got a camera out. On that occasion the score ended at ring ouzel, one, bedraggled film crew, nil, but I’m hopeful of a rematch.
It isn’t just the moorland wildlife that’s enigmatic. The mysterious cup and ring marks found carved into hundreds of rocks here were made by our prehistoric ancestors between the Neolithic and the Bronze Age. The fact they carved the same shapes for thousands of years implies great significance, but their meaning has been lost, leaving you free to speculate as to their purpose. Were they shepherds’ maps, religious symbols or simply doodles? After the moors, local market town
Rothbury will feel like a metropolis with its cafes, shops and a lively music festival in July. A weekend wandering Northumberland’s wilder places might leave you in need of a friendly face and the warm welcome of a local pub. Luckily, living in the most sparsely populated county means people are generally pleased to see you, so pull up a chair and compare your wild tales.
“SKYLARKS AND CURLEWS ARE OFTEN A DISEMBODIED SOUNDTRACK TO YOUR TRAVELS”