The Embleton few

Paul, saviour of the universe drove us down and back on just one charge. A huge round of applause as driving to this place is an absolute godsend and although it curtails his wednesday night, we were in bed by 8.22pm, it certainly didn't derail the day's walk. 

That dubious pleasure was down to the sobriety and infirmity of the tooth and tonsil'less wonder Fat Al. 

 Paul's skills in driving were matched in the pool room and the race to 10 pints where he just didn't have an equal. His peer group were racing slowly towards one pint on their arrival, or in Al's case a coffee, while Paul rose in search of number 3. 

You just cant hide the excitement of a man escaping responsibility and starting to freewheel. There are just so many cookies in this cookie jar that he was spoilt for choice. 

 First we had to checking in and with only 5 rooms, sadly our host had got it wrong. THey'd given us a room without bunk beds. Much chagrin at the thought of Paul sleeping with his 76 year old Dad. At 52 years of age you dont think you'll ever want to do that again but I did look at him and suggested under my breath it would be nice to cuddle in with Dad. 

Although I might not be drinking I suggested they take time to consider everything with a pint in hand. We were at the digs so lets take an hour and see if it cant all be resolved. 

 We'd chosen to sit inside and then outside the digs, the Blue Bell Inn, for the opening salvo of 2 and a half pints but by the time they'd moved around to the Dunstanburgh Hotel the stagger had unwound and it was now 5 pints to 2 for the drinkers and a half and a coffee to the abstainers. Time to walk declared Paul and off to Christon Bank, the destination? 

The Blink Bonny. 

We meandered out of town across paths and fields of cattle. Copious glances to the phones and the trail. I kept looking up saying, its just over there isn't it. It made me chuckle when Paul suddenly realised that the number we'd phoned to clarify the room situation had been one misheard digit out. A 0 for an 8 is easily done. The outcome was many messages to nobody we knew. Paul spoke to the woman who immediately apologised and said she'd rectify and give us the room as billed. We had just left one field of cattle for a forestry walk. This was all very curious as we came across a stone outbuilding which was missing one half of the building, when the call came through to walk back. We did, got the right room and all was well. More coffee in the Dunstanburgh hotel for me and more pints for them. The next decision was food. We needed to make sure some was taken and 7.30pm was a popular kitchen closing curfew. We opted to pop around to the Greys inn. This was a masterclass as the food was excellent. The drink and sparkling water also whetted the appetite for more walking so next up was the beach. 

 The tide was out but, Notso Fatso, Al's latin name from the Cancer Camino he was on, went in for a dip. The sea was fresh and the water fine. More swimming then drying then walking back ensured a decent afternoon's walk and a steady drink taken too.