A Tale of Two Fords – Ford Angrier and Ford Popular
Saturday 8th August 2020
I said goodbye to Rothbury and started the day with a very pleasant ride along the River Coquet for the first couple of miles, before the route took a sharp and steep climb into the Northumberland National Park. I knew it was coming and I knew the worst of the climbs were early in the day, so it was just knuckling down and getting on with it. I knew that Southern England was enjoying (?) a heatwave, but with 70km and a lot of climbing to do I was for once grateful that the weather up north was nothing like that. I counted my blessings and pedalled on.
After a fair few miles I realised I was on the National Cycle Network; now these routes can be a mixed blessing; you assume they pick routes that are easy to cycle on between towns, geared to casual cyclists and away from the traffic. Unfortunately sometimes they prioritise the traffic free element over the practicalities of the route and sure enough after some lovely quiet roads I was left with the following choice.
Should I go straight on, on what clearly was an off road track, or bear right and continue on the road? A quick check on Google and I realised this was a difficult choice as the road route would see me on the A697 for a number of miles, and while I don’t mind dicing with death occasionally, this looked like it would be too much. Using Google I also worked out that the off road part of the NCN route only lasted a third of a mile until it hit some kind of paved road, so that’s the way I took. Big mistake……what I hadn’t discerned from Google that it soon became very boggy and muddy as it descended sharply into a ford across the river. I gave up trying to ride, it wouldn’t have been difficult on a fat tyred, unladen mountain bike and even walking on the slippery slope was difficult. Fortunately I didn’t have to go through the ford, which was pretty deep, as there was a pedestrian bridge next to it, but it did make me cross. If we are to get more people cycling, Sustrans (who are responsible for the NCN), can’t have these routes, that start on tarmac and then turn into paths that are only suitable for macho mountain bikers. So that’s the first Ford, Ford Angrier (geddit?)
I rolled into the pretty little town of Wooler, a little larger than Rothbury just in time for lunch and got introduced to the local gravedigger, sort of. She reminded ever so much of Nessa from Gavin and Stacey, and certainly not someone I would be picking an argument with. A welcome break, I even met a few other cyclists before I got on my merry way.
Northumberland is pretty but it is also empty; it’s true that there isn’t much traffic but apart from ruined castles there isn’t much to see. Now I like castles, but even I can become bored of them.
About 20km from Berwick I did come across the busy village of Ford with a particularly grand castle. The buildings in the village probably haven’t changed much in hundreds of years but on this fine Saturday afternoon the pub and the coffee shops were rammed. So that’s Ford Pop…. oh never mind I am sure you already got there.
The best thing about today’s ride was the fact I was meeting Peter at Berwick that evening. Peter was joining me for the last 2 days of cycling and it was great to get a bit of company. After a final struggle up a hill I rolled into Berwick. I was here 2 years ago with Adele on a grey August day, but today with the sun out , people on the streets and approaching it from the River, it all looked a lot more attractive than I remembered.
Once at the Castle Head Hotel I lost out at hotel room roulette with Peter. He got a lovely double bedded room with a nice large picture window whilst for the same price I got a prison cell. I did sleep well though.
Berwick is a frontier town obviously and over the years ownership has flitted back and forth between England and Scotland, though it has been English now for 500 years. Berwick Rangers though do play in the Scottish Leagues…
The town has plenty of good looking restaurants, and only a few were still closed because of Covid, but we really struggled to get a table anywhere and ended up eating at our hotel. We did manage a pint afterwards at this fine establishment though, a Wetherspoons in all but name.
At least in Berwick I was once again in step with Defoe, though he didn’t have much to say about the town:
where indeed there is one thing very fine, and that is, the bridge over the Tweed, built by Queen Elizabeth, a noble, stately work, consisting of sixteen arches, and joining, as may be said, the two kingdoms. As for the town it self, it is old, decay’d, and neither populous nor rich;
I am not sure much has changed. The bridge is still there (actually built just after Elizabeth’s reign and opened in 1624) and the view from it today may not be an awful lot different to the one that Defoe may have had 300 years ago.
Circuit of Britain 