Thursday 15th May 2025
I'd made it as far north as Low (& High) Newton-by-the-Sea on my last Northumbrian coastal jaunt, running out of time for any further frolics due to those pesky two hourly buses, but you lot were unanimous .... 'Oi BRAP, whatya doin' missing out Seahouses & Bamburgh, that's my favourite bit!"
It had to be rectified, and quick, with school holidays and tourist season fast approaching.
Shivering in Berwick station entrance, I peer out in search of my bus. What to do if it doesn't arrive? It suddenly dawns on me that the 'Borders' (zero ticks) and 'Edinburgh and the Loathings' (just 4 left) might be more #ThirstyThursday possible than I'd previously imagined.
But my bus turns up, and I catch it despite an old lady giving me the wrong stop. It is a fair old bumpy way to Seahouses but with the help of the Viagra Boys coming in my ears, we get the job done.
Due to tight bus timings, I couldn't afford to linger long / savour my Seahouse debut, but I can taste the salty sea air and nearly buy a bucket hat with dice on it.
Initial 'shut pub alert panic! Which I know will wreck my entire day, and in the planning, I hadn't been sure if 11am was accurate due to murky 'online sources'. But I'm nothing if not persistent, and relief around the back in the form of an open door.
Welcome to Olde Ship, Seahouses (3133 / 5618) and I follow the narrow corridor in search of a bar, any bar. It resembles a nautical fairground haunted house .....
Yep, I did say 'alright mate' just in case he was listening. I finally come to the end, take a narrow right, almost colliding with two barmaids who look at me like "we can see you sneaking in", and I say 'hi' to the only other patron, a frail old guy who presumably has a quiet pre-lunchtime pint as part of his daily routine, every day since 1652. He wheezes 'hello' back to me, but looks slightly terrified. A better front bar room you'll barely see in any pub .....
The old guy soon leaves, helped up by the barmaids who unlock a back door for him. I'm all alone, my Farne Island with Puffin on the clip drinking pretty well. The vast majority of UK pubs suffer when I'm their only customer (I phrased that badly .... I mean, suffer from only having one customer!!) but a pub this ancient and full of character thrums with the salty sea dog ghosts of old. I 'explore' during my wee break, finding a myriad of unique side and back rooms all with their own style .....
So my favourite Northumbrian pub yet? Ship at Low-Newton-by-the-Sea had a more tantalising approach, incredibly nice staff and slightly better beer quality. But the interior of this leaves it for dust. So we'll call it tie!
Sadly no time to linger (afore mentioned pesky buses the reason) so I calculate that as long as I can get myself to Bamburgh within the hour, I can have a quite leisurely pint and get the next Berwick bus easily. Straightforward walk too looking at the map.
But when is BRAPA ever straightforward? No sooner have I turned onto the coastal path out of Seahouses ....
.... when I casually type in 'Castle Inn Bamburgh' only for Google Maps to scream "PERMANENTLY CLOSED!" Whaaaat? I rush to the nearest bench inches from the sea, wind gusting at me, oh and it was about now it decided to rain, I need to check this!
My last gasp 'research' ain't helped by the fact that Seahouses has a Bamburgh Castle pub, with their own Facebook account, very much open. Oh, AND Bamburgh Castle itself adds another layer of confusion. But then Whatpub, an unlikely saviour, mentions a Middle Inn, former name Castle Inn. This must be it! But is it open and aley? Well, I'm committed to the walk anyway, and can't afford to lose any more time.
I pull on one of my Hulk Hogan bandanas, passing walkers who keep saying hello and being all 'lovely' and I'm like 'Can't you tell I'm having an existential pub crisis here lads!'
I know the walk is going well when I finally reach Bamburgh's actual castle, looking just as splendid as Robson Green reckoned on that annoying documentary where he electric biked this stretch of coast the lazy sod ....
But the nerves aren't quite done as I approach the pub and the couple walking in front of me stop at the front door, stock still, staring at it ..... Oh please don't be shut, I still haven't recovered from Blues Dawg last Saturday!
Fear not, as I get closer, it becomes clear they browsing a menu or some guff. Phewwww, welcome to Middle Inn, Bamburgh (3134 / 5619). I wander through a carpetted right to the back bar serving ales. It is doggier, twildier and less cosy over to the left, and I just thank my fucky stars that I'm not here on a warm August Saturday if this is anything to go by! Two ales on, both local.
"SO WHEN DID YOU CHANGE FROM THE CASTLE TO THE MIDDLE?" I bark at the barman, and it comes out more aggressively than intended, like I'm questioning him in a court of law. "Some time last year m'lud" he replies. "Hmmmm. I see. VERY interesting. No further questions your honour."
I retire to the cosy right, carpet like some Tayside hotel, though we're so northern, we practically are Scottish in a 'Portsmouth is in France' kinda way. My beer comes in a ridiculous tankard to appeal to the tourists, and although it is no Olde Ship, worthy of a visit and a bit of scran if you have time. The lady next to me orders herself a giant dirty burger, then tells her husband she's got him a lasagne and salad because he's on a diet. He looks glum, so she says he can have a chip. I smile sweetly at them like I'm not listening and definitely not putting it in a blog.
My bus is 45 minutes delayed, can you believe it?! Probably so in this part of the world. I'm tracking it on live bus times and it seemed to get stuck at Craster for about 20 minutes. Maybe the bus driver had crabs? On the plus side, I could (a) nurse this pint for longer than I would've been allowed and (b) there's some public loos next to the bus stop so I get to go three times to pee it all out so I'm comfy all the way back to Berwick. Oh, and he didn't charge me due to the lateness.
I was kinda hoping for a pint at either Barrels (shut) or Curfew (time looked a bit tight) before my York train, but I got a reduced Wispa (cos it was squashed) and a coffee at the station cafe, where a milk delivery wowed the locals.
Home in good time, and very sober so can't complain. Roll on Saturday's trip to the West Mids, which I'll tell you about probably on Saturday (I'm staying in with a hangover) as I'm on #ThirstyThursday tomorrow and at a #BeerFest on Friday.
Tek care, Si
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