I don't know what it is that attracts me to Lindisfarne, the Holy Island. Probably the safe, free, wild-camping in a place of scenic, natural, and historic interest. The tides are more dramatic in some other places, but there are only a few where the road disappears completely at high tide, year-round. In any case, we made for the car-park on the mainland side and spent a quiet night there, the only sound being the coming and going of the tides. Next day, we crossed over, snapped a few pix, and resumed our journey south before the next tide trapped us there.
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Yes, I know, same sign as in 2009 |
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Crossing |
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Lindisfarne Castle |
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Alas, closed when we were there this time; no cockles for Mark |
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From the island, looking back across the channel-about-to-be-flooded |
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Do not profane the Holy Island |
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Back safe we are now on terra firma, watching the beginning of the flood |
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Maybe it's all the tank obstacles that make me feel safe and secure |
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In any case, we drove on, stopping for lunch outside Bamburgh Castle; privately
owned but open for paying customers |
1 comment:
Looks like a cousin to Mont St. Michel.
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