Coast and Castles - July 2025 - Trip List

So that was the trip. A lot of fun but also very hard work. Six counties in six days, and about 220 miles covered as follows.

Newcastle to Blyth - 21.5 miles

Blyth to Seahouses - 50.7 miles

Seahouses to Eyemouth - 40.7 miles

Eyemouth to Haddington - 35 miles

Haddington to Edinburgh - 30.5 miles

Edinburgh to Fife - 38.6 miles

I saw a lot of birds, a surprising number really, with a total of 103 species seen between Newcastle and Fife. East Lothian was the most productive, perhaps due to that dedicated session at Musselburgh, followed closely by Northumberland. Both counties are now close to 100 species - on my next drive up or down I will try and put that right. Here's the list in spreadsheet form, and if you wanted to see it in eBird it can be found here. Here also is Mrs L's non-organisational contribution to the trip.

Coast and Castles - July 2025 - Fife

Technically I suppose Mrs L and I are now beyond the Coast and Castles route, which starts in Newcastle and ends in Edinburgh. At this point, and in fact since Berwick, we have been travelling along CR76. The Forth Road Bridge is a cheeky but iconic short cut; the route in fact goes all the way across to Stirling and then back down the other side to Rosyth. I had been  greatly looking forward to this moment. Partly for the views, partly to say I'd done it (all my children have done it), and partly because I was sure I was going to be able to see loads of birds from up there. 

As a result it took me ages to cross and Mrs L left me behind. And other than a handful of Common Tern on some rocks near the North Queensferry side I saw no birds at all. We were in Fife! Now my Fife list is 208, and I was 100% sure that it would remain on 208 despite taking a slow route to the original Chateau L. So this was more about seeing if anything could be added to the trip list from a numbers perspective. We passed through Inverkeithing and bought some lunch, and then headed east for the first time down to the shore. I've never seen the bridges from this perspective. Along this track there was another Bullfinch, as as we went around the edge of Dalgety Bay some unseen Crossbills passed overhead - these were new for the trip and they are on the move at this time of year.

Dalgety Bay

We had lunch overlooking Pettycur Bay, high up on the bluff between the train tracks and the road. Not especially glamourous but the view is nice. I scanned the Terns and Waders on the sand before the tide came in but other than a couple of Barwits could not sift out anything particularly special. 

At Kinghorn our route turned inland for a while to cut out a corner. Kinghorn Loch was only a very short distance off the CR76 so we paused there for a cup of tea. The home stretch. I had been hoping for a Gadwall, or perhaps some Shoveler but it was not to be. A suspicious Pink-footed Goose was with some Greylag, but at least it didn't come in to the family chucking bread about. 

Back in the saddle we moved slowly north-east, the hill out of Kinghorn requiring getting off an pushing. There was then a lovely mild gradient downhill section to Kirkcaldly on Standing Stanes Road, and we hadn't gone far before a Wheatear flipped off the road and into the field. Our glide into Kirkcaldy complete, we pedalling slowly along the esplanade. The seafront at Kirkcaldy does not show Fife at it's best. The planners were asleep at the wheel and the 1960s and 70s seem to have been particularly unkind. I had a last scan of the sea and then it was up into Thornton.

So close. Birding was put to one side, I just wanted to get off the bike. The last few miles were thus pretty rapid and we arrived at the ancenstral pad at around half four. A case of pinot noir had arrived earlier that day (sent by me in a moment of desperation en route) and so we cracked a bottle open shortly afterwards. Done!

The visit was brief - we spent the whole week getting there and had to go home more or less immediately!

Coast and Castles - July 2025 - East Lothian and Edinburgh

I am not sure where exactly we crossed into East Lothian, but by the time we reached Torness that's where we were. Near where the cycle path begins there's a lake, Whitesands Quarry, and another prolongued stop added Great Crested Grebe and Pochard for the trip. This was where I first detected some frustration - checklist #49 if you were wondering - so she did pretty well. There was a Yellow Wagtail along here somewhere as well.

So, East Lothian. In contrast to the Borders I've actually been birding here a few timest. My first recorded visit was for a Hoopoe in 2010. I'd been staying in Fife and back in those days I thought nothing of driving a few hours for a bird, I was at my most rabid. It was near a burn at Dunglass. I then neglected the county for a decade before going birding at Musselburgh in 2020 when there was a White-winged Scoter present off the beach. In then in 2022 I went to Aberlady Bay and dipped something but I can't now remember what it was. Presumably a duck of some kind. These visits meant I started this trip on 68 species, but with none of them having been in the summer months I was missing lots of common things.

The Bass Rock looms large

We bought a picnic lunch (as well as food for the evening) from the Co-Op in Dunbar and took it to the seafront where we found a pleasant bench. This close to the Bass Rock Gannet passage was excellent, and my count of 750 is probably a massive underestimate. There was a sole Fulmar and also just one Sandwich Tern, but Kittiwakes were passing in good numbers. Things like Sand Martin, Swallow and Swift were all new.

Pied Wagtail

Seafield Lagoon

At this point we headed inland, cutting out the lump of North Berwick and Gullane. We cycled past Seafield Lagoon which necessitated another stop, and then encountered what I felt was possibly the most miserable part of the route so far, a three mile straight line slog alongside the A199 against a direct 20mph headwind. We turned south at East Linton and from there it was only a few miles to our stop for the night at Morham. This was a one room bothy in the middle of endless cabbage fields that Mrs L had stayed in before, and it was possibly my favourite night of them all despite having to sleep in a sleeping bag on a rock solid bunk. It just had some real charm about it. We enjoyed a basic but very tasty home-cooked meal, a jammy Co-Op syrah without any finesse whatsoever, and listened to an episode of A Prairie Home Companion which somehow seemed appropriate.

Bell's Bunkhouse Bothy. Sleeps 6.

The following morning we woke up to rain. Pah! Thanks Scotland. We packed up and got ready as slowly as we possibly could but ultimately were forced to leave in some light mizzle of the sort that gets you wet but not really wet. I did not break out the waterproof trousers. Despite the weather I continued birding, and by the time we reached Haddington it had brightened up sufficiently to get my bins out. We cycled along a small river into town, the hightlights being a pair of Grey Wagtail by the weir, and a calling Green Woodpecker closer to town.

The Great East Lothian Cabbage Belt

After a nice but bad for me breakfast in a local deli (where we also stocked up on another picnic lunch), we headed up towards the coast a Longniddry. This was along a disused railway line and was quite wonderful, with lots of Warblers, Blackbirds, Chaffinch, Yellowhammer, a Buzzard and best of all a male Bullfinch.

Oh look, there's someone up ahead waiting for me

The sea at Seton Sands was like a mirror. Rafts of Eider floated passively on it, there was barely a ripple. As ever the number of dogs being walked on the beach beggared belief and so waders were thin on the ground. I think I added a single Bar-tailed Godwit, and at Port Seton shore, my keen eyes picked out a Kingfisher which I insisted Mrs L, some way ahead of me again, to come back and look at. We would never get to Musselburgh she said.  

But we did, and at a perfect time for lunch. I wanted to go and explore the lagoons, so she settled down to more sock and I scooted off. I joined some birders on the sea wall looking for (and finding, with Velvets) the long-staying drake Surf Scoter, and then cycled up to the old lagoons. These were teeming with birds until two young ladies decided to try and inflate a dinghy on one. I mean really? Anyway, lots of Little Gull on the left hand pool, with Shelduck, Lapwing, Redshank and a few Dunlin, and then at least seven Common Sandpiper on one of the rear pools. There was supposed to a Wood Sandpiper knocking around as well, and I was a little disappointed when the intrepid rowers failed to put it up. Lots of Pied Wagtail on the short grass.

Surf Scoter in amongst Velvet Scoters

I rejoined Mrs L at the Esk and we carried on into Edinburgh, East Lothian finishing on a pleasing but oh-so-close 97. My Edinburgh list stood at just 26 and is basically just my sister's garden and the airport. A couple of random housing estates added Song Thrush and Long-tailed Tit, and then all of a sudden we were rounding Arthur's seat and after a long graffiti'd tunnel popped out quite near the Royal Mile. From having been in the middle of nowhere for large parts of trip to now be in a huge throng of people was a little discombobulating, but we took it in for a while before carrying on to my sister's house, the run of which we had to ourselves as the whole family was out. We did boring things like all of our washing, and then walked into town to Aizle, a posh restaurant I'd booked a few days earlier when the deep-fried fare had been getting me down. We had a five course tasting menu that was simply exquisite, with wines that matched the food well but were (in my spoiled brat universe) fairly unexciting. I failed to take any photos of the food as seems so de-rigeur these days, but it was as beautiful as it was delicious.

Edinburgh

Well rested and well fed we awoke the next morning for the final leg. Over the Forth Road Bridge and onwards into Fife. I am not sure of the exact route, but it was inland rather than along the coast, passing through Craigleith and Davidson's Mains to Dalmeny and finally to Queensferry. I'd been looking forward to this bit.

Never gets old

Coast and Castles - July 2025 - The Scottish Borders

It was a steep and very enjoyable descent down into Eyemouth. As I had quipped earlier to some friends I find that I cope with half of the hills really quite easily. The other half tend to be more challenging... There had been sections of the ascent to the border marker where I'd simply had to get off and push, itself quite hard going with a heavily loaded bike. Going down hills this extra weight on the bike, and other - ahem - extra weight, meant that I attained considerable speed, passing Mrs L and her lighter, er, panniers quite easily. She's a maths teacher and tried to explain gravitational potential energy to me but basically my bike is just faster.

If my Tyne and Wear list was pathetic you should see my Scottish Borders list. Four species. Four! Crow, Rook, Woodpigeon and LBB from some random list on the A68 near Jedburgh. I suspect I was just trying to colour in the map as I went through. The trip had been tweaked specifically to allow more time here, including a crack at St Abb's Head. So as soon as we reached the border at Mordington I was off and away, recording 22 species along about three miles of the CR76 down into Ayton.

Eyemouth

At Eyemouth we settled into our accomodation above the Ship Inn - recommended and they even have a bike store - and went for a walk along the beach and up onto the headland from where you could see St Abb's Head about four miles distant. Seabird traffic was light, but I still picked up Guillemot, Kittiwake and Gannet passing. By the end of the day the Scottish Borders was a lot healthier on 39. We had dinner outside at the Ship, watched attentively by a Herring Gull (#6). I had a shellfish bonanza, Mrs L a sweet potato curry - at last something approaching proper food.

St Abb's Head from Eyemouth

Herring Gull

I had been vacillitating about whether or not to visit St Abb's Head. It was late in the season, most birds would be gone, it was out of our way and most annoyingly it was a bloody great hill. Having come this far though we decided to do it. We cycled to the far end of Mire Loch and then I ditched the bike and walked the rest of the way up to the lighthouse, abandoning Mrs L to brake repairs, tea and the continued knitting of socks. She hates being on bird cliffs with me and would rather I fell off without her seeing. It was indeed quite quiet up there, with only a handful of Guillemot left on nests. The most abundant bird was Kittiwake, the colony seemed to be in full swing still, and there were plenty of Gannet. It took forever to find a Razorbill on the sea, and with only binoculars my tactic was to find a dot and then take a picture of it with my camera. I've invested in a very small yet very powerful zoom lens, the Sony E 70-350mm f4.5-6.3 G. On the APS-C body that I have this works out at 525mm in real terms, which given it's the size of a can of drink is really quite something. Once said dot is located, which itself is quite hard on a featureless sea, I can then zoom in on the photo and separate one auk from another. Perfect, if rather a faff. I couldn't find a Puffin, and it was lucky I'd seen a Fulmar fly past at Eyemouth on the way out as I couldn't find one of them either. HMS Queen Elizabeth was rather easier. My allotted hour passed all too quickly and I made my way back to the bikes.

Mire Loch held a few Tufted Duck, Mallard, Coot and Mute Swan, some Greylag flew over, and the woods at the start of the approach road had calling Nuthatch and Song Thrush. Meanwhile Meadow Pipit, Swallow and House Martin were everywhere, Stonechat were in the gorse, and a family of Peregrine zoomed around. 49 for the Borders, soon up to 50 with a Greenfinch at Coldingham.

Stonechat

Meadow Pipit

The Bass Rock dominates everything for miles around

I added Buzzard and Dunnock and Headchesters just before lunch, and then we had the mother of all descents into Pease Bay which is just south of Torness. Good thing Mrs L had sorted out my brakes otherwise I might now be writing this from the North Sea. We stopped for coffee, a Whitethroat and a Sedge Warbler here. The route then goes alongside the A1, past the power station, and then cuts across to track a bit closer to the sea whilst going through a quarry and cement plant, from where a proper cycle track starts. But of course this is now East Lothian.

Looking down towards Torness

Coast and Castles - July 2025 - Northumberland

Cambois

Blyth dawned grey and miserable, I can't say I was surprised. However better things lay in store, the forecast suggesting that by 9am it would be a lot nicer. We headed for breakfast in a happier mood. Breakfast is the one meal where I don't mind the use of oil and deep-frying, and so we settled down to a stupidly large and calorific feast to set ourselves up for the day. I birded out of the window whilst supping on coffee, the usual suspects for the most part but I was surprised by a small fleet of Goosander in the channel. My Northumberland list is streets ahead of Tyne and Wear mainly due to it being somewhere I've actually stopped at on the way to and from Fife. There was the Bridled Tern twitch on the Farnes in about 2013, and then the Grey-headed Lapwing near High Newton much more recently, but mainly it appears I just dropped in as I passed if there was something worth stopping for. So I've got a record of a Great Reed Warbler from East Chevington in 2021 for instance, and then Pacific Golden Plover at Boulmer and a White-winged Black Tern from Druridge Bay on the same day in 2020. Along with all the incidentals that meant I started the day on 65 yet Goosander and Magpie were both new.

It was going to be an exciting day, I was going to meet my blog reader. Many people as they age become more and more antisocial, less tolerant of everyone and everything. Maybe that is a gross generalisation but I feel there's some truth there. In my case the opposite seems to be happening, and as I age the more I gregarious I seem to be becoming. All relative of course, I am still a grumpy old so-and-so. Lockdown was the catalyst. After spending so long in different periods of relative isolation, when it was finally over I threw caution to the wind and made a real effort to leave my four walls, meet new people and cultivate new friendships. Generally this was through shared passions, chiefly wine. These other people felt the same way and so versus a few years ago I now have a fairly wide network of friends and aquaintances in London and beyond, extending to a lot of the south-east and even as far as Edinburgh. The same is true of birding in Fife - despite having visited there for years it is only in recent times that I've made a deliberate effort to speak to other birders up there, and have joined the Fife Bird Club and their various WhatsApp groups. I cannot really explain it other than by that period of enforced nuclear family solitude.

So before I left London I used Social Media (gah!) to get in touch with Alan who I knew lived somewhere along our route. Alan is a fellow birder, and is one of those people who I felt that I really should have met many years ago, yet at the same time I felt as if I already had. It's curious. Anyway, would he like to meet for morning coffee in his neck of the woods as we passed? He could have ignored my message but good soul that he is he did not! I think he felt much the same as I did. A time and date were set, and it was later this morning.

The Blyth Estuary

The weather did indeed start to clear up, and as we cycled along the Blyth Estuary and out towards Cambois the joy in what we were doing really began to set in. Fresh air, it was warm, there was a modicum of sun, there were no people (go figure!) and the views were fantastic. Remember for a moment what I spend most of my life gazing out at: concrete. The first Swallows appeared at Cambois as we cycled between the village and the sea, chattering overhead. As the journey went on, along with House Martin, Linnet and Goldfinch, their calls became our constant companions. 

We met Alan and Suzanne at the Drift Café just outside Cresswell mid morning. It was great to finally put a face to the name. We have known of each other for many years, brought together back in the days when blogging was actually popular and people actually read them, before micro-attention spans became the norm. His own, like so many, has fallen by the wayside, but like me he continues to follow those few that soldier on. He wondered how I managed to continue to write, a topic I've covered here before, the answer being that it is as much for myself as for anyone else. Perhaps chiefly for my own benefit in fact, which is probably a good thing when you look at the stats. Mrs L joked that I should start all future posts with "Dear Alan", and I may yet do so. We had a good old natter about birding, birds, Fife, Northumberland, London, people, work, writing, travel, cycling, America, childen, and probably a few other things too. And of course it all felt completely natural - I'll try and keep in touch. Thanks for the tea!

We carried on north, past Chibburn Links, East Chevington and Low Hauxley before gliding into Amble for lunch. We shared fish and chips from the Harbour Fish Bar and very nice it was too. I would have ordered a large one but that was an extra seven minutes wait so I settled for medium. It was a like a battered Humpback Whale on an Ayer's Rock of chips, God only knows how big a large one would have been, and we couldn't finish it. Fish and chips is something that I very occasionally have a real hankering for, as was the case now, but once I get through about half of it I don't want to see or think about fish and chips again for several months. That's me done for 2025 I reckon. We ate it down by the RNLI station and looked at the harbour one way and Warkworth Castle the other. This is the life.

A quick stop to look for small Curlews

Amble

Carrying on we went past the castle. I saw some Shelduck and heard a Kingfisher on the River Coquet here. Eventually we reached Alnmouth and Boulmer, and at Longhoughton Steel (where the PGP had been) we stopped for some tea from our flasks and felt very middle aged. I had wanted to spend more time scanning the shore here but it wasn't long before the haar rolled in and we were in the mist. Onwards then, along an unpaved track to Howick Burn. It was about here that I questioned why we hadn't heard Yellowhammer yet, and right on cue two appeared and from then on their song never left us. A Rock Pipit was on the beach.

Billy has the Farnes all sewn up

Seahouses

Embleton followed by our final destination for the day, Seahouses. It was packed with day-trippers and holiday makers, lots of people coming off Farne Island boats. Hopefully they saw some Puffins this late in the season and got pecked on the head by Arctic Terns. We had done fully 50 miles today and I was feeling all of them, but at least we were dry. We sorted ourselves out at the B&B down the road, had a nice walk along the harbour, and then went for dinner. Pizza, another north-east classic.

Starlings at Seahouses

Geeb

A flight of Whimbrel

Inner Farne

The following morning we set off for Eyemouth. First up Bamburgh Castle, slightly west of which I was forced to stop for a singing Grasshopper Warbler. Constant stopping upon hearing or seeing something was a regular feature of this trip and resulted in over 80 individual eBird checklists being submitted. The only Mistle Thrush of the trip were near here and I stopped for those too. And for a Spotted Flyctacher near Kettleburn Farm... If this drove Mrs L to distraction for the most part she was very forgiving, stopping a short while later when she realised I was no longer behind her. Mind you this was only day two, and by day five I detected more of a frisson in the air, more angst, and an increased desire to move me along.

Bamburgh Castle

Goswick

Cocklawburn (I think)

Er, the North Sea

We crossed the A1 shortly after this and were faced with a killer hiller into Belford. I got off and pushed, everyone has a breaking point. We then tracked inland with wonderful views of The Farnes, Bamburgh and Lindisfarne. This is probably the section that gives rise to the "Coast and Castles" moniker, but for such a famous stretch parts of the route weren't much to write home about. At one stage we had to cycle through a field, albeit a good birdy field, and then the very final stretch into Berwick was rather lumpy. Lovely views but I really wanted a nice paved bit as I had to spend a lot of the time looking at what my front wheel was about to hit rather than taking in the wonderful scenery. I am probably wrong but I wondered if there was a "get orf my land" recalcitrant farmer along here somewhere. We had a late lunch in Berwick looking out over the estuary with views of Mute Swans and Goosanders, and after that climbed another seemingly endless hill from the A1 before we crossed into Scotland. Which is where this post ends. I would later discover that I had taken my Northumberland list from 65 to 96 simply by going on a long bike ride. Nice.

Berwick-upon-Tweed