Heysham, Sunderland Point, Morecambe and Carnforth 19th September 2021
It’s the 19th September and I have recovered my composure after yesterdays truncated adventure from Blackpool to Fleetwood. It is time to move on from that episode, so we have decided to put some physical and psychological distance between ourselves and the Fylde peninsular. Today we are going to cycle the stretch of coastline north of the River Lune, taking in the towns of Morecambe, Heysham and Carnforth. Of course nothing is simple on these expeditions and the route as-ever is dictated by the availability of transport.
An hour or so’s drive brings us to Carnforth, by way of the M6. Parking the car at Carnforth Station will enable us to catch a train to Heysham (via Lancaster and Morecambe), from where our plans are to cycle south along the coast to Sunderland Point, before returning to Heysham and then north up the coast to Morecambe, Hest Bank, Bolton-le-Sands and Carnforth.
Carnforth has a familiar ring to it. The station has an old-fashioned look to it, the way that stations everywhere would have looked in the mid-20th Century – all local stone, slate roofs and original sash-windows. As we approach the building next to the car park, we are directed to pass under the main West Coast Line to a second building beyond. It is then that the penny drops, when a sign informs us that 2020 marked 75 years since the classic 1945 film “Brief Encounter” was filmed here.
Unfortunately the second building, the one used for the film, is locked-up – a casualty of the Covid pandemic. Nonetheless, camera in hand, I have time before the arrival of our train, to poke around to see how much of the building I can match to the 1945 film set. I recognise some of the internal layout of the cafe, although I suspect the original cafe was more likely to have been a set created in a studio somewhere. Most of the outside shots of the station were after dark. Still, peeking through windows I feel a sense of going back 76 years and wonder if the ghost of Trevor Howard (Alec Harvey) ever walks by in the hope of rekindling his affair with Celia Johnson (Laura Jesson).
Carnforth Station – local stone, slate roof and sash-windows
The building used by David Lean for Brief Encounter.
The Brief Encounters station bar sadly moth-balled due to Covid
Brief Encounter – A Steamy Scene at Carnforth Railway Station
Before I can become overwrought with nostalgic excitement, our two-carriage train chugs into the station to pick-up a hand-full of passengers. I wonder how many climb aboard during a normal summer holiday period? Not many I suspect.
I am not normally a man excited by trains, but I love being one of only a few passengers getting-on a train to nowhere. On our travels we have caught the train at similar places such as Swale Halt in Kent and Doleham Halt in East Sussex – apparently the least used station in Sussex. The guard at Doleham was so surprised to see anyone get on, that he remarked “You are the first people to get on here this week”.
It only takes the train a few minutes to reach Lancaster; a few more to Bare Lane – which I suspect no-one has ever got off at; then on to Morecambe – where a family of four alight for a day at the seaside – and then finally, at Heysham Port a man and a woman alight with bikes 49 minutes after departing from Carnforth.
Our 2-carriage Train Arrives at Heysham Port
Checking out Heysham Port, it turns out that there are quite a few sailing to Eire, Northern Ireland and The Isle of Man, but you are likely to have to fork-out several hundred pounds for the privileged. Then of course you are probably driving a 15 metre long articulated lorry carrying freight.
Departing Heysham ghost station we cycle across an empty car park and discover a mysterious road, which we can’t resist exploring. The road takes us between the port and Heysham Nuclear Power Station to a small stretch of sea front – perhaps no more than 100 feet long. I can see that today is going to be all about being off the beaten track.
In front of us is what appears to be a large turning area for ferries to manoeuvre. I doubt this viewing area is much used, other than by sea gulls and glue-sniffers. There is an unguarded sheer drop some 50 feet down to sea level, which makes me feel a little giddy. Through a chain-link fence we get our only sight of ferries being loaded . The docks are evidently awaiting development and look bleak and uninviting under the grey September sky. As a light rain starts to fall we grab a few photos of our hidden wharf and decide to make our way out of the port area.
1) Open gates invite explorers like Alice down a rabbit hole (docks to right/nuclear power station left)
2) Manoeuvring area for Heysham Ferries
3) Heysham Port – two ferries await departure, whilst the port looks ready for redevelopment
4) Heysham Nuclear Power Station
5) The one ray of sunshine on a grey day
We take the main road out as far as Money Close Lane. This quiet back road takes us down the other side of the Nuclear Power Station and we have the overwhelming feeling that we have strayed into a forbidden place. No-one is about, just us accompanied by the sinister out-gasings of the Nuclear Power Station. At the bottom of the lane we encounter a large holiday park. It would appear that perhaps a thousand holiday-makers at a time choose to be herded into the massed ranks of static caravans that populate this place. We love touring with a caravan, but places like this are anathema to us. It is the oddest place to take a holiday, sandwiched between the barbed wire of a nuclear power station and the dubious charms of a sewage farm. However, I confess that the views across Morecambe Bay are epic.
Heysham Port from the air
Not convinced that this isn’t a dead-end I check my OS map. Sure enough, there is a public right of way marked connecting the holiday park to Carr Lane at Middleton. Feeling just a little like trespassers, but bolstered by the legal document in my hand (Ordnance Survey map), we enter the holiday park and cycle round in ever decreasing circles in an attempt to find the increasingly mythical footpath. There are not many people holidaying at present – unless they are all out at the beach or hiding in their caravans. A couple of kids are cycling around, who probably should be at school (doubtless their parents claimed they were taking them out of school, for fear of them catching Covid). I can hear a small voice in my ear saying “getting warmer, getting warmer”, but we decide to cheat and ask a nice little chap if he knows where the footpath is. We are in luck, he does. Following his accurately explained directions, we find the cleverly concealed path, which is a little rough but manageable by bike. This takes us alongside a mishmash of industrial premises before spewing us out on Carr Lane. I confess to feeling ecstatic, as though we had found The Source of the Nile.
Later investigations, using Google Maps, suggests that we missed a bit of coastline. Had we taken a different turn in the holiday park we would have emerged at a small strip of sand/pebbles, from which we might have found our way to the South Jetty. Perhaps that’s one to tick off next time we are passing through the area? Typically port areas have interesting little bits just aching to be explored, but equally they can often be restricted in their accessibility.
Cleverly concealed footpath from the Holiday Park to Carr Lane and Aerial View of Heysham Port
From our junction with Carr Lane (a carr is a wet woodland dominated by alder or willow) it is but a short ride along blessedly smooth tarmac to the coast at Potts Corner. The coast here presents quite a bleak vista on an overcast day. The grey cloudy sky seems to merge with the acres of mud that spread before us. Where the mud gives way to the land is a narrow strip of beach, largely dominated by shingle and a strip of salt marsh.
An interpretative board advises us that we are likely to see a range of shore birds such as Dunlin, Knott and Bar-tailed Godwit, but without our binoculars we have little chance of telling one from the others. However, the powers-that-be have seen fit to add a nice metal outline of a wader. Alas despite the aesthetic qualities of the bird in question, I am non-the-wiser as to which species it is.
From here south to Sunderland Point the sea-shore is dominated by salt-marsh, the upper-shore cousin of mud flats. All is grey green at this time of year, although lots more colour is available in June, July and August for those of a botanical leaning, when sea lavender and sea aster add purple and yellow to nature’s palette.
The only other thing of note today is a man of middle years and what I assume to be his two sons. The elder teenage son is bombing backwards and forwards along a rough track, showing his younger sibling how to ride a dirt bike. He is not so much showing him how to ride it, but more how cool he is as he bumps over the potholes and stones of the track.
As a grumpy old man I don’t enjoy sharing a track with a dirt bike in the hands of a rider of questionable skill and even more questionable safety awareness, but it seems we have no choice. The track is not actually the bridleway marked on the map, so he is not breaking the law as far as I can see. In fact the father may well own this area, or have grazing rights. So mind your own business Billy-boy.
Three or four hundred metres further and we get onto the salt marsh proper, leaving our teenage decibel manufacturer to his solitary motoring. Now the salt marsh takes on its typical wild state – bleak, windy, grey-green and silent. Fortunately for us it is low tide, so our path is not blocked and before long we find the path we are seeking, which will take us down ‘The Lane’ to the tiny isolated settlement of Sunderland. At the gate we meet a family who are emerging from a fenced-off area of grassland. We exchange a few polite words and they suggest we might find it of interest.
This is evidently a newly created space for the benefit of walkers and wildlife lovers. Firstly, we find a strange stone igloo. Apparently there is a camera-obscura hidden within. For those unfamiliar with this piece of equipment, it is a glass lens buried in the wall, which lets light through. With the door fully closed it is possible to sea Morecambe Bay projected on the opposite wall. It is not a very clear image and it is upside-down. Still on a sunny day I’m sure it is clearer. Interesting to 17th Century folk, when they were all the rage, but not quite modern-day Odeon material.
A bird hide has also been erected on-site, giving excellent views across the bay, although without binoculars we find little use for it, other than a sheltered location to sneak a snack. The most interesting find however, is Sambo’s Grave.
Sambo was a generic name for African-American slaves. Sambo’s Grave has been here since the 18th Century. He would probably have been a cabin-boy onboard one of the many ships which docked at Sunderland Point. A low stone wall surrounds his grave’s marking stone, which has an inscribed plaque mounted upon it. Local school children leave flowers and painted pebbles regularly. It is a touching story, explained in the accompanying interpretative board.
Metal Wader – artistic but of limited value for bird identification, Dirt Track through the Salt Marsh (trail-bikes for the use of) and Extensive Salt Marsh towards Sunderland Point (most of it is obviously grazed to a short turf by local cattle or sheep)
Camera Obscura hidden within a stone ‘igloo’, The weak, inverted (and back-to-front) image projected inside the camera obscura and Sambo’s Grave
The Lane takes us by way of its uneven surface as far as the village of Sunderland on the east side of Sunderland Point. Here we find a row of terraced houses overlooking the River Lune. In the 18th Century Lancaster was an important port, but ships were already getting too big to get up the tidal River Lune. They would have tied-up here and offloaded cargoes onto smaller boats able to navigate the shallow waters upstream. The overwhelming impression is of a mud-scape. WE are fortunate not to be here a few hours earlier, since our passage would have been blocked. The houses on the river front were probably built over 100 years ago, but now risk significant sea flooding as global sea levels rise – hence the addition of flood barriers across the doorways.
We decide against cycling to Sunderland Point, heading along the road upstream. It soon becomes evident that Sunderland is a tidal settlement, inaccessible at High Tide. A rather plump, elderly gentleman (and his thin wife) sits at the wheel of his classic Morgan sports car contemplating the scenery, the car’s engine still running.
His wife greets us with “I thought we were mad, but fancy coming here on bikes!” She is evidently in awe of us.
Hubby has doubtless had enough of the mud and she is instructed to return to the car with a piup of his horn. She is immediately whisked-away to a cleaner location which won’t mess up his nice clean floor mats. The causeway they follow is flanked by warning signs regarding the tidal nature of the access. Confident we are safe, we likewise head north. This ribbon of tarmac snakes between salt marsh, slick brown mud and deeply incised creeks, which will be covered in another 6 hours. Tidal areas such as this are other-worldly, constantly changing as the moon moves across the sky.
About a mile of cycling brings us out at Overton, where a man-made earth wall protects the lower-lying properties from inundation by the sea. Here we find a suitable bench to sit on and enjoy our sandwiches before returning to Heysham by way of Middleton and the A589.
Looking south from Sunderland village towards Sunderland Point and “Front doors at Sunderland are sealed at High Tide”
Mud-shrouded causeway to Overton and The Globe pub, Overton – looking like a victim of the pandemic
From Heysham we now have to follow the coast north, taking a few minutes to check-out the north side of the docks. Other than the 1904 stone-built Near Naze Lighthouse and the base of its metal former partner, we quickly ascertain that there is little of interest to be seen here – other than a tightly locked docks gate. A couple of cyclists attracts the attention of a passing police car, giving Betty an excuse to engage in chat with the woman police-officer in the passenger seat. Convinced that we are not likely to hijack the 14.20 to Dublin, they speed off, leaving us to continue our journey.
A short cycle takes us up to The Half Moon Bay Cafe, which overlooks Half Moon Bay. From here we opt for sticking to the road past Upper Heysham and then down to Lower Heysham. Lower Heysham has a nice ambiance to it, being a pleasant collection of older stone cottages gathered along Main Street, which leads us back to the coast. From here we pick-up a concrete promenade which will provide easy cycling for the next 4 miles along Morecambe sea front.
Manx-bound view of Morecambe Bay from Near Naze on the north side of the Docks, and Near Naze Lighthouses – the right-hand lighthouse was built in 1904. The base of its metal predecessor is to the left
Main Street, Lower Heysham and Cycling heaven as we pedal the smooth, flat, car-free promenade
Despite the presence of tarmac, concrete, cast iron and rip-rap, I am pleased to see that salt-marsh has been permitted to develop adjacent to the sandy beach areas at Sandylands. There is room for nature and sandcastles to exist side-by-side, with children in particular benefiting from both. Perhaps the anti-salt marsh brigade at Hoylake will take note.
On the seafront opposite Regent Road is a memorial to one of Morecambe’s own famous sons. No not Eric, but Commander Charles Gerald Forsberg who between 1957 and 1959 swept the board as far as UK marathon swimming events was concerned. This included the English Channel (World Record), Lake Windermere, Lough Neagh and 29 crossings of Morecambe Bay (though not all at the same time!).
Pedalling along the promenade, our next port of call is The Stone Jetty, built in 1953. The railway came to Morecambe, in part because of the easy access to Ireland by linking up with steamers. These would have tied-up at The Stone Jetty, where Stone Jetty Railway Station only required they take a few steps to climb aboard. Heysham Harbour put an end to all that of course. Now The Stone Jetty Station is a cafe, alas not open today. A cuppa would have gone down nicely.
The Stone Jetty reflects Morecambe’s desire to ‘keep up with the Jones’s’ ( when compared to its neighbours on the Fylde Peninsular) by tastefully decorating it with art works such as cormorant sculptures, a bird labyrinth and thousands of stone paving blocks. The most impressive feature to me is the mass of rip-rap stone blocks which girdle the end of the jetty – to protect it from Irish Sea storms. In just 30 or so years these have become a rocky shore habitat for seaweeds and countless invertebrates sheltering in the deep crevices provided.
Promenade biking is a very gentle and relaxing past-time, as one pootles along observing the sea, the beach, the people and anything else chanced upon. We next pass one of those ubiquitous fun-fairs that all seaside towns require. I came here for a holiday in 1976 and again in 1979 whilst playing in a basketball competition, but time has erased all memory of the place (as was the case with Southport). What few photographs I might have taken in the days of Kodakchrome prints have now been lost, or were just of the face-pulling mates I was with. However failed reminiscing has little to recommend it and there are only so many hours in a day – so it is time to press on.
Areas of salt marsh co-exist with sandy tourist beaches at Sandylands and Memorial to Charles Gerald Forsberg
Morecambe Bay Mud and the Lake District Beyond and The Stone Jetty, where in the 19th Century, steamers would collect rail passengers bound for Ireland
Morecambe and Morecambe Bay from The Stone Jetty and Seaside Amusements – the staple diet of the 21st Century Tourist
To the north of the town, just after Morecambe Golf Club the lovely promenade suddenly stops and we swap the serenity of the trafficless sea front for the A 5105. Fortunately it is only a matter of a half mile before we are able to turn left at ‘The Shore’ – a tarmacked road which takes us to a car park overlooking the bay. This very quickly grinds to a halt at someone’s garage, after which day-trippers and cyclists are treated to a bumpy traverse of rocks, churned up soil, and salt marsh. Its challenging, but quite fun after the ‘zen cycling’ along the prom.
Two hundred yards of this is quite enough though, so we are grateful for the option of turning at Morecambe Lodge Caravan Park along a tarmacked road. Pastures Lane takes us alongside the railway line before returning us to the seashore at Bolton-le-Sands Village. Once again we encounter more challenging passage along the edge of the bay until we arrive at Bay View Holiday Park. We are about to turn back when a very pleasant northern gentleman holds the gate open for us.
“You can go through here.” He confirms.
“What civilised people you are up north,” I comment, “I used to be one once.”
“Once a northerner, always a northerner.” He laughs.
I confess its great to be back home, if only for a while.
The footpath runs through the caravan park, although technically they could probably tell us to get off and walk. Eventually it takes us across the West Coast mainline and back onto the A5105, which thankfully is pavemented all the way to Carnforth. This last bit of the day offered us the most ambiguous route-way, in fact the whole day has been dominated by uncertainty of access, but as it turns out, our passage was untroubled.
All we have to do now is cycle happily along the pavement back to the car. Hoever, there is one last twist. Carnforth Station is just off my map and I neglected to bring the next one north. I make the mistake of turning off towards the station only to find my diversion was a tad premature. We have one last ace up our sleeve – technology, in the shape of Mr Google. With my mobile mounted on my handlebars we find our way through a maze of back-doubles, footpaths, jitty’s and snicketts. You should try it on a bike sometime – it is the closest thing you will get to virtual reality. Google shows the way on the screen and you follow on your bike, twisting and turning, going wherever he says there is a way through. Amazingly he gets it right and we find ourselves back at the car.
Our ‘Brief Encounter’ over, where to tomorrow?
Negotiating the coast path from Hest Bank to Bolton-le-Sands and Negotiating Carnforth – Courtesy of Mr Google.