A Familiar Place
You might not know its name, but you’ve probably seen Bamburgh Castle in a movie or on a television program. It is in Northumberland in England, about an hour’s drive north of Newcastle upon Tyne but it would be a more enjoyable drive to spend the extra half hour and avoid the motorway for the scenic coastal route through Alnmouth and Seahouses.
Unthanks Connection
One of my favourite bands from Northumberland, The Unthanks, used to do regular singing weekends at Seahouses. These weekends sounded wonderful. You would spend the weekend with the band singing traditional folk music. The workshops were led by the Unthank sisters, Becky and Rachel and catering was provided by keyboardist and producer, Adrian. If you haven’t heard this band, look them up. They’re fabulous. One of my favourite albums of theirs is a live concert where they covered the music of Robert Wyatt and Antony Hegarty (Antony and the Johnsons) and another, also in their Diversions series, is an album they did with the Brighouse and Rastrick Brass Band. You can watch a clip of the band here.
Lindisfarne
If you are at Bamburgh on a clear day, you can Lindisfarne up to the north on the skyline. The monastery at Lindisfarne was established in 634 and is now in ruins having been destroyed over many years of Viking raids. Lindisfarne Castle was built in 1550 and is a prominent landmark.
I wrote the following poem after my visit to Bamburgh Castle some years ago.
Bamburgh
Further along the coast, even now at midday
Holy Island is fog obscured.
The land is sheeted white,
the gulls and terns at Bamburgh
call from battlements like hungry ghosts,
their brief cries vanishing into the mist.
Below, the village busies itself in the
way of villages here along this coast
– locals eyeing the tourists
The tourists eye the locals back
and the dogs make friends with everyone.
Above, the castle hides itself within the fog,
the waves break, heard but not seen, on the beach.
Northumberland wraps me up like a coat
that’s heavy and damp with meaning.
Rolling, tumbling, whispering wraiths
from Lindisfarne to Seahouses
that echo time that is not time,
mist that is not mist,
birdsong, shanties or matins bells,
but is, upon the rocks,
a prayer of silence.