Newton Point, Northumberland, Summer
Ah haar, there’s a sea fret rolling in.
Early on in our Northumberland break we fancied a hike around Embleton Bay, to shoot photos of the bay’s massive and smooth black basalt boulders with views towards the ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle.
However, plans change. As we neared the bay it became clear (or rather, it didn’t) that a “haar” or sea fret had rolled in off the North Sea, covering the whole Northumberland coastline in thick fog. There were no views to be had of the castle ruins.
Instead, we followed trail—known as St. Oswald’s Way—north, passing through the National Trust village of Low Newton-by-the-Sea towards Newton Point. We ventured with open eyes and mind, which was good because Newton Point was an absolute delight that we no idea about.
Additionally, the haar provided an atmospheric aura to some of my photos, which I’m happy to take.
All photos shot on my Fujifilm X-T2 using my three prime lenses: a Samyang 35mm f/1.2, a Laowa 9mm f/2.8, and an adapted Pentax 55mm f/2.0. Images made 80% in-camera using a customised Velvia film simulation, with minor edits and corrections afterwards in Lightroom and Affinity Photo.
After parking at Embleton, our hopes were high for wonderful scenes of Dunstanburgh Castle.
Alas, no castle could be seen. The haar had covered the whole Northumberland coastline in a thick fog. Nevertheless, to get to Embleton Bay and the trail from Embleton Village, you have to pass through Dunstanburgh Castle Golf Club. There’s a lot of golf around the Northumberland coast.
Above Embleton Bay, near the Embleton Links golf course, there’s a whole bunch of “beach chalets” or, more accurately, bungalows that sit on National Trust land. On a clear sunny day I’ve no doubt they look adorable and inviting. With the sea fret rolled in, the bungalows presented a more foreboding presence.
Spooky. Zombie film, anyone?
A way down to the sands of Embleton Bay, but my eye was caught by the people walking along the beach, appearing like ghosts as the haar rolled in off the sea.
We close in on the charming village of Low-Newton-by-the-Sea, an old fishing village now almost totally owned by the National Trust.
The village is known for its cream white cottages and open square, with the 18th-century Ship Inn pub right in the middle. A charming place.
North of the village we break away from St. Oswald’s Way and take the private road east towards the coastline, curious to see what was here.
What we found was a coastline of bloom flowers, lichen and moss, and volcanic black boulders everywhere. With the haar in place, the area appeared to me magical and surreal.
Clints and grikes of volcanic basalt rock provided lovely textures and lines for playing around with compositions.
With my ultra-wide 9mm lens, I was able to render some more unusual compositions around here by getting really low and intimate with some of the small channels carved into the rock.
Blossoming flowers and weeds everywhere gave me more opportunities for interesting photos.
The headland of Newton Point houses a former LORAN (long range navigation) station from the Cold War era. Spooky.
We followed the eastern edge of Newton Point around to its northern side, and then—BOOM. This view and these cliffs. We had no idea they were here.
Not massive cliffs by all means, but shapely and beautiful nevertheless.
Columns of dark volcanic basalt stand as a fortress against the unrelenting sea.
The North Sea around here was wonderfully clear and azure. This made it awfully tempting for Lisabet to go for a swim.
Grass and lichen provide gorgeous colour contrast against the azure water and blue fog.
Fantastic colours and views.
From Newton Point we dropped down to the beach northwards known, interestingly, as Football Hole.
The retreating tide left behind these following lines and curves that I had to make a composition of.
The dunes around Snook Point make for some lovely views. At this point the sun even threatened to break through the haar.
Sand dunes that seemingly go on forever…
A beautiful blossom of Geranium sanguineum, otherwise known as bloody crane’s-bill. Also the national flower of Northumberland!
On our way back, the haar was finally starting to burn off courtesy of the midday summer sun. In the distance, cows graze peaceful near a pond.