After Bamburgh’s glories, the simplicity of the tiny harbour at Craster made a welcome change. We had brought sandwiches rather than joining the rest of the party for a pub lunch… what little time we had could be used for visiting the church, or so we thought. The church, though, proved to be reluctant to reveal itself, which was a shame as later research showed it to be a tiny place with some beautiful stained glass.
Instead, we sat on the harbour, watching the pebbles move on the shore, or so it seemed as a hundred small birds trawled through the seaweed and stones for their own lunch and oystercatchers explored the shallows.
The little village is now famous for its seafood, but I was more interested in the sea. The sights, sounds and smells of the shore are far from me at home, and this trip would be…
View original post 235 more words