Bamburgh

Another beautiful place with great history near us (there are a lot!) is Bamburgh. I worked in one of the hotels here before, during and after university. I also spent some time living here just after Theo was born. I'd never been a huge fan of Bamburgh given that when Summer comes, the tourists descend and the village turns into anarchic chaos (seriously, though, what is it with tourists that render them incapable of following even basic road safety rules?), but in the quieter months it really is a peaceful and serene place to be. I'd often bundle Theo up in a skisuit and take him for a walk in the pushchair or backpack just to marvel at the silky-blue waters lapping at the freezing sand on calmer days.



Of course, now it's Summer and the beach is busy once again, but I know a few quieter spots that are good for picnics and collecting shells. Theo wasn't too keen on dipping his toes into the sea unless I was holding his hand, but he loved the rocks. I remember feeling much like a goat when I was younger, bounding over the jagged outcrops quickly and surely - but I was no match for Theo. He climbed and climbed with little sense of fear and would have happily spent all day foraging and climbing if the tide hadn't already covered the vast majority of the rockpools.