Growing up in close to Manchester in the industrial North West, I guess my first recollection of Northumberland was hearing of the famous Charlton’s of Ashington. It seemed a dour place, more redolent of industrial hardship and Billy Elliott than anything. Indeed, in his autobiography Sir Bobby tells of enjoying playing schools football for Bedlington Grammar because the post match meals were better than those he was getting at home! But of course the past is another country; they do things differently there…
Wind forward some forty or so years and my affection transferred from Football to Golf and my first real golfing partner was a son of Morpeth, who had settled for work reasons in Manchester. Yet he always spoke fondly of home. Eventually we made the journey North together to play a couple of rounds and for him to proudly introduce me to East Northumberland. My pal’s mother lived in Morpeth, but we lodged with his close friend and amateur Northumbrian golf legend Sandy at his home in Pegswood (Sandy’s wife and child were away). I hadn’t ventured North of Newcastle before, and trips to Scotland from the North West were always via Cumbria, so this was new territory.
The weather that weekend was glorious. April warmth and perfect sunshine made our hour long trip to play an Open Competition at the Roxburgh, Kelso a wonderful journey in itself. The countryside was stunningly beautiful, and its role as border country brought home. Less wild than the West coast roads, more ordered, more scenic and all the better for it. The trip back in late afternoon sunshine brought home the glory of these surroundings. We spent the evening in Morpeth, visiting the superb pubs and bars in this pleasant, historic market town and enjoying a Chinese banquet too. A sporty gang, I was told of fierce local rivalries against Scottish opposition. Their pride in their home county was clear. Why, the place was so magical that even Harry Potter had been filmed at Alnwick!
Their evangelism appeared to grow at the sight of this willing convert. So the following morning we drove to the coast at Seahouses for a breakfast fry-up before they took me onwards to Bamburgh. The castle looked spectacular. Who were the Kings that built such a magnificent place? When did they do it and why didn’t I know about it? I was told of the heroism of Grace Darling and shown Holy Island (admittedly more of a fixture in my school history books). These experienced and well travelled golfers took me to Bamburgh Golf Club, which they said was their favourite and though we couldn’t book a tee, we took photos to record the trip with the superb beach and castle as our background.
For Golf that day we travelled a few miles north to Goswick Links, like Northumberland itself this is a hidden gem. From 2008 the course had become an Open Qualifier and no wonder. This was a pure golfing venue with superb greens. I was told the Goswick greenkeeper George Thompson was so highly regarded he was drafted in annually by the Royal and Ancient to prepare the courses for the Open Championship. Indeed, there was photograph of him in the Club House, head down and mowing a green at an Open venue with Tiger Woods in the foreground playing his practice round.
Modest – understated - excellent, for me this image was a metaphor for Northumberland itself. Whatever they taught Harry at Hogwarts, it would still fail to match the magic of this spectacularly beautiful part of England.
Guest Blog post by Michael Sweeney
