The 'Old Crones' tackle Northumberland's 100-mile Saint Oswald's Way

"Walked six miles this morning" BordersCrone messaged a few weeks before our proposed hike, "and I'm completely knackered." "My podiatrist told me I should abstain for five weeks," BucksCrone replied, "but it'll be fine." DevonCrone's hip hurts (that's me) but she decided not to say anything. After all, the die was cast with the three Old Crones committed to covering the 97 miles of St Oswald's Way in Northumberland.

As a group of friends - two octogenarians plus a 78 year old – we keep each other motivated for our weekly Saturday parkruns, but that would be a lot harder. We had no intention of getting so old before we tackled it: 2019 was the plan but then came lockdown. We enlisted the help of Mickledore Holidays to produce a not too strenuous itinerary for us and sort out accommodation. The longest day was supposed to be 11 miles, which we thought we could manage. Right.

Saint Oswald's path starts at Lindisfarne (holy island) and joins Hadrian's Wall route on the last day. Beautifully scenic and varied, it follows the Northumberland coast past two ruined castles, then swings inland along the River Coquet to the historic town of Rothbury, through Northumberland National Park and in the terrible forest of Harwood, from where you may or may not emerge to complete the march in a few days.

Lindisfarne reminded me of Lundy, where day visitors are known as bluebottles because they buzz, buzz, then buzz at the stop. Here they are controlled by the tides and most cross the causeway at low tide in the morning and return in the afternoon. Those lucky enough to stay overnight, as we did, have l 'place more or less for them, and there is plenty to see.The castle, defensive for many centuries but modernized by Edwin Lutyens in the early 1900s, provides a dramatic backdrop to the Gertrude Jekyll garden, designed by the friend of the architect to replace the original vegetables with flowers Truly ancient, the ruined 11th-century priory, whose sandstone took the form of 'Henry Moore.

The first day's walk was enough for us to doubt the wisdom of this undertaking, called the Pilgrim's Way and supposedly a three-mile walk to through the sands. We battled a brisk headwind as our bare feet grumbled against the rippling sand, mini streams, and ankle-deep black mud. But there were distant sights of gray seals and a shifting tide of sanderlings streaming over the shallows. We stayed in a pub in Lowick. The next day, while looking for red squirrels in Kyloe Woods, we encountered two rangers who advised us not to take the official path through the trees because "it's swampy and you'll trip". So we took more time, safely...