Amble is the first place of interest, with a population, on your way up the South Northumberland coast. Saying that, what about Blyth or Newbiggin-by-the-Sea or Cresswell?

Amble is the first place of interest, with a population, on your way up the South Northumberland coast. Too small to be thought of as a port and never deep enough for a dock, the fishing fleet has always been fairly so-so and that boat repair yard simply functional.

That was reflected in the town, which while welcoming was, erm, underwhelming. Queen Street serviced the needs of the locals over any visitors, but that was all before the explosion. The explosion?

Only the 'epicurean' explosion of the mid-2010s! It appears, however, to have been quite short lived and was followed by a mini-implosion where you-know-what can't have helped?

While the cookery school and artisan bakery are no more, don't be put off by the bookies and the Turkish Barbers along here, there's enough of a foodie footprint left to get a little bit excited about.

The old Greek philosopher Epicurus posited 'wisdom and culture' over the 'pleasure of the stomach' so epicurean, as an enjoyment of good food and drink, is used in the post-modern sense. That, by the way, is something you too might discover when double-checking the spelling, and the meaning.

On a previous visit, and at the harbour, there was a car boot sale, of sorts, where you could buy 100 metres of tin foil, one of the few commodities that's actually quicker to run than unravel.

It has since been transformed into Amble Harbour Village, a Rural Enterprise-funded operation that brings a slight downside to being a destination for expectant diners.

While it's a thumbs-up to the seasonal, retail 'pods' selling local nosh, Sly is much more of a fan of those peddling hand-crafted jewellery and maritime-themed knick-knacks.

The car boot's still here on a Sunday, but Amble is now, officially, that kind of a place.

Amble you will, naturally, all the way to the end of the pier, nearly.

A blaze in 2017 almost saw to the wooden walkway, but video evidence of three firemen and a big water pistol suggest it was just the local news headline that was really inflamed.

Two piers here and the other one?

That's the wrong side of the River Coquet, and to get there you'll have to march the mile-and-a-half from Warkworth and all of its attractions.

Mid-19th century these breakwaters are, built to provide additional calm for the natural harbour. The other pier has been shortened somewhat by the often choppy North Sea, although neither of them can do much about the occasional tidal surges.

Judging by the fresh seaweed on the concrete back near Bay View Cottages, the last one was around four hours ago.

The pier also protects a small bay, which is the preferred beach provider for many a day-tripper in July.

Just to the south off Links Road and opposite the caravans, though, a much better beach can be found at the northernmost end of Druridge Bay - thanks Antonia .

Druridge Bay is the first place of interest, without a population, on your way up the South Northumberland coast. This spectacular, seven-mile stretch of sand is home to a country park with a visitor centre, herds of Highland Cattle keeping the reed beds in check and a number of small nature reserves.

A pair of boobies and a lesser spotted pecker? Possibly. While most people are simply seeking the seaside, some of it is set aside for nuddyists.

These diverse surroundings would have diversified further when they nearly put a Nuclear Power Station here in the '90s. The objectors won that one but were back 20 years later only this time it was opencast mining, which they went on to win as well.

There's still coal in the Northumberland seams, you see, but for periods of the seemingly endless battle, seven years, actually, the nuclear option might not have seemed such a bad idea?

While the carbon is being commented on, these old staithes were the final port of call for the coal.

The amounts were only ever modest, just serving a single coalfield, they say, but they were in use for more than 100 years and unloaded their last in 1969.

They're now home to three cormorants and a curlew, not shown, and yes, that's walkable Warkworth with its castle in the background.

It's known that you know that wildlife types will say 'cormorant' as in 'We saw three cormorant.' That's a route being roundly refused, it's either... 'Seven sparrows' or... 'A spuggie'!

As for the marina, it's mostly leisure with just a handful of vessels looking used to doing, what is believed to be called, a 'proper shift'.

In fact, all of the town's recent redevelopment has seen to the last of the traditional with the boat repair yard making way for apartment blocks or second homes if you'd rather.

The fleshpot at the entrance has housed at least three operations, the original being born of that epicurean explosion before relocating to Queen Street to replace another highly rated bistro, before closing itself to now be serving up something else.

Phew! It's complicated this, and for a small town with a population in and around of 6,000, there's a revolving dining scene to rival fancy London.

As for the boat repair yard, the only upturned hulls now are those retail pods, whose design they're said to resemble, and the blow torches are being used on the crème brûlées.

Tarry bottom? The name of the new Wetherspoon™s that will inevitably open here next year.