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To be a pilgrim
St Oswald’s Way traces historic sites in Oswald’s defence of Christianity in Britain. As a modern pilgrim, Dixe Wills encounters chocolate cake and an old wooden cross
![]() The harbour at Craster, a village on the road from Lindisfarne to Oswald's battlefield at Heavenfield DIXE WILLS |
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WHAT ROUTES come to mind when thinking of Christian pilgrimages? The Holy Land, perhaps? In the footsteps of St Paul? Or, maybe, a trek to sunny Santiago de Compostela? In these eco-conscious and much straitened times, it is heartening to remember that embarking on a pilgrimage need not involve a trip to the airport, emptying the bank account, or even leaving the country. Take St Oswald’s Way, for example. Starting on Holy Island (Lindisfarne), it hugs the heart-stoppingly beautiful Northumbrian coast before working its way over the Simonside Hills to Hadrian’s Wall. Pilgrims walking the whole of the 97-mile path thus proceed from the island that Oswald (c.604-64), King of Northumbria, donated for the founding of a monastery, to the prospective saint’s royal palace, and to the battlefield on which he secured the future of Christianity in Britain. St Oswald’s Way is divided up into six sections, from north to south. The first section of the walk is also known as Pilgrim’s Way, and it is here that I take off my boots and socks and begin my journey. The opening three miles of St Oswald’s Way is over sand — the crossing between Holy Island and the mainland is possible for several hours a day at low tide.And so here I am, the sunshine sparkling on shallow pools of water as I happily splish-splosh across, contemplating the ruins of the ancient priory I have just seen and making a mental note to pop into the British Library again to feast anew on the Lindisfarne Gospels. |
![]() Above: ambling towards Amble, a fishing town at the mouth of the River Coquet DIXE WILLS |
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For most of the next ten miles, my next port of call is in full view. Raised up on a huge lump of rock, Bamburgh Castle dominates the shoreline, with a brutality undermined only by its fleshy pink tones.
The next morning, refreshed from the sort of sleep that comes only after a day’s vigorous walking, I investigate the stronghold from which Oswald ruled his people in the early 7th century.
Inside, a group of young archaeologists from the Bamburgh Research Project are enthusing about the great find there: the Bamburgh Sword. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” says Maggie, showing me an X-ray that reveals the extraordinary, painstaking work that went into making it.
“And could it have belonged to King Oswald?” I ask, more in naïve hope than expectation.
“Well, it dates from around his era and would certainly have belonged to a king; so it’s not impossible,” Maggie replies. |
![]() The lone and level sands: the crossing from Holy Island to the mainland is a damp one, and is possible only at low tide DIXE WILLS |
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I have always imagined saints to be, well, saintly rather than violent. But, gazing down on the sword in the castle’s museum, I am forced to reflect that the panoply of saints is a broad Church indeed.
Sadly, I cannot indulge in the pilgrims’ practice of paying homage to a holy relic: Oswald’s arm, which used to be kept here encased in silver, has long since disappeared. And his head, which was held by the monks at Holy Island, has also gone missing, apparently while on tour in Germany.
Instead, I content myself with paying a visit to St Oswald’s Chapel in nearby St Aidan’s, the site of a humble wooden place of worship built by the two friends.
The first three days of my six-day journey are thus spent breezily ambling down the coast, enjoying the splendour of the sea and getting distracted by a host of potter-worthy towns and villages. There is Craster, with its snug harbour and breathtakingly good chocolate cake provided by Sally at my B&B; Alnmouth, which fails miserably to live up to John Wesley’s description of it as “a small seaport town famous for its wickedness”; and Warkworth, whose proud castle stars in Shakespeare’s Henry IV.
With more time to spare, I would undoubtedly have taken one of the many boats that sail from Seahouses to the scattering of the tiny Farne Islands, where for many years St Cuthbert somehow scratched out a living as a hermit.
There are times during the second half of the walk when I feel not unlike a hermit myself. For several hours each day, I tramp along without seeing another soul, let alone meeting one — and this in summer.
The path spends a day pursuing the River Coquet before hauling itself up through a gauntlet of cranesbills to a wilderness of heather-clad hills and remote farmlands. The austere beauty adds to the meditative mood brought on by gentle isolation.
This contemplative peace breaks only in the last few miles on the final day: St Oswald’s Way joins the Hadrian’s Wall Path, and the meanderings of the saint give way abruptly to the military precision of the sword-straight wall.
In 634, Oswald and his troops arrived here at Heavenfield hotfoot from Bamburgh to face the pagan Cadwallon. The night before the battle, the king had a cross erected and bade his army pray for success. Victory followed the next day, Christianity triumphed over paganism, and Oswald was on his path to canonisation.
As I stand underneath the tall wooden cross that marks the battlefield, having the obligatory pilgrim’s photo taken for me by a kindly passer-by, I cannot help but ponder on the inconvenient truth that there were Christians fighting on both sides. History, it seems — like spirituality — is messier than we would sometimes like it to be.
Dixe Wills, writing as Johnson P. Johnson, is the author of The Armchair Naturalist (Icon, £7.99).
Travel facts |
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The path is well signposted, but the official guidebook (£11.95) and the outstanding weatherproof maps (£5.95) make excellent companions. Visit www.stoswaldsway.com for details. Cake is available to sustain the faintest pilgrim at Stonecroft B&B, near Craster, which has doubles from £60. Phone Sally on 01665 576433, or visit www.stonecroft-craster.co.uk. Getting there: Single from London to Berwick-upon-Tweed from £14. |







