Our Time on the Holy Island Causeway
The Road to an Island
There are more dramatic roads in Northumberland.
There are certainly longer ones.
But there can't be many where checking the timetable is the difference between driving home and waiting several hours for the North Sea to give the road back.
The first time we crossed, in August, we were part of a procession of cars heading towards Holy Island.
This time was different.
The road ahead was almost completely empty.
“Summer's over,” I said to Lucy as we glided across.
On either side were huge expanses of sand, mud and shallow water, with that enormous Northumberland sky above us.
I remember wondering how often you have to resurface a road that spends part of every day underwater.
What Lucy Didn't Know
I'd planned our arrival rather carefully.
Lucy thought I'd simply chosen a quieter day.
What I hadn't mentioned was that our safe crossing window was about to close.
By the time we'd parked and wandered into the village, the tide would be coming in behind us.
We weren't going anywhere for several hours.
I thought this sounded rather romantic.
Lucy discovered my little plan somewhat later.
“Are we stranded?”
“Yes.”
Apparently stranded and romantic aren't interchangeable words.
When the Road Disappears
Later, looking back towards the mainland, the causeway we'd driven across simply wasn't there anymore.
That's the thing photographs don't quite convey.
The tide doesn't merely make the road a little wet.
The sea takes it.
Holy Island becomes an island again.
And strangely, that's when we liked Lindisfarne most.
The day visitors disappeared, the lanes emptied and everything became quieter.
For a few hours there was no decision about when to leave.
We couldn't.
Waiting for the Sea
Eventually we returned to the causeway and waited.
Lucy, Meg and me, watching the water retreat and the familiar strip of tarmac slowly return.
After everything that had happened that afternoon, I think Lucy was rather pleased to see it.
I certainly was.
There's something wonderfully peculiar about waiting for the sea to decide when you're allowed home.
Heather & Sand verdict: Don't think of the Holy Island Causeway simply as the road to Lindisfarne. It's part of the visit. Plan around the tide, never take chances with the crossing times and, if your day allows, experience Holy Island while the road is underwater. Getting cut off from the mainland — deliberately — might just show you the island at its best.
Read the full story from our visit: Where Is Everybody? — A Strange Afternoon on Holy Island
