Nothing to See Here…
Unusually there was no particular plan for this day, but since I was in the north east I decided on a leisurely drive up the coast to search out a bit of mining heritage – if anywhere in the UK has something to offer it’s got to be here, right? So armed with an old school AA road map and with the intention of a chilled see-what-we-find outlook on things, I hit the road with a non-member in the hazy May sunshine.
Heading north east out of Durham we stopped off at a desolate pub on the A181 that seemingly had enough tables set out to cater for at least a hundred cover lunch. The unabashed optimism flew in the face of the empty car park to the front as we were the first and only customers in there. Always keen to talk to locals about their heritage I asked the kindly old bartender what he knew of the old coal industry and whatever might be left. Initially he seemed rather lost for words - as though it was some great unspoken thing in these parts, or else nobody had taken an interest before. But he soon delved into the recesses of his memory and found the enthusiasm to inform us of all that had been nearby before pointing out various nature reserves in the near vicinity. This wasn’t what we had in mind at all so we enjoyed the pleasantries before carrying on our way. The map was littered with place names such as Blackhall Colliery and Shotton Colliery so surely there would be something of interest… There wasn’t. The colliery towns were all conspicuous by the absence of anything resembling an actual colliery.
Further up the coast we reached Easington Colliery, once dominated by its headstocks but like so many other settlements that grew up on coal, in the post-industrial landscape the place was virtually devoid of any reason for being, an air stillness and uncertainty hanging over the town like a perpetual North Sea mist. But this is mining country I thought to myself – there has to be something left… Well, there’s a memorial garden, and there’s a pit cage planted monolith-like on a mound near to the capped shaft that almost succeeds in hiding the sole purpose of Easington’s being…
I had no real reason to come here. Few ever did unless they were on pit business. But wandering round and trying to fit the pieces together in my mind it became apparent just how much of this huge part of British industrial history has almost completely vanished from the face of the land.
North of the Tyne at least I knew there was something to see in the shape of the pit head baths at Lynemouth, a location I set out to explore last year but had to abandon owing to a wind turbine being assembled on the site. En-route is Ellingham, another town conspicuous by the absence of its heart. The miners statue here at least had a bit more about it than the all-too-common half-submerged wheel in concrete but it still seemed lost against a backdrop of a wasteland hemmed in by palisade fencing.
Pit Head Baths, Lynemouth Colliery
Sadly the buildings have been ransacked over recent years, all of the metal and the lockers have gone and the rest of the building pretty thoroughly smashed up. Work has been undertaken to concrete block up all road facing apertures and secure the building, the site being cleared of much of what was left in the process. But in early 2014 the site owner submitted a planning application for the building’s demolition citing a health and safety risk and no alternative use for the structure – a plan backed by Lynemouth Parish Council. English Heritage on the other hand felt that buildings of such a listing should only be demolished in exceptional circumstances and opposed the plan on account of the applicant’s insufficient reasoning, feeling that even without the interior the strong geometrics of the design were reason enough to block it. The application was refused in April 2014.
Exterior:
The Locker Room – without the lockers:
Rows of shower stalls obliterated
The part glazed roof allowed the maximum natural light into the windowless shower rooms...
Light fitting: One of very few fixtures actually left in situ:
There was actually some very nice detailing in the tiled rooms, and on what was left of the stalls.
You can see how it could have been an asset of a listed building…
On leaving Lynemouth I suddenly caught sight of some head gear through the trees and excitedly headed for what turned out to be the Mining Museum.
It was closed...
If you made it this far through my ramblings - thanks for sticking with it
