Vogue On The Road: A Trip To The Holy Island Of Lindisfarne In The …
Northumberland is a place where the North Sea attacks the shoreline, sending the earth crashing into the waves – a place that bears the marks of centuries of assaults by Normans and Vikings, not to mention the myriad wars that England and Scotland waged against one another through the centuries, leaving the cliffs between Newcastle and Berwick-upon-Tweed studded with forts and castles. And yet Northumberland is, conversely, a deeply spiritual place, and the home of Lindisfarne[1], a centre of worship since at least the 7th century AD. There is much, therefore, to explore on a sustainable escape to this beguiling corner of northeast England, and the only suitable car for such an immersive experience in nature is an electric one.
We collected our Mercedes EQS SUV, the brand’s flagship electric car, in Edinburgh[2]. It is a beast of a vehicle – huge inside and out – but appears smaller than it is; it’s not a boxy SUV but rather a streamlined blob of curving metal and glass. The echoing boot and acres of space in the back come as a pleasant surprise. So, too, does the range, which factors in at around 300 miles, if you’re not too aggressive on the accelerator. That’s more than enough for peace of mind: on any journey that length, you’d need to stop for a break anyway.
We eased silently out of Edinburgh, rain drumming on the roof, Madonna[3] on the Burmester stereo, ambient lighting set to a warming orange/red glow (from the 64 colours on offer). This is a very cosy, reassuring car in wild weather. More reassuring still is the fact that, even with the heated seats and heated steering wheel on, the range doesn’t noticeably dip. There is a huge battery on board, capable of soaking up the demands on it, which is just as well, because this is also a reassuringly expensive car. In return for the price, you get – among many other things – the softest leather (leather is better for the environment than many vegan alternatives that use plastic, as it is nearly always a waste product of the beef industry when used in cars), and a carved grey wood adorning the dash.
From Edinburgh, we streamed down the A1 and across the border into England just outside Berwick, peeling off to the left at the sign for the Holy Island of Lindisfarne. Scary warnings everywhere warn about the tides, and advise about the last possible moment when it’s safe to cross over from the mainland (the sea swallows up the causeway twice a day). It does feel like a mad dash; the road is covered in sand and seaweed, the rushing water never far away, and there are whitewashed refuge huts on stilts for those caught unawares.
Once you make it to Holy Island, there’s an incredible lookout tower, with views of the 16th-century Lindisfarne Castle surrounded by a Gertrude Jekyll garden. You can’t help but be affected by the sight, no matter your spiritual leanings. We stood and breathed in the salty silence. Then we realised the time, and made the crazy dash back across the causeway in our stealthy electric ship, the waves lapping at the tyres.