Kielder is the remotest spot in UK’s cash desert

Kielder in Northumberland has the dubious honor of being the British village furthest from an ATM. Residents of this picturesque community, which is just three miles south of the English/Scottish border, must travel 18 miles to reach the nearest free ATM at a co-op shop in the village of Bellingham.

A round trip by car on the winding roads can take two hours or more. Those who rely on public transportation face an even bigger battle.

Reaching a bank is more challenging. Bellingham once had three branches – a Lloyds, Barclays and TSB – but these have closed in recent years, leaving Kielder residents no choice but to travel to Hexham, 30 miles away, to reach a branch. Kielder may seem like an extreme example. Yet it offers a glimpse into the future of thousands of communities in the UK, which are in danger of turning into money deserts with no access to physical money.

The fact is that banks are sending us into a cashless society as they close more and more branches and ATMs. The number of major banks has halved over the past eight years — and another 263 are slated to close this year.

As the banks flee, they rip out their ATMs as well. Nearly a third of ATMs have been stripped down in the same period, amounting to more than 20,000.

Kielder parish council chairman Dick Graham shakes his head in disbelief at how banks have let communities down without any accountability.

The 69-year-old retired Forestry Commission employee says: ‘Banks spend millions on publicity and claim they are there to support us, but the truth is they just want to squeeze us out of every penny we have.

“Doing away with branches and ATMs, forcing people to spend with cards instead of cash, will only increase their profits.”

The money network organization Link claims that banking hubs where a number of different banks share the same premises could be a solution for residents of Kielder and Bellingham.

While there are 34 such hubs in the pipeline across the country, only four have actually opened. Branch closures progress as bank hubs open at a snail’s pace.

Graham adds: ‘Hords of tourists come to enjoy our rural location but struggle to get cash. An ATM or a visit to the mobile bank could be a solution for our village.’

To the ATM

Driving is by far the easiest option to get from Kielder to Bellingham – although even this can take up to an hour as the weather approaches. Meanwhile, a return journey to Hexham can take three hours or more on difficult lanes. Being in Kielder without a car, I inquire about a taxi instead. But the return journey will cost me £120 – a huge sum for anyone’s budget and hardly practical when the ATM limit is only £250.

Then I look at public transport. Jeannette Barron, 63, a resident of Kielder, tells me she pays £10 return for a call service to get to a bank and shops in Hexham.

But the service is only available on Tuesdays and Fridays, with only one bus per day. Passengers are picked up in Kielder at 8:45am and arrive in Hexham almost two hours later. The bus returns at 1:45 PM. Jeannette, a retired custodian, says: ‘Unfortunately, due to our location, it is necessary to bank online – but not by choice. It makes you more vulnerable to hackers, and those of us who don’t like computers can really struggle. If more banks close, millions more will be forced to bank online.”

I call the dial-a-ride firm Adapt (NE) to book a ride. Someone picks up and says they are busy and will call back in 10 minutes. I’m still waiting for that call. Next, I visit the village’s bike rental company, The Bike Place. Here I can rent a pedal bike for £35 for a day or £60 for an electric bike. Manager Martin Lively says, “If you kick now and don’t dawdle, you’ll be at the Bellingham ATM in 90 minutes.”

But the rain begins to spew and I don’t like the sight of the steep hills in front of me. I politely decline the offer and make a quick exit.

Running out of options, I decide to hitchhike.

It’s a gamble though because I risk getting stranded on the way there or when I try to come back. There’s also the minor problem of few vehicles on the road and the locals are justifiably suspicious of a strange-looking stranger holding a notepad.

I think I found my lucky break when I came across sheep farmer John Richardson checking his 300 Swaledales on a 100 acre plot in nearby Yarrow – just on the edge of the six-mile Kielder Water reservoir.

The 83-year-old twinkles in his eye as he rides his 450cc quad bike and encourages me to jump aboard. He says, “Of course we should all have cash, even if we live here. But banks just don’t want to know or don’t care.’

However, John admits that the quad is not enough for a trip to the Halifax branch in Hexham where he does his banking. He can only take me on off-tarmac trails as he doesn’t have a quad bike license – not ideal when it’s raining.

At least the post office survives

For those who are very flexible with timing and who don’t prefer the anonymity of an ATM, the post office offers another option. It is open from 9:30 a.m. to noon on Mondays and Saturdays and six hours a day from Tuesday to Friday.

Unlike banks in the area, the Post Office survived thanks to tight regulation – something much needed to maintain access to cash.

When I go there, the entrance is locked, with a sign on the battered old blue door saying, “Please ring for service.”

Postmaster Julie Webb opens the small post office kiosk, which is plastered with advertisements from a bygone era – advertising fishing licenses, phone cards and National Savings.

It’s freezing because Julie can’t afford to heat the room – she’s wrapped in a hooded blanket.

There is nothing for sale other than second-hand books to raise money for the local air ambulance. The shop in which the post office is located closed years ago.

Julie says, “About 95 percent of any zip code area should be within six miles of the nearest post office – and this minimum level of access is what keeps us alive. The banks don’t have such rules.’

This post office survives on the bare bones of a service, but if Julie were to decide to close, it’s hard to imagine who else could take over the limited service to serve the locals.

Despite challenges, cash is still on the menu

When I finally arrive in Bellingham, I walk into the Village Bakery, a shop that has been serving the locals for over a century.

Polite signs are scattered around: ‘Attention – cash only. Thank you.’

Slick bank managers who want to force customers to hand over a debit or credit card for payment – ​​or ‘sling’ a piece of plastic over an electronic reading device – get short shrift from the bakery owner’s wife, Bridget Arnup. She doesn’t even have a cash register.

Bridget says: ‘We don’t intend to help banks and others make more money by charging us a commission for taking their cards and we won’t be bullied into giving up the freedom to use cash.

“You take money away and God knows what can happen. Electronic payments sound well and good, but what happens when fraudsters hack into computer systems? Cash also helps with budgeting.’

And with that lesson I buy a scotch pie, mince and onion pie, shortbread and custard pie for the princely sum of £4.50 after withdrawing cash from the nearby ATM.