All through the day walking before, I had been able to see a major borders landmark - the Eildon Hills. This triple peaked hill was once occupied by a Roman fort called Trimontium (inventive with their naming), but settlement on the hill is much older than that, with archeological remains dating to 1000BC, bronze age.
I had decided that it would negligent of me to pass by the hills without climbing them, in particular the highest peak, Eildon Mid Hill. I must admit that with only 3 hours of proper sleep, and a late start due to being dropped back from Kirk Yetholm, I was not feeling very up to the challenge. Regardless I pushed through, and getting some misleading directions from locals, and then misleading routes from the map, dragged myself up the summit of Eildon Hill North, struck by wind and panoramas. No wonder this has been such a point of powerful occupation, it commands views across the entire Borders region. I still had to summit the highest peak, but chose to leave my pack on the saddle between hills, where the path divides. On top of Eildon Mid Hill is a trig point, and a beautiful engraved plate showing the direction to other landmarks and their heights, such as The Cheviot.
St Cuthbert's Way took me down into Melrose and joined back up with the Borders Abbeys Way, passing the Melrose Abbey. I didn't pay to enter, but the building looked beautiful from the perimeter anyway. Like all the Borders Abbeys it has been ransacked by the English in the "rough wooing" but much more remains in Melrose than Kelso. Like many older buildings in this area it is made of a pinky red sandstone, which can be seen in exposed faces of the Eildon Hills, and along the banks of the River Tweed.
On reluctant feet I trapped out of Melrose, through Galashiels, and back into farmland. It was with some relief that I found walkers signposts on my planned cross-country routes - Scotland has "right to roam" laws, meaning that almost all land is open access. This should make cross country hiking simple, but unfortunately it also means that the common walking routes are not so clearly marked in the OS Maps app that I use for planning, so I can the certain where gates or stiles will be, and whether the walking will be easy. Because of this much of my walking will be along country roads on my way to Edinburgh.
I managed 22.6km in total that day, which once I would have thought impressive, but now is a little disappointing, and wild camped behind a stand of pine trees feeling mildly transgressive, though perfectly legal.
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| Eildon Hills - Wester and Mid, viewed from North hill |
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| View towards the Cheviots from Eildon Mid Hill |
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| Melrose Abbey |
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| River Tweed in Melrose |
3 June
Starting a little later than intended, I was only a few kilometres from Stow, a village that promised a cafe, where I hoped to charge my cellphone before continuing on my way. However along the road I stopped to chat to a woman and her overly enthusiastic 10 month old lab x retriever. When I mentioned charging up at the cafe she informed it wouldn't open til 10am, and immediately offered for me to come in to their farmhouse home, just along the road. In the meantime Joyce plied me with tea and cake and conversation, then had to go out with a friend, leaving me to finish recharging and let myself out when I was ready. Within 100m of leaving her house I stopped to admire a pink flowering hawthorn, and fell into conversation with a lovely older lady for another half hour!
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| Beautiful old farmhouse stove - useful for rousing weak lambs |
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| The pink hawthorn |
As I walked I thought about where I would stop that night, there was a campsite marked in the North end of Gorebridge, which I was expecting to reach around 4:30. The rest of the way to Edinburgh would be 17km along the A7 and likely not that interesting - I started thinking about the shower and bed to be had at the hostel. Why, I thought, should I ruin a whole other day with trudgery, when I could just walk there late this evening?
Determined that it was possible, I stopped into the first pub I came to in Gorebridge for a preparatory rest. All eyes turned to me as I came in and dropped my pack against the bar, a handful of locals, clearly the regular denizens.
Someone asks where I've come from - Stow today, but walked from London since Easter. Interested Scottish murmurs. Where are you heading? Inverness eventually, but thinking I'll push on to Edinburgh tonight. Incredulous looks. One man tells the bartender Allan that he'll pay for the drink I just ordered, soda water with a slice of lime, but apparently that was free anyway. I'm told I need a beer, and accept a half pint of Red MacGregor's, there is some dispute that I should have a pint, but since I plan to keep walking I remain firm.
I fell into conversation with another of the men, Matt, a lovely chap who has walked the West Highland Way 7 or 8 times, but no longer can due to blood clots in his legs. He gives me his card, which is apparently good for a free pint or two along the WHW, and tells me about his eldest grandson who manages the whisky bar in the Balmoral Hotel in Edinburgh.
I receive as gifts a piece of haggis wrapped in foil (to be sliced and fried), and a small jar of tiny pickled mussels. I am talked into having a wee dram of Black Bottle whisky at the insistence of the lovely Matt, the bartender shaking his head over the choice, but it went down smoother than I expected.
A lifetime and yet only 1 hour later I head out in a break in the weather, determined to beat those final kilometres into submission. I had to replan my route when the footpath disappeared, and the pain in my foot was getting steadily worse, but somehow I arrive at the hostel nearly an hour sooner than I expected.
17km, intermittent downpours, and I covered it in 3 hours 10 minutes, including a stop to buy food from the co-op. I have no idea how I achieved that pace, and yet it brings my day's total to over 41km, my longest day so far.
I'm not sure if I'm proud or incredibly stupid. Maybe just footsore.
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