LEJOG
Distance walked – 26km (16.3miles)
Total Distance – 1328.3km (830.2miles)
The air is getting hotter
There’s a rumbling in the skies
I’ve been walking through the middle of nowhere
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door
Bob Dylan – Trying to get to heaven
We continued our journey today, again following St Cuthbert’s Way across the Scottish Borders. The spiritual background to this long distance path, it is named after a saint and follows a course that visits many old abbey sites, has caused us to contemplate the spiritual dimension of our own journey or pilgrimage across Britain. I mean this not in the religious sense, but in the sense that we have hoped that our walk would lead us to better understand our place in the universe and how we can live better and more fulfilled lives. Things I think we are learning include a better ability to cope with hardship and difficulty, a desire for simpler lives, and the importance of maintaining connection with the natural world. I have no doubt that other things may become clearer as we journey onwards.
Monteviot Suspension Bridge
The physical dimension of the walk today, however, was more straightforward. We left Jedburgh, following the main road north to regain St Cuthbert’s Way. This avoided retracing our steps of yesterday afternoon and was slightly shorter in distance. Luckily there was a footpath almost all the way and what looked potentially tedious on the map turned out to be a lovely walk in the bright morning sun. When we regained the path, we immediately left the road and were taken on a wonderful meandering riverside walk along the Teviot River. The wide river was bordered by green pastures with mature trees like a Capability Brown landscape. The path led to a substantial suspension bridge that took us over the river and into the woodland of a country house.
Woodland Walk
The walking was easy on a well trodden path with a constant stream of walkers heading in the other direction, similar to yesterday. The path joined the course of the old roman road Dere Street, which we first encountered several days ago in the Cheviots.
Dere Street
We left the wood and followed the Roman road, initially as a narrow track between two dry-stoned walls, and then as a wide avenue lined with mature trees, that ran like a dead straight arrow bisecting the fields on either side.
Lilliard’s Stone
We soon encountered Lilliard’s Stone, a memorial to a maiden who fought in the nearby Battle of Ancrum Moor between the English and the Scots in 1545. The memorial reads (in Monty Pythonesque fashion)-
Fair maiden Lilliard lies under this stane,
Little was her stature but great her fame,
On the English loons she laid many thumps
And when her legs were off, she fought upon her stumps.
Apparently, the story is apocryphal, the name Lilliard being a bastardisation of the original place name of Lilliot Cross and the poem is based on some lines from the Ballad of Chevy Chase about the death of a squire in the battle of Otterburn in 1388. Nonetheless, we hope not to meet any modern Lilliards on our journey in Scotland (Louisa is English!).
Eildon Hills
The high point where the memorial sat afforded a great view ahead to the triple peaks of the Eildon Hills behind which sits the town of Melrose, our destination for today. The roman road eventually converged with the A68, the modern road assuming the course of the old road. We turned off to take a quiet back lane into the village of Maxton.
Maxton Kirk
From Maxton, the path took us on an even smaller lane down to the isolated Maxton Kirk. Many Scottish churches are called Kirks, the word derived from the Viking for church. As we stood in the churchyard admiring the pretty building I was reminded of a travel story I had read several years ago concerning a pretentious student visiting Denmark who went looking for the grave of the philosopher Soren Kierkegaard. On reaching the church graveyard he enquired of a man if he could direct him to where Kierkegaard was buried to which the man collapsed in uncontrollable laughter. He eventually managed to splutter “You’ve coming looking for Kierkegaard in the wrong Kierkegaard!” (Kierkegaard being Danish for churchyard).
Elrond has fallen on hard times. . . .
Luckily, we were in the right churchyard, and spying a short-cut we crossed the graveyard to take a short road walk into the town of St Boswells (this cut off a big loop where St Cuthbert’s Way follows the River Tweed). Walking through the town we spied a fine cafe/bookshop and purchased some cheese scones and cakes for our lunch which we ate sat on the town green.
The highlight of the day was the stretch along the Tweed River after lunch. By now the sun was blazing from a beautiful clear blue sky. The countryside was in full summer bloom and the path along the river was a sylvan delight.
The Tweed River
Unfortunately, the path eventually left the river to climb up into the town of Newtown St Boswells, a small place dominated by the brutalist architecture of the Scottish Borders Council building. We really like brutalist architecture and so we spent some time admiring the structure which was built in 1968 by the Scottish architect Peter Wormersley. (Unfortunately no pictures for some reason – can be seen on Google Maps streetview).
View of the Eildons
From Newtown St Boswells we decided to deviate from St Cuthbert’s Way again to avoid its circuitous course over the Eildon Hills. We instead had spied a direct road route into Melrose that avoided climbing over the hills. The road was luckily closed to traffic and was an easy walk with views of the Hills dominating the skyline to our left.
Melrose Place
We soon arrived in Melrose which was thronging with people on this sunny Friday evening in summer. We were lucky with accommodation again, having booked a room on AirBnB a few days ago which turned out to be in a beautifully renovated old townhouse on the High Street. We didn’t seem as tired today after a slightly shorter and easier day, so we ventured out for a change, finding a very good Thai restaurant. After our meal we had a quick walk around the town, mainly to see the ruined Melrose Abbey, before retiring to our room.
Although we leave St Cuthbert’s Way tomorrow, our pilgrimage will continue. . . . . . . . .
