July 29 and 30 Kelso and Jedburgh

The account of yesterday's doings somehow got deleted, WHICH IS VERY ANNOYING, so let me see if I have enough brain cells to give a recap of yesterday's events.  In the morning, I did a circular walk, the first few miles of which were the same as the start of today's Kelso-Jedburgh stage.  Those miles were just beautiful, along the River Tweed.

First, Kelso Abbey.  All these abbeys are ruins, so their most interesting aspect is what remains of the architecture:

Of course, if you are totally into ruins, you can pay a fee and go in to see more.

Perfectly camouflaged bird on the River Tweed:

I don't know if no tree is an island, but this one looks like one:

Not the same bird as the one above, no, an entirely different bird who was walking with some difficulty in the river.  What do we learn from this?  1) The bird may have a problem, 2) The river is very shallow right there

A quiet stretch of the Tweed:

Flowers along the bank:

More flowers and a mildly threatening grey sky:

There were happy yellow flowers, too:

A little bridge:

Thank God I did not have to pass through his field:

Maybe he has his eye on her:

Or one of her friends:

They will all have what to eat come winter!

When you pass an aqueduct (why is that not spelled aquaduct?) you take a picture of it:

You just do.

At this point, we go to the other doings of yesterday.  The walk back to Kelso was on a disused railway track.  Normally those are super dull, but this one was pleasant, shaded, and had a good, firmly packed dirt surface.

We know who lives here!

 John, having a junction named after you is so special!!

After the walk, it was time to visit the big attraction on the outskirts of the town, Floors Castle  where you are not allowed to take any photos AT ALL.  So if, after reading the blurb, you are interested, just hunt up some photos on line.  As one approaches the castle—which is really just a ginormous house, one is met by ginormous gates with gold on them.  You buy your ticket and then proceed to walk a mile to the castle, unless of course, you are driving, in which you can park fairly close.  

The people who work at the castle, refer, with reverence, to the owners as "their graces," which sounds a bit bizarre, but when you are a duke, I suppose you are graced, or however that works.  Anyway, in addition to rooms with lots of furniture, rugs, precious dinnerware, all that you would expect, there is one room with glass cases filled to overflowing with taxidermied birds and another room with cases filled with taxidermied fish...is that even possible?  Apparently, it is!  That is so gross.  Anyway, there was a ginormous salmon mounted on the wall; it weighed 59 1/2 pounds.

If you want to see a great house, the place to go is Blenheim, outside of Oxford, where Churchill was born.  It is really well curated and lots of fun to visit.

Back to Floors.  There were gardens.  To get to the gardens from the main house, you almost need a map.  The main garden was a walled garden that had many beds of flowers, and honestly, they really needed the services of a gardener.  There was a very nice playground, though.

We are now going to look at flowers in the blue and purple range that are being visited by bees:

Sea holly:

Blue globe thistle:

Teasel:

Tall teasel plant:

Thistle:

And from today, Field Scabious:

As I was leaving the grounds of the graces, I noticed this ad:

Due to the delay is posting, Alex hardly has time to get there!  But if you really hustle, Alex, maybe you can make it.

Back at the B and B, I inquired of the owner about this statue sitting on the landing.  It has an Assyrian vibe, if you know what I mean, and if you don't, just take my word for it.

It is, however, a replica of the king from the Lewis Chessmen which "features iconic  12th century Scandinavian artifacts discovered on the Isle of Lewis in 1831, characterized by expressive human faces carved from walrus ivory and whale teeth." I still think it has an Assyrian vibe!

After the first part of the walk today—and, BTW, I was perfectly happy that it was a repeat of yesterday's walk—the gorgeousness was pretty much over.  But wait!  I almost forgot!  Whom did I meet again, none other than El Señor Toro:

¡Adios, señor!

There were long stretches like this:

And long stretches like this:

And, despite the perfectly gorgeous weather, threats that it won't last:

There were still sheep:

And cows

But, if I am not mistaken, barley has given way to wheat

And I could be mistaken on both the barley and wheat front!  But whatever each is, these fields were different from the ones I have seen up to now.

The B and B in Jedburgh has a 4:00 p.m. check-in time.  I asked if I could check in early, (I always ask if I can check in early.) "If your room is ready,"  "If the room is not ready, but my suitcase has arrived, may I have access to the suitcase?"  "Certainly!"  So I tracked the suitcase.  When I was close to Jedburgh, but the case not so close, I sat on a bench, in the sun, by the River Teviot, ate an apple and some raisin bread and butter, and worked on the Spelling Bee.  You know what?  It is really nice to sit down on a bench in the sun after you have been walking for about six hours!  After a while I continued walking into town, checked the tracker again and noted that the suitcase arrived. Yeay!  The B and B people let me go to my room—it was maybe 1:00, and that was super nice.  

After "getting sorted" I went to visit the Jedburgh Castle Jail and Museum.  Maybe because I was hungry or maybe because there were a bunch of screaming kids or maybe because there were a lot of names and dates, information that just makes me dizzy, but now that I am lost in this sentence, I have to say that I did not get a ton out of this visit.  

First, there was a contradiction.  At the beginning of the tour, there was a poster explaining that conditions were purposefully harsh for first time prisoners, the reason being that this would deter them from committing further crimes, such as stealing turnips, that argument being that the owner of a turnip is entitled to as much protection as the owner of an elephant.  (That is something to think about.)  Then, at the end, there was a poster that said they made the treatment as lenient as possible.  BTW, people were not incarcerated for long periods, sometimes it was just for a few days, but of course it could be weeks or months, depending on when there could be a trial.  

On arrival, prisoners were given a bath and a haircut.  They wore their own clothes.  Before 1840, each cell had a bed and a bucket. the bedding consisted of a straw mattress, pillow, and two blankets, but if you were very bad, you had only a wooden bed:

Very bad man:

(I do not know what changed after 1840.)

The bed clothes were changed twice a year, the straw, not so often.

Prisoners were not allowed to talk to each other or cause any disturbance.

A sample diet:  oatmeal for breakfast, broth and potatoes for lunch, oatmeal and potatoes for dinner. (From this you could get scurvy.)

One prison regulation:  "Every prisoner shall yield a ready and cheerful obedience to the rules of the prison."  (You did get a bath and a haircut, after all.)

If you were serving more than a month, you got to have daily exercise, but you were not allowed to see or talk to any other prisoner.

A female prisoner sharing her lunch with a rat.  (That is a rat on her plate.)

I cannot believe I do not have a photo of mortsafe—something I had never heard of.  What it is is a heavy metal grating put over the coffin of the executed person to deter would-be body snatchers. 

Those are a few takeaways from the jail.  

Jedburgh is a town of one longish street, except about half way down, there is another street that intersects.  The point?  I do not have to use Google Maps no matter where I want to go, which is to the grocery store and the fruit store!

July 28, Dryburgh to Kelso

Since I had walked from Melrose to Dryburgh yesterday, I needed a taxi to take me to Dryburgh so that I could complete the last fifteen or so miles to Kelso. I did not sleep well at all last night due to excessive worrying that the taxi might not show up at 5:30 a.m.  It did.  At 5:50, we reached  Dryburgh Abbey and I was ready to get going.  But there was a problem.  A big one.  One might even call it a crisis!  Access to the path was blocked by a locked gate because the abbey does not open until 9:30.  I could not believe it.

I uttered a number of expletives.

I scaled the wall.

Then there was the worry;  what if I cannot get out at the other end? Fortunately, I could. (I cannot believe I scaled the wall!)  

After a bit, there was a choice:  Go the strict BAW along the edge of the barley field:

Or go crazy and walk along the river, after checking the map carefully, of course, to make sure that the river route connected with the barley route farther on.  It did

The price you pay for this is listening to the voice telling you every 30 seconds, "The route is 110 feet to your left.  You are not on the route.  The route is 120 feet to your left..."  Of course, I could stop the navigation, but these apps are so temperamental, that if you fool around with them you can mess things up.

The thing about today's walk is that it was excruciatingly boring.  90% was on "quiet, country roads," code for asphalt.  

I so think that a lot of my training is for situations such as this:  being able to deal with long periods of tedium.  Also, it was rainy, and muggy, and not rainy but still muggy.  Whileplodding along, I was so so relieved that I had decided to do that circular walk yesterday because— I don't know if I could have tolerated another five miles—and those first five miles were the hardest.

View of the day.

At last, Kelso!  First introduction to the town was the racecourse.  Then there is a golf course.  There is a building that houses curling, ice skating, roller skating, and some other kind of skating, I think.  This is a prosperous town, and probably the biggest one I have been in so far.

You remember that 60+ year old woman hiking the Appalachian Trail a few years ago who stepped off the trail to pee, got disoriented and ended up dying becaue she could not find her way back to the path?  Well here is a story about a hiker that is pretty freaky....only it has a better outcome.

I am staying at a place called The Old Priory (built in 1796) , in a big, old fashioned, gracious room, lovely woods and fabrics and draperies a nd rugs, all maybe overdone but just marvelous, and  there is a gorgeous garden, and I totally love it!

July 27, Melrose to Dryburgh round trip

 The stage from Melrose to Kelso—we are now on the Borders Abbeys Way, and in Scotland, although Eyemouth is in Scotland, too—is close to twenty miles (depending on which source you get your mileage from), and that seemed like too much.  It is not supposed to be difficult, but still.  Since I had an extra day in Melrose, I decided that I would walk to Dryburgh, about 4 1/2 miles distant along the route and either take the bus back or walk back.  Then I came up with a super good plan!  Take the St. Cuthbert's Way route to Dryburgh and the BAW back to Melrose.  In brief, the "out" was way more fabulous than the "back."

The sun was shining brightly before 6:00 a.m.  The colour was not like this,  but I guess this is the effect the suns gives when you try to take its picture:

Can see the cows! (Don't forget to enlarge.)

The first thing I noticed was how easy it was to breathe.  The air, OMG, the air was so cool, and clear and not humid.  It felt so good!!  And thank goodness because.....

Hills, man, were there hills, the Eildon Hills

Fortunately the severest elevations were at the beginning of the walk when you can give it all ya got.  Not only were there long, steep climbs, there were stairs.  The first staircase to heaven was 133 steps, followed by 95 down followed by 64 up and then I stopped counting and making notes  But it was so so gorgeous!

The staircases had benches about every fifty steps!

(I did not use them.)

More heather is beginning to show:

A florette of mushrooms (if there is such a thing):

St. Cuthbert's Way and the Borders Abbey Way are sometimes one and the same.

which, for some reason, makes me think of the song from Oklahoma, "Oh, the farmer and the cowman should be friends..."

The Abbey at Dryburgh was not open when I arrived and I did not feel like waiting 45 minutes, so I headed back.  The Borders Abbey Way route was nowhere near as pleasant as the St. Cuthbert's  Melrose—Dryburgh had been.  A fair amount was on asphalt, which is so so tedious, but it was a lot shorter.

I passed a cake shop:

And an ad for a polar spa:

That sounds like the worst thing ever!  But I suppose if you have an injury or something, the cold might be therapeutic.  In my world, the words polar and spa simply do not belong in the same sentence. Marjorie, not for your party even if you beg!

After returning to the hotel and changing to sneakers, and having a raspberry ice cream, I visited the gardens in town:

Apples working on getting big:

And there were flowers:

The gardens were nice, just not super impressive.  They did, however, afford a good spot from which to take a picture of Melrose Abbey: