I had a magnificent walk today from St. Boswells to Jedburgh, with the blustery wind my constant companion, the most stunning scenery along an ancient Roman road, and blissful solitude.
I left my accommodations at St. Boswell’s early and stopped a few blocks up the High Street to have coffee and carrot cake for breakfast at this somewhat famous Borders book shop and cafe that hosts many top authors.
After my quick breakfast, I only had to walk several blocks through town to reach this lane, and then turn down a drive to a golf course that bordered the river.
I walked along the edge of the golf course, enjoying the early morning quiet, the cool air, and the fresh wind that scattered the first of the yellow leaves about. When the golf course ended, the trail was once again right beside the river. I am so impressed by the routing of this trail!
The trail followed the river for a good long way and it was so peaceful to hear only the river, birds, and the sound of the wind through the leaves in the trees. There were several lone fishermen spaced along the river, enjoying their morning meditation of casting and pulling, casting and pulling. After a while, I finally encountered three of my brethren, fellow Saint Cuthbert’s Way walkers, who overtook me, but we were all intent on the start of the day and we didn’t say much more than a hello.
The trail passed by an old mill on the opposite bank, and then under a pretty bridge.
And then the trail carried on for another kilometer or so along the river’s edge until it finally turned away from the Tweed at this beautiful spot to climb steeply up the bank to the village of Maxton.
I felt sad to leave the river, but was also very grateful that so much of the trail had followed its banks yesterday and today. From here, the river will continue to flow eastwards to enter the North Sea at Berwick-upon-Tweed. I won’t visit it there on this trip, but perhaps on another as I now have a great fondness for this river!
The church at Maxton, just above the river, is dedicated to St. Cuthbert. There is reputed to have been a place of worship in continuous use on this site for almost 1000 years. From the church, there began a section of road walking along several quiet country lanes lined with hedgerows, with occasional patches of blackberries that provided a reason to stop for a few moments. Tiny bursts of flavour, nutrition, and happiness!
The roads rose and fell, providing ever-changing views. I love this image of a wheat field, with the Eildon Hills far in the background and a beautiful sky.
I love this kind of landscape! There are so many curves and lines and shapes formed by the fields and hills and trees. And, I love how you can see so far in the distance – it gives such a feeling of possibility.
Then I turned onto Dere Street which follows on the path of the Roman road, built around the year 80 AD, that travelled north in a straight line from York to Edinburgh. At first, the trail on Dere Street went through a wood, but then it opened up and travelled between farm fields, up and over long hills, with meadow grasses and great oaks and beeches and ash trees scattered along the path. It was so beautiful it made me dizzy with happiness. And the wind was blowing constantly, bending and waving the meadow grasses and leaves and moving the clouds overhead.
Here are a few photos from my wonderful walk along Dere Street.
And three more because the beauty just kept going on and on! I had not passed one person since I left the river. All of this was just for me.
Eventually, the path left Dere Street and entered a somewhat dreary and dark wood, approaching Harestanes (though I did spot two grouse!). A bit off-trail, it was where I had planned to buy my lunch. But, by now my feet were starting to feel sore, and without the excitement of the views of Dere Street my pack started to feel rather heavy. I was hungry, but I didn’t feel like proceeding to Harestanes and having to backtrack again to Saint Cuthbert’s Way. It wasn’t a long distance, maybe around two kilometers, but Brent knows how I hate to backtrack!
So, I decided to skip lunch and I found a spot to have a brief rest, take off my boots, drink some water and eat a handful of nuts. Somewhat restored, I retraced my steps and was soon out of the dreary wood and onto a path that led to my third pedestrian suspension bridge of this trip, this one over the pretty Teviot river.
The trail followed the river downstream, with a beautiful field of ripe barley on my right. (The lady walker in Melrose had mis-identified wheat as barley.)
I plucked a stalk and munched on the seeds as I walked. It was quite a day of wild eating, with blackberries, wild raspberries, wheat and barley seeds, and tangy sorrel leaves all found alongside the trail.
After leaving the river and crossing a main road, the trail regained Dere Street for a long steep section. I was excited and somewhat relieved to finally reach the sign indicating the turn off into Jedburgh along Border Abbeys Way, and I took one more photo from there of the Eildons, barely visible near the center of the photo because they were now so far away. I had walked from all the way from there to here!
But my excitement was rather short-lived as the trail down to Jedburgh very quickly joined a paved road which went on and on much longer than I expected it to. My feet were extremely unhappy (though my knees did well thankfully), and I just about limped into my accommodation. Almost 20 km with my pack, and close to seven hours of steady walking!
What a day! A Roman road. Solitude. The wonderful wind. Time to think and space to breath, and treasures on the trail.
Goodnight.
