Waking up after a great sleep, no rain, no wind and the sun rising slowly over the horizon, oh, and it's Friday !!! đ we love Fridays...
Packed up and headed off in under 20 minutes but then it is always much easier when it's not wet and windy. The coastline was breathtaking in the early morning sun and it was only a short walk into Eyemouth.
I found a cafe but not the kind of cafe I normally like to find, the kind that sell big lorry driver style fried breakfasts. This one was more of a country garden style cafe, a pot of tea and scone it was then... I never will understand why they feel the need to keep the sachets of butter in the fridge so you have absolutely no chance of spreading it on your scone !!! đ«Ł I only moaned to myself of course, nobody else needed to know what a grumpy old git I am...
I was once again very impressed with the information boards positioned around the coastline, explaining interesting features and historical facts from the area. I would never have known that Eyemouth and its neighbouring fishing villages were blighted by the worst ever fishing fleet disaster in Scotlsnd. In October 1881, 189 men were lost in storms off the coast. 78 widows and 182 fartherless children left to fend for themselves. An unimaginable tragedy in such a small place and incredibly, although many of the children were offered places in children's homes, the mothers wouldn't give them up. A very moving sculpture depicting every one of those widows and children looking out to sea for their menfolk... đ„č
Further around this stunning coast I had a good chat with some lovely people from the Berwickshire Marine Reserve who were doing an excellent job collecting rubbish washed up on the beach. I did comment on how relatively clean I thought the beaches were, in no small part due to the hours of work put in by these volunteers all around our coastline.
Some of the toughest walking so far for the rest of the day, up to St Abbs, over the cliffs and walking headlong into some serious winds. Possibly a taste of what is to come when get up into the Highlands. The views were spectacular though so the effort was worth every step.
I did struggle to find a decent pitch for the night, the wind was howling so I eventually settled on a small pine woods that was just over a small rise, I was mostly shaded from the wind but the racket coming from the trees as the wind battered them through the night made for a restless sleep.
After a tough week of walking, I was ready for a rest, it was only 9 miles of yet more beautiful coastline until I got to Cockburnspath. I made a tit out of myself asking a lady walking her dog where I might find a bus stop in Cockburnspath... apparently, the 'ck' isn't pronounced, so it's Coburnspath !!! Why put the bloody 'ck' in the word then, if not only to embarrass idiot tourists like me !!! đ«Łđ„Ž
I knew I wouldn't make it all the way to Dunbar as that was a further 9 miles walk, the rugby was kicking off at 3pm so I found a bus stop, waited for 6 minutes and was on the next bus to the pub. I couldn't believe how lucky I was as there was a bus only every 2 hours !!!
Both games of rugby, a few pints to rehydrate my weary body and a hotel room for a much needed shower and a warm bed...
I needed a day off... đ„±đŽ