A sea swim in the sunset, a woodpecker, and more

Estonia 2

Place names with too many vowels! Lanksaare, Uuemaa and Urisaare of the startling green Orthodox church.

Local place name. Notice the red and white stripes below denoting the National Walking Trail

Häädemeeste (yep, there’s anotther one!) which is the nearest biggish town (it actually has a Co-op which was open on Easter Monday).

Local church, Haademeeste, Estonia
Talking of which: beautifully decorated local eggs dyed with onion and beetroot skins
A small lake nearby where I am staying, Massiaru, Estonia

I have seen some magnificent birds here. There was an aweee(p) single repeated call. A large bird, it looked like a black and grey raptor swept down over the ploughed field with a huge wing span.

Strong shadows, forest, Estonia

Pee pee pee, pee poo pee poo. I didn’t see this one but I certainly heard it. Is it the bird who mimics others? It is as if he is practicing all the tunes he can remembers in case he forgets. Or pretending to be more birds than he is!

They don’t seem to take care when cutting down the trees

A confetti of leaves
A trill of birds
A stumble of stones
A crunch of cones
A prickle of pines
The roughness of riven birch
A needle of fir saplings

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Silver birches shining in the early evening sun

The straightest roads I have ever seen. They have ditches running parallel on both sides, some filled with water. Ahead they go, as far as my eye can see.

This one was a railway running from the coast inland to transport the wood and putting lots of fishermen out of work. It opened in 1923 and was finally taken up in 1975. It was the last public narrow-guage in Estonia

Four long wheee calls, a flap of large wings. I looked up, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand. Across to a high-up tree it flew and then I heard a distinctive wooden drilling – it was a woodpecker! Much bigger than I expected, I saw it so clearly silhouetted against the blue sky.

I found the river but none of the promised beaver or otter, although there was a dam which looked as if the former had been busy. It was so peaceful that I sat on a stump and inhaled the fresh water smell

So far I have seen two storks – one flash of white at the corner of my eye revealed a gawky version of a heron in the garden; the other striding in a field, surely taller than I.

I walked along the boardwalk, three quarters finished and the scent of new-sawn pine, through the alder forest and came out on Kabli beach

Earlier I had visited further down the coast and ducks and geese ftook their turns in the air, as well as spread out V-shaped wedge (or bevy, aparently) of swans, necks extended, and swept around the coast.

Kabli Beach, Estonia

I have rarely seen a more beautiful sight. The Bay of Riga with an individual, gracious swan on satin water. In and out I went, it was so cold, a little deeper each time – my skin tingled.

A blood-orange sky lazed around a golden sun. Eventually I swam, legs brushing rocks I couldn’t see. Otherwise, ridged sand underfoot

Later, sitting in gritty clothes, I marvelled at the upside down exclamation mark of magenta egg. The setting sun was suspended a few centimetres from the horizon and the matching pillar, no it was more of a column because it seemed to have rounded edges, was in the sea underneath.

Sun setting on the Bay of Riga, Estonia

It got squatter, closer to merging with the ocean. I took a stone seat full of the day’s warmth under my bottom. The view was luminous, now a magic mushroom. All the birds went on tweeting as if nothing was happening! The sky was rainbow coloured. The orb started to flatten. Then there was just the merest cap, and at the last ,a distant errupting volcano, a flying saucer far away, a pink dash and it was gone. My toes were numb.

I think it only lasted around three minutes in total before it vanished below the horizon
When I turned round, it had bathed everything a soft red

Yesterday deer ran across the road in front of me. Today I disturbed a flock who thought they were camouflaged, but I had already heard and seen them. Off they scarpered, white arses flashing up in the air as they bounded through beige bracken.

The aura of a pussy willow is the same as the cats with the sun behind them

It turns out that the round, glowing bees are wild for the pussy willow. They buzz edso loudly I could still hear them as I walked away.

Can you see the white aura around Hawthorn, one of the resident kittens captivated by something? He is so curious that it doesn’t take much to get his attention!

This morning when I was doing my exercises in the garden and was on the Wood part of the 5 Element chi gung, a tiny rustle caught my ear and there was a mouse beside me on the pile of wood shavings. In the evening I heard that one of the cats had brought one in as a ‘present’. I hoped it was not him.

Dusky pink, plum, apricot: the stalks and trunks. Anything that has the faintest natural hint of these colours picks up the evening sun

Later I saw a black snake. It was approximately 35 inches long (70cms) with a slight yellow on its head, but it had been run over which was how I got to photograph it and measure the length with my thumb. (I thought better of including it here as it was somewhat damaged and it seemed a bit gruesome somehow).

Last week’s full moon
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and one more sunset (from a different evening) to end with.

I recommend the Alien Heartbeat blog for beautiful short accouts of walks in Estonia, the people he meets, and gorgeous photos.

The flora and natural beauty of Estonia

Spring 2019, southern Estonia

Try listening to native Arvo Pärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel here while you feast your eyes on some of Estonia’s lovelist spring flowers and other natural wonders.

Hepatica nobilis or Blue Flower / liver leaf / crystal wort
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Blue, white, yellow (alder lily) and purple on the forest floor
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Wood anenomes
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I cannot find out the name of this flower
Eight days of sun and purple violets showing between tree roots amongst the dry crunchy leaves of the winter gone

Shy yellow heads: one dandelion-ish, the other cowslip.

Cowslip

It looksed like iris and wild rose in their infancy along what used to be a path which I followed through the forest, stepping over fallen logs, twigs crackling under foot.

Grasses
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Wiggly, furry – what are they?
Fungus with orange edging growing on the underside of a fallen log in the forest
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The new seed heads of moss growing very close to the ground
Tiny green seed flowers
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Just opened today (24.4.19)
New fir
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The only stem of its kind, a one-off
Grape hyacinth and burgundy shoots
Celandines
Star shaped leaves of lupin amongst the brown winter grasses
Close-up of the prettiest moss ever
Budding leaves
The pink heads of rhubarb just poking through
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By a small lake, bulrushes like popcorn exploded and mimicking candy floss fluffing

Unfortunately I have not managed to identify a lot of these. Please do let me know if you are better on naming than I am. I would be very grateful.

Thanks to this blog for information on the Blue Flower names.

Riga, Pärnu, Massiaru

April 2019 – backpack travel.

Disclaimer: the sky really was that blue – it wasn’t a fancy camera filter!

I travelled to Riga in Latvia (one of the 3 Baltic States) by plane from Edinburgh, arriving late on Thursday night.

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Early April morning, St Peter’s Spire, Riga, Latvia

I took 22 bus from the airport to the centre and walked through the underpass to the Wicked Weasal Hostel which I highly recommend. It is clean and the staff are really friendly. I was offered a free beer and there’s tea (including green) and coffee in the well stocked kitchen. I was in a shared dorm with a Spanish soldier and ended up reviving my Spanish until late at night as we swapped life stories!

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The Art Academy of Latvia, Riga, Latvia

I stayed less than 12 hours so have very few photos to show for it. On the way out I passed the astonishing golden domes of the Riga Nativity of Christ (Russian Orthodox) Cathedral, and the statue of Rainis (Janis Plieksans, a famour Latvian poet, playwright, translator and politician in the Riga Esplanade park.

 

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Unusual clock behind the Art Academy, Riga, Latvia
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Mural in the Pärnu bus station, Estonia
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Pärnu River, Pärnu, Estonia
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Pärnu River, Pärnu, Estonia

I took two buses that day – one to Pärnu along the main highway, and the other which doubled back south for some of the way and then headed slightly inland to Massiaru – four hours in total.

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A church I snapped through the bus window on the way – the majority of Estonians say that religion is not important in their lives. The ones who are, are either Christian or Orthodox
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This part of Estonia (south west) is flat and forested. In many places they clear the pines and leave the silver trunks of the birches
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Everywhere there are brightly coloured timber houses – pink, yellow and blue
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Many of the houses have smaller buildings in their gardens which are buried up to the roof on three sides
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I am staying in the small village of Massiaru in the Pärnu region of Estonia
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Russia is to the east of Estonia, Finland to the north west. I came north from Riga in Latvia
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In the old school house, Massiaru, Estonia

Every day I walk for a couple of hours – on the first day to the south, then to the north, the west and east. The roads are straight and wide, some dary grey tarmacked and some stony and pale apricot. It is monotonous walking – mentally relaxing.

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Pussy willow, one of my first successful close-ups enabled by my new phone camera
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I am surrounded by trees including the familiar Scots Pine

Standing amongst them
The patience of trees
The forebearance of trees
The pure being of trees
Do you think the birds tickle them?

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Mostly silver birch and various types of pines
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Also some oaks in the garden which has farm land around it

I find a sunny place in the mornings to do my swinging exercises, T’ai Chi and to ‘Stand Like a Tree’ (a chi gung exercise) for my general health and to counteract the 6-7 hours a day of cerebral work writing hours at my laptop.

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There is a new pond in the garden. The reflection reminded me of a natural green version Dali’s Mae West lips

I sit in the sun to have my lunch, topping up my vitamin D levels after the Scottish winter. In contrast to my trips to Spain in previous years, I have gone back in time coming here, leaving the Spring behind me, but it is getting warmer every day and the plants are shooting nicely.

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The forests provide for many people’s livelihoods – logging and wood preparation. The hay bales are in long, white plastic covered snakes
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Nearby is an industrial building
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Nepeta cataria (catnip). The primary resident is creating an artist’s herb garden – cultivating and planting seeds in hanging trays in the old classrooms, and creating presentations indoors in the bedrooms through the winter
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Hawthorn and Dandelion – 2 more residents
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I am writing about death and loss, so this window sill display is most appropriate
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This thrush was not killed by the kittens who live here as they were kept in after their operations. A sleek grey lynx was spotted in the field next to the garden that day, but I think it was more likely to be the visiting cat

 

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Before they left, M and R took me to the beach on the Baltic Coast near Kabli which has a camp site where the RMK Estonian Hiking Route walkers can stay close to the end of the trek
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The patterns in the sand are amongst the most impressive I have seen. Beach, Pärnu Region, Estonia
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This green painted Orthodox church is 3 kms away in the village of Urissaare

 

 

Berwickshire Coastal Path: Eyemouth to St Abbs Head Lighthouse

I took the bus from Edinburgh to Eyemouth where I ended the previous stage of the Berwickshire Coastal Path (BCP). From there I walked to St Abbs (6 km, 3.5 miles) going north east wards, and on to St Abbs Head and the lighthouse. Then I hiked back again to get the bus! (The village of Coldingham is 1.5 miles inland). More practicalities are at the end of the blog.

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The Journey

As I left Edinburgh (on the 253 bus at 8am), almost everyone else was going to Monday morning work. There were four of us heading eastwards: a cyclist and three walkers including a second solo woman who was consumately prepared (that was when I realised I had left my pole at home!) She was doing walking the BCP over 2 days, for the second time.

Everyone was reading books rather than their phones as we passed through the pretty town of Haddington where children were making their way to school.  Even before we drove into Dunbar, the odour from the Belhaven Brewery assailed my nostrils!

The others alighted in the sun at Cockburnspath, near the wee round-towered church, technically the start of the Berwickshire Coastal Path (BCP). I went on to Eyemouth and wondered why I was doing it backwards. It seems to be a habit of mine: reading the Sunday paper from the back to front; starting the Via de la Plata in Santiago de Compostella (rather than in Seville which I did later). What does that say about my personality?

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This stretch has the second highest cliffs on the east coast of Britain

Note to those who might want to do this: leaving Eyemouth (10.05am), be careful not to walk along the road as it is a dead end. Instead, go across the sands to the steps and up there are BCP signs. On the beach it was ever so warm, whereas at the top I needed a hat and a hood to keep out the gusts.

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A giant red forehead looks out over Eyemouth Harbour and sands

Eyemouth to Coldingham

I visited the site of two forts: one English (1547) and the other French (1557), neither of which survived due to changes to the Crown of the day. Guns mark their existence now, facing out to foreign lands – a sign of outmoded protectionism, sadly very present in current foreign policy.

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Eyemouth Fort – all grass now apart from the guns, and the  stone shelter which you can see on the left. Scottish Borders

I inhaled the smell of brine and sun-warmed turf. The woman walking in the other direction had a north English accent and needed sunglasses it was so bright. We both turned and looked up at the tuneful sound and when I asked her if she knew what it was she said, ‘a type of skyark, I only do generic when it comes to birds.’

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Monumental

Immediately there is a caravan park which was inhabited: a black labrador sitting patiently by the door; a woman inside with her hat on. There were daffodils lining the fence and Danger signs (people do disregard these and have serious accidents). Not much further along were lots of memorials – benches, bunches of dead or pretend flowers, and moving inscriptions, perhaps to those whose ashes had been taken by the wind out to sea.

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The land juts out into the ocean and there is a wonderful view

Further along was a camper van and a coachload of German tourists, but they didn’t stray far – just had a quick look and then left. Of course there were dog walkers here too, close to the road where they could get easy access. One small hound barked vociferously at me and his owner said it was the rucksacks which set him off!

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Rock strata of varying hues

The wind was so strong that it moved my camera as I pointed it.

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Spectacular landscape
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A series of wooden bridges boasting various signs including the BCP one (blue circle with white wave)
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A freestanding wall of rock on the right and a hard-packed, cracked and curving path to the left
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Across the first wooden bridge the path wound down a river valley to the huge foamy rollers –  water reflecting the blue sky in the distance

You could easily miss the tiny sign at the top of an orangy-red clay track to the right, but I had watched a hiker ahead of me turn down, so I knew to look out for it.

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A rusty metal drill bit is sticking out of the grass on the left and on the other side, picnicking, sit an Australian woman and her most protective black and white shortie

Just ahead is the sign that you are not advised to take to ‘Coldingham via Fleurs Farm’. There was a woman beachcombing at the next cove which was full of smelly seasweed.

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Sunshine flowers – gorse against azure and underneath them hidden blue birdseye (speedwell) to match the sky
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Purple ploughed fields with very loud birds on the left (the ones which make the sound of unoiled wheels) while the peep peeps of the oyster catchers reached my right ear on the breezes
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Coldingham Bay in the distance

There were violets by the path and the merest hint of primrose scent, taking me back to my childhood when we used to pick them at St Julian’s (Sevenoaks, Kent). Can I pick wildflowers in Britain? Technically yes if you don’t uproot them or take them from an area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, but think carefully first – they don’t last in a vase and do look ever so good in their native surroundings.

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Jagged rocks

The wildflowers were all yellow here (the photo was not good enough to use): celandine, dandelion, daffoldils and gorse.

Coldingham

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Coldingham Sands (11.30am) with its brightly coloured beach huts
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Memories of playing with the children when they were little and them not wanting to get out of the sea “not ever”!
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Coldingham Sands – a blue flag beach
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In Memory of Isabel Cowe , well known business woman and suffragist

Here I saw my first bluebells of 2019 as I climbed very steeply up behind the beach huts and past the bed and breakfast (now a private house) where I stayed for my birthday with Lesley a few years ago.

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Easy to miss the mossy sign to the Creel Path off the road – this time I had read the instructions in advance so I knew to go over the stile
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The thickets of the Creel Path

At the T junction, the signs point left to Coldingham which this time I did not visit and I therefore missed the Coldingham Priory which was a Benedictine Abbey. There has been Christian worship on the site for over a thousand years and the present Priory Church building includes walls dated to around 1200. The Priory was founded in 1098 by Edgar, King of Scots, son of Malcolm Canmore and St Margaret after recovering his kingdom from Donald Bane, his uncle, who had usurped it at his father’s death. 

The first monastic community consisted of thirty Benedictine monks from Durham until 1590. The original Church, built in Edgar’s time, was destroyed by King John of England in 1216, but was replaced by a greater and more magnificent one, which in turn was largely destroyed in 1545 during the great raid of the Earl of Hertford, which brought ruin also to the abbeys of Kelso, Dryburgh and Melrose. The choir, however, though further damaged by the forces of Oliver Cromwell in 1650, survives and constitutes the present Priory Church.

I passed two other signs indicating that I could have taken earlier ways, but I was pleased to have walked along the famous Creel Path. It is so called because the fishermen used to carry their creels (lobster pots) along here to the beach in days gone by.

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Aubretia and hawthorn as I entered the village of St Abbs (arrival at noon), at the end of the Creel Path

Earlier I spotted the old, brown seed heads of tansy and teasal, but here in the warmth that came off the earth were haphazard flies and in sheltered corners there were the new season’s flowers. What a welcome, bright sight they were attracting the first butterfly I had seen after the long winter. I was about to come across primula and pansies, even white garlic flowers on top of juicy wild garlic stalks. That confirms it, I thought to myself, no argument, Spring is here!

St Abbs

On entry down the hill, there was white washing fluttering in the breeze and a restaurant and visitor centre, both shut of course on account of the time of year.

Through the harbour and up the other side, to my delight however, was an old school building with an open cafe. I had a picnic with me, but can never seem to resist a hot cup of tea. The baking (avocado and courgette gluten free cake) was excellent and the staff were all kindness – initially organising a chair and table outside for me and then adding a cosy blanket for warmth. By the way, you can also buy a very pretty, homemade pink magic wand for £3.50 too!

After a break and refreshments in the sun (with wi-fi), I continued along the road and then entered the protected Nature Reserve to the St Abbs lighthouse at St Abbs Head. where I have walked many times before.

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Memorial

These small bronze figures are the wives and children of Charles Purves and brothers William and James Thorburn who were lost in the great storm of 1881 when 189 fishermen lost their lives. The harbour does not belong to the Council but to the local people via the Community Council and a Trust. There is an important Lifeboat Station here, privately funded and independent.

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St Abbs harbour

St Abbs with its super clear waters is a favourite place for scuba divers, including beginners. For details of the new bunkhouse, see below.

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The Ebba Centre and Old School Café – highly recommended

The cafe is named after Ebba, ‘Mother of Northumbria’, so the signs in the Ebba Centre told me. She was born c. 615 AD, daughter of Aethelfrith the first king of Northumbria and in 643 AD she founded a nunnery nearby which predates the priory mentioned above. Later she was made a saint.

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On leaving the village of St Abbs – typical Scottish sentiment
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The coastline north of St Abbs has high cliffs and belongs to the National Trust for Scotland.  It is a popular tourist area both for bird watchers, wildflower lovers, and hikers

I spent ages admiring the gliding birds with blanched tips to their tail feathers  – they seemed effortless. Many were perched on the rocks like tiny pearls in an invisible hairnet. Apart from the bumble bee, everything here was white: feathers and wool, gulls chests, and the foamy most-white of the waves between the rocks.

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Looking back towards the village of St Abbs, Scottish Borders

I was reading about Sarah Marquis, a very experienced walker who could smell water when she was hiking in Australia. I believe I could smell the grass happily growing in the sun after being dormant for so long.

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Verdant pastures in the lee of the hill where lambs were supping at troughs, maaa-ing to their mums who were down on their elbows supping the new grass

The path took me around and behind hillocks on the way, but I went up and over them on my return. Once I caught myself avoiding looking – the grandeur of the views, the colours – as if I didn’t know what to do with them they were so wonderful.

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The sun lit up the pink and gold rock formations

Going back I wasn’t the only one out on this beautiful afternoon – I discovered it is quite a busy stretch.

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Stacks and white waves
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The sun was already starting to lower throwing blotchy shadows

Gentle paths curve through the spring-green grass, undulating with the landscape – there is some good climbing to strengthen your thighs!

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Berwickshre Coastal Path – St Abbs to St Abbs Head part. Coming from the other direction, the stack  in the middle looked like a flat cactus

You can spot the Northern Brown Argus butterfly according to the sign, and it’s a bird watchers paradise (guillemots and razorbills, shags and cormorants amongs others). I watched a starling with its petrol green head, perched on a fencepost, feathers disrupted as the wind attempted to dislodge it.

St Abbs Lighthouse

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The lighthouse at St Abbs Head

68 Metres above sea level, the lighthouse was built by David and Thomas Stevenson. It is automated now, remotely monitored, so there is no lighthouse keeper. It flashes white every 10 seconds to warn sailors of the rocks below.

My walking future was ahead of me: a tarmaced road between knolls, jagged rocks and chiselled cliffs; the power station with a polluting cloud coming out of its tallest chimney; Berwick Law (a little hill all on its own near North Berwick); Bass Rock (an island off that coast); and Edinburgh beyond.

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I went back the same way past this gate with a beatific, female face

Back in the village, I was sitting dozing in the sun when William came up to tell me his life story. At 88 years he has had two sticks and two wives, he told me in his Sussex accent. He was born 2 months after his parents were married, he explained, which was why they left the place of his birth, but later they were forgiven and returned. He was a member of the fire service in both Salisbury and Hereford (both places I have relatives, I said, but he wasn’t really listening!). He was drawn to speak to me with my rucksack beside me because he is a lifelong member of the Berwick Ramblers.

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I got a good view of St Abbs church which was beside the cafe where I had rested earlier and which I had also sighted on my initial approach from the Creel Path

After our conversation, the bus came into view and only then did I realise that I barely had any cash. The driver said coins only and waited while I dashed back to the cafe (visit #3 that day) where they gave me £2 (they couldn’t do cash-back) saying I could give it to them another time. What a fantastic gesture!

It was a short day’s walk (4 hours maximum) with quite a lot of climbing. I felt taller and prouder inside and only at the end did I feel a twinge in the instep of my left foot, otherwise no pain or difficulty at all. Less is more!

Practicalities

I advise you to walk in the other direction if you do not have a car and a friendly person to pick you up because there is nowhere to stay at Drylaw, only a car park, and it is too far (29 kms – remember that there are a lot of slopes and hills) to walk from Eyemouth all the way to Cockburnspath.

My timings: 2 hours on the bus from Edinburgh to Eyemouth; 1.5 hours walk to Coldingham Bay; half an hour on to St Abbs Village; 45 minutes to St Abbs Head lighthouse. You could probably do it quicker, but I savoured it all. The 235 bus from St Abbs to Berwick-upon-Tweed takes about half an hour (£3 odd), and the train from Berwick to Edinburgh about 45 minutes.

Remember to check the sunrise and -set, and co-ordinate with travel and walking times if you are also hiking in winter/early spring!

There is almost no accommodation along the path excepting at Berwick-upon-Tweed. If you know of any (other than the bunkhouse below) please do let me know and I will add it to the blog later. Of course if it was summer you could wild camp like Rucksack Rose.

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If you are planning to walk this way, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did

For more information about the Berwickshire Coastal Path, please see the excellent leaflet produced by Scottish Borders Council Newtown St Boswells, Melrose TD6 0SA 0300 100 1800 enquiries@scotborders.gov.uk www.scotborders.gov.uk

Bunkhouse email address: divestabbs@gmail.com (Paul Crowe, skipper of the boat MV> Topline who takes fishermen, tourists and divers out to see the area).

St Abbs Visitor Centre

St Abbs Marine Station (research into marine science, conservation and education).

National Trust for Scotland Seal pups at St Abbs Head

The benefits of walking on uneven ground