Introduction to a walk around the Leith boundary, taking in the Rosebank Cemetery, the North Leith Burial Ground, and the streets in between, with information, photos, video, maps and conversation about the wonderful women associated with Leith’s past and contemporary connections.
Home drawn map of the Walking Between Worlds route in Leith One of the Anthony Gormley statues in the Water of Leith over which we walk as part of the tour
(This walk was originally made on foot with a live group in Edinburgh on 23 February 2020, 3pm – sunset (5.30pm). This event has now taken place but it is hoped that there will be more in the future.)
A bird walking between worlds
The original tour was a circular one of approx. 2.5 hrs, that meditated on boundaries and borders – between one community of people and another, day and night, life and death and on the cusp of the new moon.
A new(ish) moon
We visit the graves of notable women in Rosebank Cemetery, North Leith Burial Ground and South Leith Parish Church. Briefly, at each stopping place, we face the memorial stones, and learn about their incumbents.
The North Leith Burial Ground is ‘the dead centre of Leith’ according to The Spirit of Leithers
Grave stone, North Leith Burial Ground
The steps we take from one stopping place to the next, are equally, if not more important, so take note of them too. You are invited to walk in memory of loved ones, and to muse on life and mortality. It is an opportunity for exchange and silent contemplation.
Pilrig Church, Leith Walk. At the border between Leith and Edinburgh
The walk starts at the join of Pilrig Street and Leith Walk, opposite the location of the Boundary Bar (now renamed as Bier Hoose) which marked the former border between Leith and Edinburgh, and terminates at Robbies Bar on the corner of Iona St and Leith Walk, more or less opposite the start. There you can find libation and chat about where you have been – both in yourselves and the city.
Lady Mackintosh who raised a regiment for Prince Charlie, was buried in the North Leith Burial Ground, Edinburgh
Always wear hardy shoes or boots for tramping pavements and negotiating sodden grass between stones and at the edge of the Water of Leith.
Psychogeography is ‘The study of the precise laws and specific effects of the geographical environment, consciously organised or not, on the emotions and behaviour of individuals.’
Terminus was one of the really old Roman gods. He didn’t have a statue, he was a stone marker, and his origin was associated with a physical object). He had influence over less physical boundaries too, like that between two months, or between two groups of people. Terminalia is celebrated on the 23rd February which was the last day of the Roman Year, the boundary between two new years.
Women Who Walk
TI am a member of Women Who Walk. This network is for women who use walking in their creative or academic practice, and it includes artists, writers, field historians and archaeologists, psychogeographers, and academics.
I led a series of these walks, in-person and online (for anyone who was ambulant or not, in Edinburgh or not!) including ones that were part of the Audacious Women Festival 2021, Women Who Walk, and Terminalia Festival (2023 and 2021).
I turned left out of Kings Cross station and left again onto York Way. I was seeking Wharf Road Gardens (connected to Handyside Gardens).
‘The name [King’s Cross] derives from a statue-topped structure erected in 1830 on the junction, or crossroads, between the roads now known as Euston Road, Pentonville Road and Grays Inn Road. The statue, you guessed it, was of a king – King George IV to be precise – who had died that year.’ Culture Trip
Chat on the street, Kings Cross, London
Past Pret with its cucumber hoarding, old buildings and new, a sign for The Guardian newspaper offices (Farringdon Road) advertising ‘Hope is Power’, and King’s Place with its vertical, undulating reflective surfaces.
I cannot resist a reflective surface and tilted, it caught the light better, Kings Cross, London
Soon I crossed the Regent’s Canal with its long boats, both residential and for business. Turning left again, I wound between patches of grass and raised beds. Apparently the London Underground trains run a mere 4.5 metres below the surface and so the soil depth is insufficient for planting.
Looking west along the Regent’s Canal from York Way, London
Little daisies opening their hearts to the sun. There were strawberry plants with fruit (honestly) and all manner of sprightly Spring flowers
Wharf Gardens incorporates Coal Drop Yard, Granary Square, King’s Boulevard, St Pancras Station and West Handyside Canopy – all very ‘regenerated’ and rather chi-chi. However, I discovered many interesting places, not least the Word on Water bookshop.
Word on the Water Bookboat, Regent’s Canal, King’s Cross, London
There was a little contretemps – a woman who was not in full control of her behaviour needing a smoke and most insistently tramping through the shop – which the gentleman in the bowler (see above) managed admirably.
Part of the interior of the Word on the Water bookshop, Regent’s Canal, Wharf Road Gardens, London
The House of Illustration was there, with fascinating sounding exhibitions such as W.E.B DuBois Charting Black Lives. Not much further on was Central St Martins (CSM) art school collaborating with Shades of Noir in a window display, impressively focusing on ‘the historical white dominance of institutional ownership of archival material’ within the CSM Museum.
House of Illustration, London
There were people playing table tennis in the massive, roofed community space (I wanted to join in) and Art Fund at the Coal Drops Yard.
Down by the canal, I bought a book a lovely little book, London’s Hidden Rivers, a walker’s guide to the subterranean waterways of London – the sort of thing I would have liked to write! And admired the cranes against the picturesque sky.
Perhaps the remains of Chinese New Year celebrations – red streamers blowing in the wind
The Canal and River Trust have done a great job of opening up the canal for all of us to enjoy – those walking, jogging, pushing buggies and the school boys smoking joints. Under Somers Town Bridge I trundled with my suitcase, opposite Camley Street Natural Park which I discovered last year (see the link below to an earlier blog, with photos). Past a flight of smart stone steps upon which you could sit and watch the coots and moorhens rush by and up to the St Pancras Lock and Basin, and Gasholder Park, a tremendous new conversion of the disused gasworks.
New blooms amidst the remains of last year’s dry stalks, Regent’s Canal, London
A man was putting his back into it, tightening a sheet on the roof of a barge. The vessels were all colours of the rainbow, some more modern than others, one with a bright blue old-fashioned wheel, but no-one was going through the lock as I approached.
The BT Tower as seen from St Pancras Lock, Regent’s Canal, London
Gasholder Park, Regent’s Canal, London
It all reminded me of a recent visit to a friend’s boat for breakfast on the Edinburgh and Glasgow Union Canal, the Leamington Lift Bridge and it’s waterside community, so I had some idea of what was below decks.
Canal boats, Edinburgh and Glasgow Union Canal
The Leamington Lock, Edinburgh
Lochrin Basin, Edinburgh
It is not far from King’s Cross to Camden Town, perhaps 30 minutes if you didn’t stop off and take photos and browse bookshops and generally see the sights, but well worth it on a cold, sunny day. There I picked up the overground to Gunnersbury, ideal for where I was staying that night.
Geese standing on the water, Regent’s Canal, London
January 2020. The third and final section of the Berwickshire Coastal Path (BCP), Scotland. 25+kms (15.5 miles minimum). There are facilities at the Pease Bay Leisure Park (perhaps 6.5 hours in – the Smugglers Restaurant), otherwise, not until Cockburnspath, unless you count behind-the-bracken as a facility! It is a difficult walk for those who haven’t recently done Scottish cliff walking. Total 7.5 hours.
Berwick-upon-Tweed
Old photo of fishermen on the River Tweed with the iconic bridge behind them. Berwick-upon-Tweed railway station, England
Monument with a coat of arms which has a cow in a gold chain on it, Berwick-upon-Tweed, England
St Abbs
It takes quite a while to get to St Abbs from my home in Edinburgh by public transport (train then local bus), so this time I went the night before and stayed at the Seaview B&B 6, Brierylaw, St Abbs. I highly recommend it. The owners are really friendly and generous with their time, and they went out of their way to make me comfortable (I had a luxurious bath), and ensure I was well-fed.
St Abbs over the undulating hills, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Maps and interesting facts
I took photos of the Ordnance survey (OS) Explorer map 346 entitled Berwick-upon-Tweed, Eyemouth, Cockburns Path etc, before I left my accommodation.
I left at 8.30am and walked the St Abbs to St Abbs Head path again. The National Nature Reserve is a paradise for birdwatchers, hikers and great fun for tiring out children. I scouted round the first little mound to save my legs at this early stage and remembered nuggets of information I gleaned from the Ruth and Barry at Seaview:
that the guillemots are starting to return from their winter sojourn
that, ‘St Abb’s Head is carved almost entirely out of lavas, which are flows of molten rock across the earth’s surface. These lavas were sticky and flowed slowly because they are composed of a silica-rich rock called andesite (named after the Andes Mountains).’ from the Edinburgh Geological Society pdf
that the sea cleanses west-east along the coast making for the calm waters which delight scuba divers.
I saw two joggers and a birder, but no hikers during the whole day, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
This is a walk with wild and varied terrain
Then the first climb: I had to stop several times because I was so unused to it; I realised that my poles were uneven (one for a child and the other more sturdy, for adults), and the new gaiters which were discovered in the back of one of mum’s cupboards had long straps which are supposed to be trimmed before using – they kept getting in the way. I could feel a headche looming (a reminder to drink water regularly as I hike), and the cold wind was at the nape of my neck. I was mighty glad for the rucksack protecting my kidneys – it would have been freezing if I hadn’t been properly dressed. Let’s hope, I thought to myself, that it’s 8 and not 10 hours as some of my treks have been. It looked so easy on the map!
I am so grateful for my decent boots, mismatched walking batons and new gore-tex gaiters (waterproof material which you wrap around the lower legs to stop mud and water entering over the edge of boots or up the bottom of trousers). They still had the security tag on them which Barry kindly released me from before I left). Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
I could feel Xmas, heavy and bulky around my waist. Wow! was it hard work up and down what I discovered were the highest cliffs in Berwickshire. Overhead, pairs of birds were chasing each other, long-necked with a wide wingspan.
Mire Loch and the North Sea in the distance, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Mire Loch and the yellow gorse, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
The closer I got to the water, the louder the seabirds and the wind. The white sky was dissected by the trail of a plane, and I had forgotten the red, the pink-burgundy-purple of the land round here. ‘Between each lava flow there is commonly a reddened zone, because the lava may have been weathered for hundreds of years in a subtropical climate until the next lava covers it’ (Edinburgh Geological Society pdf as above).
Going downhill on the road, the silence descended and the view opened up again, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Gorgeous Geology
Sniffing on account of the cold wind, I came to my first path dilemma – do I go by the road or off to the right? There was no sign. I chose the road, but was very unsure and got into a bit of a (short-lived) state about it, trying to look at the photos I had taken of the OS map without my phone being blown out of my hands, and comparing them to the insubstantial BCP leaflet while the wind was coming towards me like nothing on earth. There was a sign further on, so the road was the correct course of action.
When I rounded the headland to be faced with this bay, I was astonished to remember reading someone who said he hadn’t noticed the strata of rock, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
The second female runner, red faced, grinned as she ran on, then stopped to hold open the gate for me. As she disappeared into the distance, I was left with the sound of the waves. I adore the quiet.
My poles stuck into the soft, brown clay which soon changed to clods around the edge of a field where cattle had clearly been. The cow pats had orange fungus (pezizales) on them and there were great clumps of shiny, black pastilles, deer droppings.
It struck me how little I know about so many jobs: diving, fishing, farming, lighthouse keeping, all of which I depend on. Such things I mused as I walked.
In the distance, a single fisherman in his orange all-in-one suit was chugging along at the same time as laying his nets. He was followed by squawking, white birds. Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
I heard the birds going sweeeak, squweeeak, sqweeeak, sqweeeak, sqweeeak, tda, tda, tda very fast!
I, on the other hand, was going so, so slowly and feeling incredibly unfit, breathing heavily on the ascents – great exercise for inner and outer health. As I paced, I could feel my heart sighing. My head was still zizzy and a bit anxious, but I could also actually feel myself grounding, as if lead was working its way down my legs which of course made them feel altogether too heavy to climb hills. My system was settling. The intense breathing had cleared away some of what was clogging my lungs; the bowel clearing which went on an hour after starting, resulted in a very easy sensation in my abdomen. This was good for me.
Cliffs, stiles and wind turbines
What sort of terrain was it? Two stiles, a little burn, up a very steep bit, over a stone wall, ribboned white, and through a gate with a metal spike to shut again after me – I struggled with it. More stout stiles, wind turbines and wet burns (where your water bottle might fall out of its pouch, getting muddy even around the lip under the lid), even more stiles (too high for short legs), curving round contours and up more slopes – pwhew!
After the highest cliffs (the Tun Law Forts) and the two admiralty poles (to measure nautical miles), the path hugs the coast (I went inland by mistake). The sea was all glassy, rippling gently in the wind. The wind was incredibly heavy up here, but down at the sea it looked magical. The path is sometimes dizzingly close to the edge of steep gorges with white foam at the bottom. The gorse was olive green from a distance, and their glorious sunshine flowers matched the yellow arrows.
The stunning landscape of the Berwickshire Coastal Path is, generally, well signposted. I was warned by two sources that it is easy to get lost – maybe my several years of experience paid off, because I only went off-course for a sum of 10 minutes or so over the day. Here you can see the various possibilities which converge at one point
Then there was a beautiful flat stretch: Small brown birds were tweeting. They appeared and disappeared like helicopters doing vertical take-off and landing practice (skylarks?). I couldn’t see any dolphins or whales, which I always wish I could, but then I realised how lucky I am to see seals almost every day outside my house. Gulls with black wing tips were gliding over the sea. There were feathered swarms, like bees, inland over the sheep-filled fields.
I heard the sound of a quad bike before I saw it, like the brrr you do with your lips, spitting saliva a bitty, to make a baby laugh. Then I saw a man holding back a collie dog with great difficulty. He gestured and spoke, but the wind stopped me from hearing what he said. I got the gist and waited. They were driving the escaped sheep back up the cliff and we all had to be very careful in case they panicked and rushed in the wrong direction, to their death.
This was my first ‘proper’ walk after injuring my left foot on the Portuguese Camino. It had taken months to heal and I was nervous about future walks, but I became more confident as the day progressed. My ankles felt weak – that was the lack of Scottish hill walking practice – and so I was careful to place my feet flat where possible, which sometimes hard on the side of these hills.
The fawn-deer-brown bracken was lying almost flattened to the ground after winter storms. Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Higher and higher, I looked back at the most wonderful rocks which angled down and reached their guano covered fingers into the sea, some with athritic knuckles all jagged as if they had rough skin.
Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
More sheep
For the first time I saw sheep head-butting each other, their hind legs sort of bouncing off the ground as they did it. As soon as I stopped to watch, though, they stopped too, like embarrassed teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t be – it was so funny.
Three hours in and the ground was flatter – forest and fence, new coppice of some type of pine. Ditches full of rainwater were squidgy to negotiate. There was not much sign of a path here until the next metal fence and a gully with thorn trees, inland.
On this walk, you just keep on going and you eventually get there. I arrived at Dowlaw (say doolaw) farmhouse at 12 noon – 3.5 hours exactly which was good going given that the time for this stage was listed as 3.5 – 4 hours. As you approach the dwelling, remember to turn right through a small copse, do not take the left at the farm machinery.
The half way mark – Dowlaw
I lay down and rested out of the howling wind for a few minutes, but it was very wet. I had been hearing a conversation going on beyond my left shoulder which when I stopped I couldn’t identify the origin of. Slowly I realised it was the wind turbines turning, chatting away to themselves.
I followed the road and then left it as the map showed, perhaps too early, because there was a dearth of signs. I traversed grass with almost no noticeable track to speak of. Yes, the signs were unclear, seeming to point across more moorland, but I was unsure. There was a car with its engine running, a solo man in it, a big screen on his dashboard that he was watching, despite facing out to sea.
I was very, very tired by this time, so I was glad that it was more level, overall, on this final stretch. I was amongst the sheep, passing through gate after gate, and molehills were everywhere. It must all be taken carefully – the route twists and turns, over waterways and round field corners. When you doubt that you are on the right track because you come to a junction where there are options, scan far, far ahead into the distance looking for a small pole with a yellow arrow and a blue and white sign to guide you.
Torness shining in the distant sun, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Next was a farm yard with very pretty, nervous calves inside a barn, and three barking dogs, enclosed. Crows lined up on the telegraph wire. A sheep with a horrible rasping cough was on my left. It was if something had gone down the wrong way, most distressing. In the road in front of me were two running, waddling birds (game birds? I did hear shooting earlier). Every now and then they took off, their wings whirring as fast as those of flies. More cottages were ahead and smaller, brown birds with white tail feathers twittered away. They looped horizontally in and out of the hedgrows as if they were hanging the decorations.
Flora and fauna -Old Cambus
My eye was drawn to the catkins flibbaling in the wind, snowdrops harbouring under a stone ledge, pussywillow shining white, and hogweed/cow parsnip in flower. Thoughts flitted in and out about a book I was recently given: Melissa Harrison’s Rain. I wasn’t sure about it at the beginning, but it was starting to grow on me – four, easy essays written about seasonal walks in different parts of England, all about rain and the effects it has on animals and the earth – interesting facts, well written. I wondered to myself if she learned from books / the internet or if it was local lore from people she had spoken to along the way.
‘Here and there hazels have produced their yellow catkins; there are hips bright as blood, too, and beside the path a straggle of field mustard, most likely a farmland escapee…’
This was Old Cambus and I went straight on, as far as the T-junction, and there I thought I must be wrong. I was right! Retracing my footsteps (right hip and soles sore from road walking) I asked a woman getting into a car and she pointed me to the seagreen shed. I had to go past the garden with the tin / metal sculptures of a sheep and a pelican.
Turn right at this cottage, walk straight down the left hand side of the field and then, although it is counter-intuitive, turn right (do not go across the farmyard full of wood even though there is a sign pointing left there). Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
So, now I was going back in the opposite direction (sea on my left) to another sign in the corner of the field. Then, straight downhill (not left) towards the sea. There was a ruin up ahead.
The ruin seen from the other side. The day was brightening as it came to its end. Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Siccar Point
Although the path goes inland here, I was able to get a photo, later, looking back towards the famous Siccar Point or Hutton’s Unconformity.
Siccar Point or Hutton’s Unconformity, of immense geological interest, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
‘In 1788, James Hutton first discovered Siccar Point, and understood its significance. It is by far the most spectacular of several unconformities that he discovered in Scotland, and very important in helping Hutton to explain his ideas about the processes of the Earth.’
‘At Siccar Point, nearly vertical sedimentary rocks of Silurian age – greywacke sandstones and mudstones – are covered unconformably by a younger sequence of red sandstone and breccia.’ The Geological Society
‘Hutton used Siccar Point to demonstrate the cycle of deposition, folding, erosion and further deposition that the unconformity represents. He understood the implication of unconformities in the evidence that they provided for the enormity of geological time and the antiquity of planet Earth, in contrast to the biblical teaching of the creation of the Earth.’
Over a cattle grid I traipsed, and took a right with lots of signposts giving mileages to Cockburnspath which turned out to be erroneous, but kept me forging forwards at the time. A long stretch along the edge of a fence was very steep with very little space to walk.
Pease Bay
There was Pease Bay ahead – how did they ever get planning permission to fill the bay like that with caravans? Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
I sat for five minutes and ate some sugary snacks before stumbling down a long flight of wooden steps to Pease Bay, Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Up a very steep road on the other side, past some houses, I joined the very end of the Southern Upland Way (which starts at Portpatrick, south western Scotland 214 miles / 344kms). More tough steps, this time, up.
Crossing a burn with little waterfalls on a boardwalk, I came across a sweet bay which could not be reached except by boat.
Beach cusps – scallop-shaped patterns made by the sea at the edge of the shore where waves have collapsed into a thin bore. Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
The complicated coastline of Berwickshire with the picturesque houses of Cove and Torness Power Station in the distance, looking towards Edinburgh, Scotland
Cove and Cockburnspath
At Cove, there are caves in the red rock and stacks to rival Orkney’s. Striated rock comes down into the water. I spied a single cormorant on a rock with another swimming towards it out at sea. A solitary, brown, fluffy caterpillar was at my feet.
On one side a man mended his car, on the other, a funny dog jumped off the ground in his enthusiasm to be petted – cute or what! Berwickshire Coastal Path, Scotland
Past a field of prize-winning sprouts, this stretch is noisy with motorway traffic and, as I passed under the railway, yet another train sped across. I viewed the peace and biscuits graffiti which was exactly as ‘Ettrick Shepherd’ on the Walk Highlands website stated (long distance walks / Berwickshire Coastal Path / St Abbs to Cockburnspath). I am indebted to him for his account, which I read before I walked.
Never mind the spelling, it’s the sentiment which counts! Berwickshire Coastal Path coming into Cockburnspath at the end – hooray! Scotland
I arrived at Cockburnspath at 4pm, before it was dark. To get the bus back to Edinburgh, you need the stop on the Bowling Club side of the road. It turned out I could have got the 4pm bus, but I went for a celebratory cup of tea at the post office and village shop (which very sadly closes in 5 weeks due to bereavement) and so, missed it. I waited over an hour, regaled by very loud rock music coming from the house nearby, as it got darker. My right cheek was glowing hot from walking all day, much of it with the wind in my face. Thankfully, it’s a nice old fashioned bus stop with a covered wooden seat but, being wet throughout from the sweat of the walk, I chilled very quickly and so snuck behind and changed into dry clothes from the day before.
Camino Portuguese da Costa – Day 13, October 1st 2019
Leaving Caldas de Reis
Caldas means hot springs and although a foot fountain was right outside my hostel, there was no encouragement to bathe mine as they dissuade you for hygene reasons.
Towering palms beside the Igrexa de san Tome Becket (the British St Thomas a Becket), Caldas de Reis, Spain
There is a Bishop’s mitre on the door and otherwise I cannot find out what the connection is between St Thomas a Becket and Caldas de Reis – although of course he may have made pilgrimage here.
Street art, Caldas de Reis, Camino Portuguese, Spain
One of the many beautiful stone fountains you can see on the Portuguese Camino. Here emblazoned with the shell symbol of paths meeting at Santiago de Compostella
Walking out of Caldas de Reis, I looked down a long valley, the view spoiled by a pylon, Spain
Field pumpkins. Although there were squash everywhere in the fields and gardens, I never saw them offered on a menu
Reflections in the traditional, central washing area with what appeared to be self-seeded white lillies randomly dotted around. Carracedo, Spain
Further down the road were clumps of pink lillies growing wild on the banks like the lupins do in Scotland along the motorway between Edinburgh and Perth.
Iglesia San Clemente de Cesar, outside Caldas de Reis, Spain
Tall brassicas growing in O Cruceiro, Spain
Three Bird Toadflax (Linaria triornithophora). I used the Leafsnap plant identifier app – free)
Memorial and location of Albert’s ashes, left by his friend. They had planned to walk the Camino together, but Albert had died on the operating table beforehand. Camino Portuguese, Spain
There are many such places to be found along the paths of the Caminos de Santiago.
Cemetery, Camino Portuguese, Spain
Sunshine in the form of canna lillies with their buxom seed pods, Spain
Gourds (used for carrying water by early pilgrims) and a camino shell on a rusty metal cross with plants and inscriptions, Camino Portuguese, Spain
Prickly pears, Spain
Pontecesures (on the way)
Coming into Pontecesures with its industrial pollution, Spain
This cafe was recommended in a guide which I read. It was truly idiosyncratic, run by one man who has his own way of doing things, takes offence easily, and is dedicated to the Camino. Pontecesures, Spain
Just before crossing the River Ulla, on the right at a corner (if I remember correctly) is the place in the above photo. With makeshift furniture and varying quality of food, it is a somewhere to sit out of the sun and get refreshments. It appears to be donativo, but the maitre d’ expected payment and it was obviously a rather random affair. He was not chatty with me, but did serve up the ‘last’ bowl of vegetarian stew (it came recommended). He took a liking to the young couple who came in later, but sent another man who asked questions, packing! The flags and the individual nature of this place reminded me of Manjarín on the Camino Frances.
The Rio (river) Ulla, Pontecesures, Spain
The Glory Bush (Tibouchina urvilliana) flower. (Thanks to Name That Plant on houzz.com)
After crossing the bridge at Ponte(bridge)cesures and climbing up the other side in full, hot sun, the path took me along the banks of the River Ulla towards the San Antonio (St Anthony’s) Monastery of Herbón.
These kiwi fruit were drooping off the stalks and there were acres of them, on the way to Herbón, Spain
The route wound along the banks of the River Ulla, sometimes amidst the undergrowth, although the signs were pretty clear, Camino Portuguese
This time I did not bathe as I was keen to get a bed for the night in the monastery on the opposite bank.
Weir, River Ulla, Spain
Red as well as yellow arrows here. Up and down I went, towards and away from the river, before crossing and climbing uphill away from it. Camino Portuguese, Spain
A small salamander basking in the sun!
Herbón Monastery
Walking around the walls of the Herbón Monastery looking for the entrance I spotted this shrine, Spain
I was pushing myself (not great for the still-painful foot) because of spening time over lunch and knowing that there is always competition to get a bed at the Herbón Monastery. I passed a couple who were clearly needing some ‘romantic’ time by the river. They were in no hurry to get there before me.
And there was the queue stretching back from the entrance in the wall – only two spaces were left and approximately four hours to wait before opening time, Herbón Monastery, Spain
It was nice and warm and there was plenty to see (photos below). People came to join the line, but were too late and left again – it was a little way into Padrón because it is a detour to get here.
Old friends met up and new ones were made while waiting, Herbón Monastery, Spain
The church of the missionaries, Herbón Monastery, Spain
The young couple sauntered in after quite a while, but were too late and went off again.
Seriously old trees – all knarled and full of character, Herbón Monastery garden, Spain
There were others with injuries far worse than mine. A small group decided to leave, calling a taxi, whereupon exactly the same number arrived late (after others had already turned away) and so they found that there were spaces for them. It just goes to show!
French map (1648) on the wall of the reception area of the Monastery at Herbón, showing the many caminos converging on Santiago de Compostella.
Eventually, after a light shower, we were let in and welcomed by the volunteers. It was very efficient. The accomodation was in small cubicles of two bunks each, ranged along a corridor. (That’s my mess on the bottom bunk!)
Franciscan Seminary 1891-1991. This monastery is in danger of being shut down because there are no young monks coming into the Order, but they do a lot in the village, so it is hoped that it will survive. Herbón Monastery, near Padron, Spain
After a break in which I spent time meditating in the sun, we were taken on a tour of the chapel, cloisters and other parts of the building. This is practically compulsory and very interesting. The monks were missionaries, sent overseas to spread the word of God, and those left at home ran a school on the premises.
The sparkling golden altar, Herbón Monastery, Spain
I loved these little angel heads with wings holding up the column, Herbón Monastery, Spain
Cloisters, Herbón Monastery, Spain
Stone statue and cross in the garden, Herbón Monastery, Spain
The large garden sports vineries (there is no-one to keep them going now, sadly), kitchen garden (partly in use, as far as I could see), water which has been tested and found to have lots of minerals in it so is truly healing, and various levels and attractive sections making it really interesting.
A place of meditation, Herbón Monastery, Spain
View from the garden, Herbón Monastery, Spain
Healing waters at Herbón Monastery, Spain
Dry, brown Autumn leaves and sweet chestnut prickles bursting open
Untended vines, Herbón Monastery, Spain
Wall shrine and fountain, Herbón Monastery, Spain
To reward us for such a long guided tour and talk, we were given a good meal (included in the 6 euro price) around long canteen tables and there was a lovely atmosphere there.
Note: There is always a decent vegetarian option at the shared meals on the Caminos
When I travel away from Edinburgh, my aim is clear: either to walk Pilgrimage (taking the paths people have trodden before me, where their steps have created tangible layers of spiritual tradition); or to explore a given area, what to me is virgin territory.
But when I am home, my walks are more prosaic – to and from work and the shops for my messages (used in Scotland, meaning errands) – placing my feet on known land, pavements I have walked so many times. Then my focus is on forging new connections between familiar places, seeing the same views from alternative perspectives and finding something new in them.
On Jan 11, I joined in the Snapshot Synchronised Walk (Women Who Walk Network) taking a route from Causewayside in a near-straight line to York Place.
After a day of teaching, a good tramp is therapeutic. Via ghostly vennels, northwards along narrow-walled passageways, up slopes, down flights of steep steps, I discovered a gothic-glowing steeple, a jaundiced arch lit by 19th century streetlamps, and scary blue eyes in a repurposed church. The extra-mundane exuded from the normal.
Corner of South St Andrew’s Street, Edinburgh, Scotland
I walked Causewayside from Sainsburys, past Summerhall with its ghoulish green up-lighting,
I meandered along the edge of the Meadows, and the South Loch Gin Distillery (which I hadn’t seen before),
South Loch Gin Distillery, Edinburgh, Scotland
I kept the University on my left,
Until I glimpsed the rear of the National Museum.
I picked my way over the cobbles of West College Street,
Across Chambers Street,
Down steps to meet Guthrie Street half way,
Crossed the Cowgate and took a mini-right to find Stevenlaw’s Close (which I didn’t know was there). Looking right I paused to snap the Stramash Live Music Bar.
Stramash Live Music Bar, Edinburgh, Scotland
On the opposite side of the High Street was Fleshmarket Close,
On the opposite side of Cockburn Street was the downhill flight past the Halfway House:
The Balmoral Hotel in the distance, on the corner of North Bridge, Edinburgh, Scotland
Through Waverley Station and up the other side, I crossed Princes Street and took South St Andrew’s Street where I popped my head into the old Bank of Scotland which has become a mighty fine looking hotel.
The old Bank of Scotland building, St Andrew’s Square, now The Edinburgh Grand, Edinburgh, Scotland
I posted a thank you letter in a pastel pink envelope I had been carrying in my bag for a few days, to my sister in London.
The rain came on.
The wind blew me through the bus station (where a small bag of mini-cheddars were outrageously priced) and out onto York Place, carefully avoiding trapping my toes in the tram lines.
Rounding the corner to Broughton Street I found that the bus stop was closed – again.
All the way down that road I tripped, head down because of the driving wind,
…where I waited 7 minutes, as my coat became increasingly sodden, before taking the bus to my home by the sea.
