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Tallinn

May 2019 – it was cold and dull with wind and rain once I arrived.

I took a bus (Lux Express 8 euros 2.5 hours) from Tartu, and walked from the bus station to KE’s flat. KE is a dancer /choreographer / therapist who I discovered on the internet and emailed out of the blue asking her if she might like to meet. She very kindly invited me to stay with her, I enjoyed giving her a Shiatsu, and we had great conversations.

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In1991, Estonia won independence after many decades of Russian (and German) occupation, during which their culture and autonomy were almost non existent. Much architecture exists which is redolent of those years.

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‘Cornflower’ is the name of this metal sculpture. It is a memorial which ‘commemorates all victims of the Soviet occupation and those who gave their lives for the freedom of Estonia.’ (from the plaque beside the artwork). Created by Paul Saar, 1990, Tartu, Estonia.

It was not as easy to find an affordable place to eat. The prices were higher (it being the capital and me being in the tourist area) and some places looked shut which actually were not. It was, of course, hard to translate the signs, and my fingers were numb from using the map on my phone. I found a blog which recommended Estonian chocolate which I tried to give myself a quick boost from being freezing and having let myself get very hungry. That did the trick! Lunch at the Teater in Rataskaevu.

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The place I found was great. I had a filled pancake (their speciality) and a tea for 5.5 euros.

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Tallinna Reaalskool, Tallinn

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Lutheran Church, Tallinn

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Freedom square, Tallinn
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Freedom square, Tallinn
St John’s Church / Jaani Kirik, Freedowm Square, Tallinn

St Nicolas Church and Museum

Tallin Old Town

Kiek in de kok (round tower) and Maiden Tower (4 sided tower), Old Town, Tallinn

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Orthodox church, Tallinn

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Tallinn Art House Kunstihouene, Vabaduse, Tallinn

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Anna Ekston, leader of the Estonian National Ballet 1944-51

I went in search of an art gallery which the woman in the Tartu Kogo Gallery recommended to me and on the way I got to see a different quarter of the city.

Theater – front of the Eesti Draamateater Tallinn

Politseiaia Park

Skyscrapers, Tallinn

Small older buildings amongst the high rise buildings, Tallinn
The Temnikova and Kasela Gallery, Tallinn – cutting edge contemporary art
The End, Edith Karlson and Dan Mitchell, Temnikova and Kasela Gallery, Tallin
Municipal stone statues, reproduced across the city, Tallinn

I saw on the map that I was one minute away from the Kassikohvik cat cafe which was on my list. Unfortunately it was shutting when I got there, but the woman in the yellow jersey let me in to take a few photos. It had been recommended to me so I feel I can put it down here. Expect a five euro supplement for adults, and less for children.

2 sculptures on the outsides of buildings

Gardening outside the flats, Tallinn

Architectural detail on the windows of the blocks

Other than one grumpy bus driver, every other single person who served me or showed me round, gave me a bed or otherwise was where I was, was friendly and kind throughout my month in Estonia, and I am very gratful to them all for speaking English to me when all I could really say was ‘thank you’ in their language.

I bought a bunch of non-hot-house flowers in Tartu from similar women to these.

A lovely Latvian woman I met in the hostel in Parnu, recommended that I walked up to the Kohtuotsa viewing platform where the inscription ‘The Times We Had’ can be found. She also showed me photos of the wonderful Jagala waterfall (bus 152b) a distance away from Tallinn.

Having flown to Riga, I returned to the UK with Air Baltic.

Other sights in Tallinn Estonia Tourist Board

https://www.britannica.com/topic/history-of-Estonia

Tartu

May 2019

The forests and cleared forests of Estonia

I took the bus from Pärnu to Tartu (Lux Express, 9 euros) and passed through more forests, including areas which had been cleared and the church on the mound in Viljandi, approximately half way along the 105 kilometre journey between the two cities.

Tartu is the second largest city with 101.000 inhabitants and the total population of the country is smaller than the population of Bucharest.

Tartu University

Located in eastern Estonia, it’s known for the prestigious, 17th-century University of Tartu (the population is made up of one fifth students). The old town is centred around the university’s neoclassical main building, and the cafe-filled Town Hall Square, home to the Kissing Students fountain.

The Kissing Students fountain.

The modern Science Centre AHHAA has hands-on exhibits and a 4D cinema.

Kirik (a bit like Scots kirk) St John’s (above and below).

Still in use but in a poor state of repair

In contrast to Estonia’s political and financial capital Tallinn, Tartu is often considered the intellectual and cultural hub.

 

Tartu is renowned for its beautiful pastel coloured 18th century buildings

Cars actually stop if you want to cross the road. Travelblog.org

There are hiking tracks along the banks of the river Emajõgi, and I am told that you can be in a more natural environment in 15 minutes, but the weather was very cold until my last hour, so I didn’t go there until then.

St Paul’s red turret – detail

If you stay at Hektor Design Hotel or the Looming hostel, don’t believe g…. maps about how to get to the tourist part of the town! Instead, wind your way through the streets which are parallel and at right angles to Rïgli, and you will find all sorts of interesting places:

The University natural history museum
Impressive graffiti
Karl Luik, mayor of Tartu 1920-34
The award winning architecture of St Luke’s United Methodist Church, Tartu, Estonia

Next to Looming is a yoga centre and I had a lovely class with Anna Morozova (see YogawithAnna on Facebook).

I stayed in Hektor which has a lot going for it – a clean, private, single room with writing desk and a kitchenette and toilet right outside, shared with 3 other rooms, but there is no sound proofing and every door closing and footstep echoed and reverberated. For an extra 3 and 5 euros you can use the washing machine / dryer (once) and sauna (unlimited) respectively. I had the latter (women separate from men) to myself all 3 times I used it. There is a cafe downstairs which looked good, a smart, shared kitchen and a book collection to borrow from. Other downsides: there is something wrong with the drains so my shower / toilet smelled terrible, it is on a very busy main road, quite pricy, the basement where the sauna and stuff was creepy, especially in the evenings, and it was approximately half an hour’s walk from the centre.

The Toomemägi Park is on a steep hill and is well worth a visit: a beautiful green area, cafe, playpark and below –

The Observatory
The ruined Tartu Cathedral, in hilltop Toomemägi Park, has two restored towers with viewing platforms
Chimneys coming out of grassy mounds. This was my view when I did my Tai chi one morning
The Angel Bridge, named after either the English or the pretty face of Rector Parrot
The Devil Bridge
View from the park

To find the park, go to the foot of the hill by the playpark, in front of the pink church which is now a kino / cinema and either climb the steps or walk up the cobbles under the Angel Bridge (above).

This debonair gentleman stands in the calm sitting area next to the Elektricteater cinema

Here was my favourite café – Kohvik Krempel is a few minutes walk from the main square. The middle two photos are of an Estonian healthy drink called … which was different both times I had it (one to be eaten with a spoon and the other the consistency of coffee – it’s cold, made with oatmeal, fruit and kefir – delicious!

Like lots of the coffee shops, it looks shut from the outside. Do not be deterred!

I loved the Botanic Gardens.

Bridge looking towrads the main house, Botanic Gardens, Tartu
Spring’s bright colours – tulips
Poppies
Iris
Pansies, hyancinth and tulips in contrasting colours
Reflections and dandelion
Lillies in front of the ornamental lake, bridge and summer house
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They have an extensive collection of mosses and lichens
The glasshouses

Other sights include the Toy Musem:

Tartu Toy Museum with lots of barbies

The leaning art museum:

Unfortinately closed between exhibitions, when I was there

The theatre museum:

Theatre Museum, Tartu

The Natural History Museum

The side of the Natural History Museum – the windows are an art work

It turned out that the charming Kogo Gallery was a minute away from my hostel. I was impressed by the woman who watched over it (friendly, helpful and knowledgeable), as well as by the exhibition of Ede Raadik‘s Sailin’ on the Red Sea contemporary art work.

In a cosy square with cafes and interesting buildings.

The black, white and gold building I have used for the title photo is the Faculty of Science and Technology, University of Tartu.

Visit Tartu city blog

City planner blog

Adventure writing without a Beard – Part 1

At last, a round-up of books by female travel writers and adverturers. Sadly none of them by me – yet….

Amazing how none of them get into the bookshops, as she says!

Beth's Kept Secrets

Outdoor sports and Adventure books written by female adventurers. 

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Even the most adventurous of us loves to curl up with a good book after a day hiking, cycling, climbing, kayaking, swimming or just working and escape on an adventure from the comfort of the sofa. Adventure writing is our inspiration; it takes us to new places, allows us to experience new things and lights a spark for our own exciting dreams and plans.

However, according to displays in several book shops recently it may appear that it is only men that can go on epic adventures across icy tundra, cycle vast distances, hike through unexplored rainforests or climb the world’s highest peaks. Of course, we know this not to be true; there are thousands of women around the world making equally epic journeys, pushing limits and despite what some bookshops think, they are writing about it! A post on the wonderful…

View original post 1,393 more words

Pärnu

I took the bus (#72 cost 1 euro) from Massiaru to Pärnu. There was snow on the ground. May 2019

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Taken the next day when the sun was shining! Pärnu Bus Station
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From the bus station I went past a beautiful Orthodox church, Pärnu
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My first stop was a Supelsaksad cafe /kohvik – it was bitterly cold and the hostel was not admitting us until 2pm, Pärnu
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Then it poured torrentially so I went to the Uue Kunsti Muuseum ‘New’ art gallery up the street. There was a donky outside to welcome me, Pärnu

I loved the textile exhibition – reegel ja rituaal (rule and ritual) by the Estonian Textile Artists’ Union – a lampshade as if it was covered in dust and what looked like spiders webs, penguins made from felt, and a herring on a T shirt!

Above from left to top right and then bottom right: Sometimes a herring is just a herring by Krista Leesi; Sume (the lampshade) by Triin Talts; Good Ideas To Hatch by Erika Pedak.

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Sama Muster (The Same Pattern) by Marilyn Piirsalu, MONA (Museum of New Art), Pärnu, Estonia
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Giant’s Lantern by Kristiina Tuura at MONA (Museum of New Art), Pärnu, Estonia

Helsinki based, Tuura made this work from recycled rubbish, and found objects with school children and immigrant students. It pays respect to hundreds of years of tradition of  lantern making in Syria.

There was a great and on-going sound of music and revving which I later realised was a motorbike rally. I had never seen so many leater-clad bearded folk in one place when the event ended and they all descended on the town to eat!

Pärnu is the riviera of Estonia where the rich come to the beach. It has typical wooden buildings of a much grander style though than I was sued to in the villages.

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A beautiful doorway, Pärnu
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The back of the school (below) and the side of the Gunpowder Magazine Gym, built near the bastions to fortify the city, Pärnu
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Local school (red brick) with Estonian flag flying, Pärnu
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The spires of Kateriina Kirik (almost like the Scottish word for church – kirk), Pärnu
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G W Richmann b Parnu 1711 Constructed the first lightening rod in Easter Europe at the same time as Benjamin Franklin and unfortunately it killed him in 1753. Sculptor Riho Kuld, Pärnu
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August Jakobson memorial 1904-1963 professional writer, chief editor various publishing houses, Chairman of Estonian Writers Unions. ‘Vaeste-Patuste elev’ was his breakthrough novel, then ‘Tuhkur-hobune’ depict the life of workers in Räma, a district of Pärnu
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Lydia Koidula, poet 1843 – 86, Pärnu
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Eliisabeti Kirik 1747, Pärnu

I walked back through the Munamaumlaute Park iron where children were happily running and playing in the sun between showers, and where for the first time I could not see the view because there were leaves on the trees.

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I stayed at Hostel Louna. I was the only one in this 8 bed room for the first night and for the second I was joined by two women – one from Lithiania and the other from Lativia. We have some nice chats! Pärnu

Hostel details: great staff, no bunks, all clean, fresh laundered covers and towel, hot showers, big windows with lots of light, very good value for money (11 euro a night), great location, kitchen small and could do with improvement, my room was on a busy main road. Beside Tallin Gate and 2 parks, one with fountains, about half way between the bus station with shops, Pärnu museum, churches and tourist areas; and the leafy suburbs, painted wooden villas, above cafe, Museum of New Art and wonderful beach.

Both mornings I was able to do my T’ai chi on the beach – a very long and sweeping strand on the edge of the Bay or Gulf of Riga across from the Isle of Gotland and Sweden. Neptune kept watch!

I found a pine cone and stood like a tree remembering the garden at Massiaru. A man walked out of the sea. I didn’t see him go in. The same happened on Orkney. I tried being barefoot, but the second day I wore my boots – too cold! Despite having my swimming costume on it was 4 degrees with a bitter wind, so, no! I also tried very hard not to glance at the people looking at me when I was supposed to be concentrating!

I discovered that if I orientate myself towards the sun to start with and move through the sequence (140 + or – moves), I come back to a new front it has moved by then – obvious really.

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Supelrand Beach, Pärnu

 

 

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The municipal library, Pärnu

Features of the River Pärnu.

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Apparently the only post box (yellow) is by the back of the bus station opposite this train, Pärnu

I also enjoyed the Pärnu museum crafts exhibition.

Near the hostel is Jenny Kruse, a second hand shop extraordinaire (avatud = open), Bum Bum a loud beer joint which serves food, a Chinese Medicine clinic, and the famous Tallin Gate.

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Chinese Medicine treatment makes people healthy! Pärnu
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The Tallin Gate, Pärnu

See my Estonia page for supermarkets and travel info

Visit Estonia webpage

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This big food shop was still open 7.30 at Port Artur near the bus station, Pärnu

Estonia – insects, lakes and log cabins

April 2019 Massiaru, Estonia

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This little critter looks as if someone has been doodling on her in a bored moment – a V shape here, a straight line there, 2 half tear drops with black dots inside, colour that in black, leave that bit orange!

I could not get a photo of the big peacock-coloured beetle. He spent all his time negotiating the grass and falling over at almost every blade. He must have been used to it because he flipped himself over and just carried on.

Hawthorn was watching a moth which had got caught inside the double glazing, so he couldn’t get to it, but he spent a long time watching and trying, bless him.

Like a battlefield – you could almost see people picking through bodies looking for coins. It seemed strewn with sadness

The new leaves have come out next to the pussy willow which now look like they are bursting with excitement at the feel of the sun.

There is virgin growth everywhere
Spreading their leaves to get every particle of warmth
Magenta primula
These wood anemones have taller stalks than the ones from 2 weeks ago, now the air is more benign
Delicate and simple blossom

As I stand facing the rising sun to do my morning exercises, the sunshine gleams through the dandelion leaves at foot level.

I came across the most stunning lake
Beside a log cabin
Made in the old style with interlocking logs
The paths are soft under my boots
And the frogspawn is bubbling

The bus passes through mile after mile of forest with the longest straightest tracks dissecting them. Some are dense pine and others are deciduous, more spacious with a matching green floor. Occasionally they have been cleared for agricultural purposes (in the centre of one huge one were 2 storks lazily pecking), or for motorbike racing.

Along the rivers are clumps of bright celandines

I am picking up a few words of the notoriously difficult Estonian language : thank you sounds like aita; tee is street without the s, r and second t; kohvik is coffee shop ; kool is school – you can see why I know those ones!

Everywhere forest is being cleared for agriculture
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Overhead is heard the constant honk of geese and squeak of swan
One evening’s walk I was accompanied by herds of cattle with calves on both sides of the road, lowing loudly
Really unusual pink flowers growing straight out of the ground as if someone had half buried them
We ate these maple flowers, battered, deep fried and sugared
Sprats are the locally produced fish
One of my favourite morning spots for ‘standing like a tree’
Dandelion half plays, half delights in the day

All those trees mean that of course the main house building material is wood and they are usually painted beautiful colours which shine in the evening sun.

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

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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. 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 it 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

 

Berwickshire Coastal Path: Berwick upon Tweed to Eyemouth

12th January 2019

The second highest cliffs on the east coast of Britain are to be found along this path.

It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,

and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.

The impeded stream is the one that sings.

by Wendell Berry

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Sunrise as I waited for the bus in Edinburgh

In the middle of winter I headed south on a train to Berwick-upon-Tweed along the coast of East Lothian with the sea on my left. It was just after 9am and I could see brown fields, a slate grey sea, even darker land on the other side of the Firth of Forth and the silhouettes of the trees without their leaves. As it lightened there was more detail: cows in coats; four-by-fours speeding between fields; ruined castles; and low, red-roofed farm buildings. The train was quiet.

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Just a light pack today, including my new flask which Isobel gave me for Xmas

I am hiking part of the Berwickshire Coastal Path (45.5 kms / 28.5 miles in total = a recommended 3 day walk). Berwick upon Tweed is technically in England (although their football team is Scottish!) and my destination is Eyemouth, 17km (11 miles) away.

The fields become green as I travel and on my left is the point of Berwick Law, the only high place in this flat landscape. Combine harvesters are frozen mid field; barrels of wrapped up straw lie waiting; there are borders of louring pines in the distance; and beyond, a complicated sky: wispy dark clouds against a bright blue though pale background and at the same time, little bands of cotton wool balls stretching from east to west.

Found photos of (from top left) Torness Nuclear Power Station, Dunbar Town House, St Abbs Head Lighthouse.

A few golden strips of corn have been left lying in the fields, birds are black shapes in the bright sky, the bare bones of the trees are like hardened and flattened seaweed fans. People were sniffing and blowing their noses all around me.

There were acres of half-built houses as I drew near to Dunbar, birthplace of John Muir, friend to all walkers and nature lovers. A small town with the arrow-head tower of the newly-painted-white, 16th century Town House; Saturday people with pushchairs; glimpsing the sea between buildings.

Then once more rolling by the deep chestnut loam, and a more varied landscape. We were edging further from the sea where the iconic Torness nuclear power station like children’s blocks which have been fitted together wrongly. Sheep grazed in miles of brussel sprouts fields; low, dry stone walls divided; and a solo bird perched, waiting for the morning to come. We skimmed past the St Abbs Lighthouse, where I was planning to walk to today (see below).

I could see the path I was going to be walking at the top of the cliffs as they tumbled down to the rocks and the white waves below. Men in red and blue were playing golf, their trolleys angled beside them, pools of sand dipped in the ocean of green turf.

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Arriving at Berwick-upon-Tweed station
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A detour almost, before I started, through Castlevale Park to the riverside walk, to take a photo of the brick bridge across the River Tweed

As always, it was difficult to find the beginning of the walk, so, here are the directions for you: come out of the station, go up the little slope, turn left and then take the first right.

A man with 2 dogs stopped while I was taking a photograph of the Round Bell Tower , not knowing that I was waiting for him to come into shot so that I could include him! He told me that he used to work for the local newspaper and one April Fool’s Day he took a photo of it leaning, said it was toppling over, and published it with the caption, The Leaning Tower of Berwick. Crowds of people came to watch it, he said!

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The upright Round Bell Tower, Berwick-upon-Tweed

Next to the tower is Lord’s Mount, Henry VIII’s gun tower (completed in 1542). Its massive wall contains six gun positions and a latrine. The artillery included ‘the falconet’ which fired a solid ball 1000 yards (914 m).

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Lord’s Mount, Berwick-upon-Tweed

Before I even got to the sea I lost my pole, which I went back for and luckily found, and a glove which I didn’t.

The Northumberland people I met were lovely and friendly and gave me directions out of the town and onto the path.

Oyster catchers were wading and ridges of diagonal rocks showed dark against the washed yellow sands. I went down the steps to a tiny cove, and along the well-trodden beach full of footprints and seaweed. There was the sound of trickling water as I made my way up at the other end.

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The first bay
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A dead seal was washed up on the shore. A disturbing, though not an unusual sight

Up above were ranks of holiday caravans where shells had been hung between railings.  I could see a red and white lighthouse beacon at the end of the pier in the distance and hear the single, shrill whistle of a bird overhead – just as if he fancied me.

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Looking back to the bay, Berwickshire Coastal Path
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Winter seedheads and kind grass underfoot, the sounds of waves crashing and my Camino shell clinking at the back of me

Immediately I came round to the next bay. It was larger this time with delightfully pig-pink cliffs and tufty tops. The wind was trying to blow the pale, beige stalks seaward. Once again it was just me and another man with his dog. Vestiges of yellow flowered gorse gleamed on the bank opposite.

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Clattering seed heads above and the odd flower low down sheltering from the winds; a nettle, some brambles and litters of rubbish

The squawk of the train reminded me that the railway line matches the path to the left, and I was walking between that and the sea.

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Wind turbines lazily turned despite the knots, and there were rusty metal steps down to the beach
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The path curved round a mixture of natural rock and man-made straight lines with a very enticing cavern underneath

The links (golf course) was on my left; slippy mud down to a little wooden bridge over a trickle of water; the sweet tweet of a leaf shaped bird overhead, its wings fluttering fast. It was a very narrow, windy and uneven part so I was glad that I had found my pole to steady myself – it is definitely not accessible to wheelchairs or baby buggies.

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Marshall Meadows, a lovely name – the first signposted stop, 2.5 miles

The path follows the highly eroded coast line in and out; my nose was running, tickling; and my mind returned to other similar trails: Normandy,  Brittany, and Orkney.

It is an impressive landscape: thin horizontal layers of pink rock, tiny slices but massive boulders. My eyes were getting a welcome break from the computer as I gazed out to sea and admired the hues and cries of this stimulating view and the birds who live here.

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The camera is not doing the colour of the rocks justice. They are almost carnation pink, practically unnatural except that they are all real

The sky was opening up; I could identify the peeps of oyster catchers and see sparks of black ravens; I was scanning the sea for any sign of whales. My forehead was cold as I walked straight into the northerly wind. How I appreciated not heaving the heavy rucksack for once.

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The upstanding and nearly empty sorrel had turned the same deep chestnut brown of the fields

I only stopped for a couple of minutes for a comfort break and to put some chapstick on my lips, but I was already cold afterwards. There were single, brown birds with long curving beaks (curlews, probably), and others in huge crowds sweeping around in the sky above me, sticking together in formation, communicating wordlessly. I was entranced by these murmurations.

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White horses and rolling waves

For a moment I wondered why I do this, especially in winter when it is so chilly. Then I looked out to the horizon and saw the world – so much bigger than me, and down at the rocks and the majestic sea stack – the land simply missing between it and the cliff; and it was good to be reminded how small I am.

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A sea stack – close-up

I saw the people in their cars rushing between Edinburgh and Newcastle on the A1, and the high speed train making its way down south to London. Here I was being blown and buffeted by the wind, breathing the fresh air, listening to the natural sounds around, the brushing of my feet as they passed through the grasses, stumbling and toppling over uneven ground which is good for balancing my brain, and looking ahead. Things were coming into perspective.

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A natural, geological arch

Up a short wooden ladder, over a stone wall and I discovered I was in a caravan park called Marshall Meadows. Much to my disappointment it was not the pastures I had imagined!

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It afforded me a few minutes of shelter away from the sea’s edge and the wind though

Back onto concrete I immediately felt my sore feet and realised I hadn’t been aware of them since the pavements in Berwick.

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Aah a sign! As I pass through the site, I wonder if the people who hire these caravans realise that their windows will look out onto the railway

By this time I was looking for a place to shelter and sit for a cup of tea and a banana to keep my sugar levels up. I didn’t want to lose my sense of proportion, which has happened in the past.

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Crossing the border into Scotland (the sign is written in English and Gaelic)

The Cuddy Trail is here. Cuddy is Scots for a donkey and the ‘beasts of burden’ were used to transport coal and fish from the shore to Lamberton and the Great North Road.

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I hastily put my hood back up over my woolly hat and found myself walking between two rows of barbed wire fence by signs saying to clear up your dog poo (it can be poisonous to farm animals)
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They were scared of me, yet interested. I think they were female sheep because they were multi-tasking: walking, eating and going to the toilet all at the same time!

I had to climb over the gate as the farmer, in his wisdom, had padlocked it shut despite this being a public right of way and well-known footpath.

Then I curved back towards the wild cliff corner and the sound of the crashing water. The wind was causing shadows on the ocean. It had that look about it as if it was rising up to the horizon and down to the beach. It was heaving. The surface colour looked flat and even, until I really paid attention to it. Then I saw the variations of the olive, seaweed and sage green, with slate, business suit, and pewter grays, all edged with white lace and set against a peach sky.

There were lots of helpful signs indicating that badgers, yellow meadow ants and peregrine falcons can be seen here, but not by me. I did get glimpses of the fulmars on the ‘cliffes’, nesting in their flint and white plumage, so far away that all the photos were too blurred to be reproduced.

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I was interested in a ruined bothy on the steep slopes which only the sheep could negotiate, and went to the edge to take a photo. That might have been where I mistook my way

Twenty minutes earlier I had passed two men getting out of a car and preparing to surf, clad in black wetsuits with their white boards. I bet they had a good time in those rollers!

It was then that things started to go wrong.

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A bowl of dark boulders – I shouldn’t have gone down there!

But I did. I thought, ‘really?’ but I couldn’t see anywhere else to walk as the railway came so close to the edge, so I went anyway.

I skirted the steep slope first of all, grabbing handfuls of grass to stop myself slipping and edging my feet into the side, until it became too hard going. Then I dropped down onto the rocks. They didn’t look too bad from a distance, but they were – it was really hard scrambling over them. I could see a way out on the other side and I still assumed that was the right way. I pushed and tore through the brambly undergrowth, I fell down and got myself back up. I persevered. My pole kept collapsing itself and up at the top was a sheep’s face peering over at me. I could see hoof marks where they obviously managed fine, but I sure was struggling. Was there a way? What could I do?

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Go back, that’s what! It was impossible. I was very hot and bothered and there was nothing for it but to retrace my steps, which was easier said than done and something I don’t enjoy. I traversed the rocks closer to the sea which were slippery as well as treacherously uneven.

I had completely lost my cool until I came across such a beautiful sight that I just had to stop and breathe.

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A calm pool between the jet volcanic rocks and the pink cliff profile

It took a lot of time (perhaps three quarters of an hour) and I used up a great deal of my available energy. And it took quite a bit of serious tramping to get over the anger and frustration of the experience. On the back of the BCP map it says: It may seem unnecessary to provide directions other than saying – walk north or south keeping the sea on your right or left!’ Am I the only person to have missed the most straightforward path?

Slowly I realised I had to relax and get back onto the right path. I had to let it go or I couldn’t enjoy the remainder of the walk, so I focused on anything but my feelings and picked up pace.

In my recording I said that I chose not to walk where two others were, around a field when I could clearly see a short-cut straight across the top of it. I saw the trampled down barbed wire and said to myself, I’m not falling into that trap again!

Next was a straight and concrete side road to Homestead, and I spotted a brightly coloured lifeboat chugging along. When I turned round, there was a deer lolloping in the undergrowth very close by with its beacon of a white tail. It seemed to be rather a special sight. The Medicine Cards say that when deer appears, ‘apply gentleness to your situation.

At 1.50pm, my phone battery was already down to 32% and I quickly came across another conundrum. I took a second wrong turn. This time I crossed a field to the left because it looked as if the alternative went over the edge. It was not clear, so I stood and debated and as the gate was open I chose to go through.

Right to the end of that green field I went, past all the sheep who may well have been watching wisely for all I knew! And then I didn’t know where to go but back – it was a dead end. Never again will I walk without an ordnance survey map, I declare to the sheep!

So I went through the other field (not in a straight line), climbed over a stile, and doubled back (presumably the path avoids the farm land).

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Burnmouth – not a sign of life, not a soul

There was the village of Burnmouth below me at last, tucked under the heights. I zigzagged steeply down in the opposite direction from the yellow arrows, behind the gardens and at last found a BCP sign. Amazing how this often happens at a time when there is absolutely no other possible way anyway! For some reason the walk is not as enjoyable if I am not going in the right direction.

Apparently Burnmouth was ‘once a hotbed of smuggling’ (tea, brandy, silks etc) engendering lively stories from 1780. A pretty but secluded village, it is divided into two halves with a harbour inbetween. Candy coloured cottages seemed to be for visitors. The tide was out leaving streaks of low rocks, as if someone had painted on a glassy surface and the paint had separated unevenly.

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Burnmouth from the tops of the cliffs

A man stopped to do up the zip of the woman he was with and my black mood meant I could barely manage to say a friendly hello. My knees hurt going down and my insteps going up. The sign pointed in the direction of two roads, one to the right and the other uphill. I took the path which ran to the right of a dour chapel, curving through woods, over a planked boardwalk, then up a steep hillside with a horrible groaning noise going on – something to do with the fishing in the harbour.

There was a handy bench ‘Dedicated to William Telford, born Burnmouth 1925’ for resting my weary feet and admiring the vista but I was very stiff when I got up. I hadn’t been walking for a month of so and it was showing. I thought I wouldn’t need the chocolate I bought yesterday and wished I hadn’t left it at home.

Blue tits played in the briars, zipping in front of me; silvery green lichen covered the branches. Humbled and cut down, I did not recover quickly. I was reduced to little more than zero miles an hour.

Once up high again and back into the windy onslaught, I needed a hat and two hoods – it was a mere two weeks after the winter solstice.

Then, halleluja! the sun started to show its lovely self. 3.15pm. What a wonderful light.

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The colours deepened, became lucid and my mood eventually mellowed
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Faint and fragile fingers against a mackerel sky
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See how the coastline meanders!
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The sky and sea got bluer and bluer. There were two options and I went over the wall, hoping it was the right decision. I found myself out of the sun’s warmth
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Self-portrait
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A yellow clad fellow walks southwards – that’s the right idea – wind at the back of him!
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I simply loved the contrast between the orange lichen on the wall and the blue and green beyond
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Rock macaroons
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The sun was starting to set. I felt chastened, very quiet inside
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I only got as far as Eyemouth, having lost valuable daylight time going the wrong way and needing to get the bus back

I had to ask for directions from a group of teenagers heading out for some fun, giggling. I wound my way along the jetty and around the end remembering that I was here for my birthday with Lesley in 2016. The wandering geese took no notice. I was aiming for the co-op store at the centre (ye cannae miss the co-op, it’s the biggest building in the toun I was told) and the most helpful girl who checked the bus times on her phone for me – my fingers were too cold to work mine and it was threatening to run out of battery.

I was focused now on getting warm and fed as I always am after a long day’s hike. I had to spend a great deal of time in a Wetherspoons in Berwick until my return train to Edinburgh, but I warmed up and rested my weary limbs.

I didn’t make it to St Abbs so I will have to start next time at Eyemouth and cover that stretch on day 2.

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All’s well that ends well! (one of Shakespeare’s ‘problem plays’ from around 1600)

Train: Edinburgh to Berwick upon Tweed (Scotrail £14.60)