Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Last weekend, I crossed the Irish Sea for a more social visit to the southwest of the island where my parents live. While there was a spot of lawn-mowing, hedge-cutting and other bits and bobs to be done, there were chances for limited immersion in hill country too. Friday saw us heading to Gougane Barra in West Cork. The sun was playing hard to get until later in the day but that didn't spoil any enjoyment derived from poking around Coillte's forest park in the Valley Desmond. There remains one trail that I would mind doing but it's best never to exhaust the possibilities of anywhere. In any case, having had good weather for photography on a previous visit meant that it didn't matter on this occasion.

If I had been dissatisfied, Saturday was going to rub it in with its cloudless skies and strong hot sunshine but I wasn't to be bothered. The sun did change my colour as I attended to lawn edging and other tasks but it was nothing that a rub of after-sun soother couldn't sort. It turned out that Sunday was going to offer more of the same so hat-wearing and sun screen were my defences against the attentions of strong sunshine. Letting down my guard wasn't an option.

Though many were heading for the coast, we struck on for Killarney. With the heat that was to be felt, it wouldn't have been the wisest to embark on a long hike without acclimatisation but it was not going to be that sort of day. In fact, the time was taken up with driving from spot to spot and strolling around them too. The locations included Looscaunagh (where the old disused pub is now for sale; who's going to buy a derelict building in the middle of nowhere in these times?), Moll's Gap, a stop to the west of Ladies' View, a lunch stop by the Upper Lake and Muckross House and Gardens. Though there were coach parties being conveyed, Moll's Gap didn't feel overrun and it was only as we came downhill again that more and more other folk were being encountered.

Though there was a suggestion of haze, no cloud occupied the sky. Not was that a complete change from the last time that I was around there but giving the sun unobstructed access to the countryside had a dramatic visual effect. In fact, I really have to think back in time to pick out a visit to Iveragh that was blessed with such good weather. The last one must have been of a Sunday in September not long after the turn of the century, when we were celebrating a family occasion with a ride out from Ross Castle around Lough Leane on the Waterboat. Before that, my memory is taken to 1995 by photos that I took that long ago. A few years before that, there was a drive down the rough track into the Black Valley and on to through Gap of Dunloe. Maybe I need to visit more often so as to even up the odds of getting optimum weather.

With my luck with the weather around Killarney, it might be that 2010's visit will stick in the memory for being a photographic sweet shop. Only the chance of having an earlier start or a later finish would have made it better. As it was, I had to contend with high sun and the risk of lens flare but I came away with something better than anything that I got before regardless. The viewpoints were by now familiar to me so I had ideas as to what to do with them and there was no fumbling in the ever strengthening sun. That's not to say that i wasn't open to anything that came my way and I now have quite a few photos to organise.

Apart from a longer out and back walk down the spit of land that separated Muckross Lake from Lough Leane. It was all short strolls for me but that was no bad thing with temperatures hitting up to 25º C. That's not to say that some weren't embarking on longer journeys with a charity cycle in progress and a good of folk out on (hired?) bikes. Some of the latter were later found with their feet in the cooler waters of Muckross Lake and who'd blame them? Others were loafing around in front of Muckross House as I caught it catching the sun for the first ever time.

As good as the day was, I left with ideas for the future with the main one being the prospect of a walk all around Muckross Lake. That would need more time than I had and figuring out something to occupy less patient souls while that is in train will be a must; I ended up most of half an hour late on returning from my walk and it sounded as if every minute was an eternity for someone, not good but I was at peace and I didn't let it get to me. An ice cream stop in Barraduff put that behind us and I got to capture a view of the Paps between the more urban paraphernalia too.

The day after couldn't have been more different with its foggy greyness but things got ever brighter as I continued north to Dublin as I commenced my eastward return. It had taken over well by the time that my flight took off into the air. On the way over Wales, I spied the hills of Snowdonia and made out gashes like the Ogwen Valley and the Llanberis Pass. They were helping me to draw distinctions between the Carneddau, the Glyderau and Snowdon itself. In the midst of all this, I even tried looking for Moel Siabod but without certainty as to whether I had picked it out from the surrounding bumps though the Conwy Valley was unmistakable. Apart from recollections of Welsh hill outings, all this was reminding me that I am in the middle of giving the Snowdonia photo album in the photo gallery a makeover. That's not finished yet and new photos of Kerry already are in mind as is doing something with the uncertainties of the bank holiday weekend that is upon us. All this is the sort of activity that has to take second place to the necessary tasks of everyday life but it never stops in its own way either.

Those Irish strolls may have been short but I was left feeling so at ease that I ended up thinking that I don't go over there often enough. That's an old problem but resolving it could be interesting if perusals of recent issues of Walking World Ireland are to have any effect.

Though sunny evenings were tempting, this past weekend has been one spent doing other things at home. Getting some trip reports out of the way were among those and the one on a recent trip to the Scottish Borders had me looking at entries from the early days of this blog. What struck me was how eerily brief they were. One even had more details on travel and accommodation than the actual walking!

Satisfyingly, it didn't take me too long to start addressing the balance and putting the outdoors wanderings on centre stage. Saying that, more water had to pass under the proverbial bridge until the travel pieces really got sidelined. Still, seeing the way that things have developed makes me wonder how it is that they went the way that they did. Encouragement from regular readers must have had something to with as well as reading the accounts shared by others. All that must have made me think that I could say more and the result is what you see today. There is one nagging thought though: do I need to watch how long I make these things? It's something that I'll keep in mind from this point forward.

It's been a while since my last trip up there but last weekend saw me back in the Scottish Borders and sampling more of its attractive countryside. 2006 was when I last frequented these parts and so decided that it was high time for a return. Then, it was the turn of St. Mary's Loch and Ettrick Head while on a trot west along the Southern Upland Way. That followed a reconnaissance visit based in Lockerbie that involved a poke around Moffat on a largely cloudy weekend. That's not to say that the sun hasn't been out either with previous hikes around Peebles, Traquair and Innerleithen being blessed by blue skies.

Last August's visit to Edinburgh had the unfulfilled ulterior motive of an outing to Melrose to savour the delights of the Eildon Hills. However, a forecast of rain raised the prospect of not seeing them at their best and that was one reason why they have lain on the ideas shelf since. It was that and thoughts of seeing Melrose Abbey that drew my mind to the area again.

Everything may have looked sunny in Carlisle but Selkirk was cloudy when I got there. It stayed like that as I left the town to cross over Ettrick Water as I headed for the Philiphaugh Estate. The possibility of using the Borders Abbeys Way to get to Melrose was set to one side in favour of using the old right of way between Selkirk and Three Brethren before following the Southern Upland Way first to Galashiels and then to Melrose.

To my surprise, the Philiphaugh Estate has set up trails for visitors to follow and a leaflet to go with them. While it may not have been my intention, I ended up sampling a track through forestry that gave me a sneak preview of my surroundings from an elevated vantage point. After retracing my steps, I followed the vehicle track named the Corbielinn (or Corbylinn as the OS has it) Road until it left woodland near a reservoir.

Beyond that, it was onto the slopes leading away from Long Philip Burn with a spot of track hopping until I found myself on one leading me straight towards the Three Brethren. The sun was making a better fist of peering out through the cloud cover and caused me to stop a lot on gradients that otherwise weren't the unkindest. The views were changing all the while too as I gained height, keeping my mind occupied and warding off any sense of impatience. This observation leaves me wondering if it as unchanging surroundings that were the cause any rising impatience during my long walk on the Isle of Man but there may have other factors at play too.

The three cairns that are the Three Brethren came into sight soon enough and grew steadily larger as the approach to them grew ever shorter. They caught the sun too as it ducked out from behind the broken cloud from time to time and I started to think it a pity that someone placed a fence though them. Once beside the cairns, the line of the old drovers road that now carries the Southern Upland Way stretched out to the east and to the west. A useful signpost confirmed that Galashiels was nearer than Traquair, verifying the sense of my route.

With the highest point of the day behind me, I began to lose height as the day grew ever better; it had all the hallmarks of being one of those delightful late spring and early summer evenings of the kind that I met once around Peebles and never have forgotten. There was no doubt about the way to be followed though I found yet another signpost and it included the option to return to Selkirk if I so desired, via a track that I left further down as it happened, but I was bound for passage through Yair Hill Forest.

Mercifully, some forest clearing allowed greater views of what lay ahead of me. Yes, there was the sight of wind turbines that no doubt would annoy some but they weren't all over the place either and enough was left in a unblemished state for unperturbed enjoyment. Woodland wandering demanded good attention to a map but any waymarkers that I met were a useful backup too, not that they made good map reading unnecessary. Without going around in any circles, veering off track or any other difficulties, I found myself at Yair Bridge for a crossing over the Tweed as planned.

From Fairnilee Farm, it was all pastoral wandering in pleasing sunshine. There was height gain but it was fairly gradual and views back towards Selkirk open up behind me; it looked as if it was stuck in constant shadow. Sheep and lambs abounded as did stone wall field enclosures. You'd be forgiven for thinking that you were further south in Britain than Scotland as I crossed from field to field.

In time, the views over Galashiels came too, first from a large neatly constructed cairn much like one of the Three Brethren. From there, it was downhill again as waymarkers draw the wanderer closer and closer to Gala Hill. The Southern Upland Way chooses to go around it and skirt Galashiels in doing so. Saying that, there are plenty of paths on Gala Hill shown in Explorer 338 and Galashiels has its share of waymarked paths too, some of which use part of the Southern Upland Way. Though it would mean gaining some height again, I can see the point of including the woods around Gala Hill and the trail gains height after Galashiels anyway. The Galashiels variant can be left for anyone who wanted it but I think that having the SUW going over Gala Hill would bring its own rewards too and cut down on any urban walking.

Having to face more ascent was not welcome to tired limbs but it did offer recompense in the form of more views of Eildon Hills, this time with the added interest of Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott's former home. After the last loss of height for the day, I was to find myself on the opposite side of the Tweed from Abbotsford and among trees for a last fling before urban walking was to take hold. More river crossings followed with one of Gala Water coming before another of the Tweed.

The latter brought me along a former railway cutting and the tarmac underfoot was taking its toll on the soles of my feet; is it time to get better insoles for my Meindl Burmas? This part of the SUW is shared with part of the National Cycle Network and the distances on their signs did everything that they could to dispel and impression that Melrose and Galashiels are right beside each other. With sore feet, not seeing much in the way of progress can be dispiriting and it was with relief that I gained one final stretch by the Tweed with hard dry grassland underfoot. When that was behind me, there was the matter of pavement pounding until I found my lodgings for the night but that didn't seem to take so long.

The next morning began with blue skies before a rain shower came the way and there were a few more before the day set to improving steadily. After the one before, it was to be one for gentler pursuits such as relaxed inspection of Melrose Abbey. Other than that, there was a taste of St. Cuthbert's Way before I stopped to soak the views that any gain in height revealed. Not having the time to use that trail to continue in among the Eildon Hills, I left the idea of exploring them for another time and subsequent map inspection revealed a possible alternative itinerary that would achieve that end. Following St. Cuthbert's Way from St. Boswell's to Melrose not only would take me through the aforementioned hills but also near Dryburgh Abbey too. It only needs one excuse to return to any place and I have found it for the Scottish Borders. Let's hope that it doesn't as long to get back as it did before.

Travel Arrangements:

Return train trip from Macclesfield to Carlisle. Outward bus journey onward to Selkirk and more buses to bring me back from Melrose by way of Galashiels.

Last July, I popped over to a rainy Douglas on a day trip from Dublin but my only being in one place and and time limitations meant that the Isle of Man remained one of those places that to me are terra incognito. However, I did come away with guidebooks and travel timetables that would come in useful for a longer visit like that I made over the Mayday bank holiday weekend. One thing that they revealed was that there was no way that I could make the best of all of the island's attractions in a few days; I'd have to pick and choose.

It's as if there's a little something for everyone from gentle promenade strolling to railway heritage to hillwalking. Spending time around the likes of Castletown, Laxey or Ramsey would easily fill up a few days, it appears. If my memory serves me correctly, there was a music festival ongoing in Ramsey over the course of the weekend for those seeking a bit of culture. The islands's steam railway was running extra services on the Sunday too so they were aiming to please.

Of course, I was after a simpler pleasure: going for a walk in alluring countryside. It so turns out that there's plenty to offer there too and the mix is of coastal and hill country exploration. A collection of long distance trails give structure to any planning and there are quite a few from which to choose. First up is the island's main coastal trail, Raad ny Foillan in Manx Gaelic (and on all signs) or Road of the Gull as it is in English. After that, there's the Millennium Way that passes through the hill country at the heart of the island as it goes from Ramsey to Castletown (or vice versa, if you prefer) either shadowing or following the route taken by the Manx Kings in olden times when Castletown was the island's administrative centre. Complementing its north-south direction is an east-west trail called the (Steam) Heritage Trail that follows the former railway alignment from Douglas to Peel. Then, there's the Bayr ny Skeddan (the Manx Gaelic again is what you'll find on any waymarkers) or Herring Way that follows an old route taken by fishermen between the posts of Peel and Castletown. As if these weren't enough to keep anyone busy, there are other public rights of way too so there's nothing to stop you creating your own long distance trot if you so desired it.

Given that there are enough options to keep anyone busy for a few weeks, I needed to select something for my few days. That ended up being a part or two of Raad ny Foillan with the main piece being the section between Port Erin and Peel on the Sunday. Saturday was taken up with travelling but there was some poking around of Douglas and Onchan later in the day. Given that the most recommended part of Raad ny Foillan in my reading was between Port Erin and Port St. Mary, I was tempted to walk this shorter stretch on Monday before I left for home. However, fatigue following the previous in conjunction with the attractions of Peel on a sunny day drew me back around there for a final fling and some photographic action.

Saturday

While flying would have made a tempting travel option, I stuck with the rail and ferry combination that served me so well in July. That made my starting time a more civilised affair and it was 14:00 when I arrived in Douglas. The fact that I had left sunny weather after me on the British mainland could have been troubling but the situation was put out of my mind because there was plenty of time for the sun to make its appearance. Given that the air was dry anyway, there could be no complaint as I set about locating facilities such as the bus and railway stations (there are two of the latter with a steam railway serving the south as far as Port Erin and electric trams serving the north as far as Ramsey; the island has more of a railway heritage than you'd expect). My trots took me along the promenade (part of Raad ny Foillan; the coastal path offers variety) and around the town of Douglas before heading out the coast around Onchan before returning through its main street. Save for the cliffs that I admired, there wasn't so much of a wild feel to this daundering but the next day was to address that deficit. Given my unfamiliarity with the place, it probably was just as well that I made a stronger acquaintance with my whereabouts.

Sunday

Overnight, cloudiness had given way to blue skies and sunshine. The pleasant start to the day wasn't wasted even if it meant a late getaway to Port Erin. By that time, any white streaks in the sky may have come to be replaced by wads of clouds but they did nothing to dispel the sense of satisfaction already granted by the day. Travel on the upper deck of a double decker bus allowed wider views over the surrounding countryside and road works meant a stop to progress that allowed me to cast an eye and even aim a camera lens in the direction of Snaefell, the island's highest summit. The bus called at Ronaldsway Airport before negotiating the narrow and appealing streets of Castletown, once the island's capital and still in possession of its castle. The place certainly looked deserving of a longer visit but my plans were set, even if they meant leaving some of the sun after me.

Port Erin was cloudy and overcast when I arrived so there wasn't much camera activity on my part as I sought out the start of my walk. Signs for the Road of the Gull were conspicuous by their absence so paying close attention to a map was unavoidable. While taking a break between sessions of map studying, a friendly local pointed me to Bradda Glen without my asking; it was to lead me in the right direction. Whatever thoughts I may have had regarding the navigational ease of coastal walking, doubts remained in my mind as to the correctness of my course. Nevertheless, Milners Tower was a useful landmark as I made my way towards it and that act granted views south towards the Calf of Man. On a sunnier day, I might have been struggling with lens flare but the largely overcast conditions still condemned any photos to being record shots. It was a turning into day for walking and not photography.

Leaving Milners Tower after me, I gained height on the way up Bradda Hill. As I did so, the path took me sufficiently close to the cliff edge as to concentrate my mind and it was breezy at the time too. Eventually, the path pulled in from the edge to allow any vistas to be enjoyed in a more relaxed state of mind. Not only did they feature what lay behind me but also what lay ahead of me with Lhiattee ny Beinnee and Cronk ny Arrey Laa looming to the north with less taxing rolling countryside lying beyond them again. Looking east drew my eyes to less wild parts from my wilder outpost with even Port St. Mary coming into view.

Bradda Hill felt loftier than its more than 200 metres of altitude might suggest and I felt every metre of that on the steep descent to sea level. The worn surface of the path wasn't the most confidence-inspiring either but I had been in that situation so many times that I just got on with the job with Fleshwick Wood to my right. After dipping my boots in the Irish Sea at Fleshwick Bay, I soon started to pay for all that loss of height on the first of the Carnanes. Apart from the toll from all the exertion, patience was tested too and time felt as if it was speeding by on me without much in the way of distance covered.

Eventually, the gradients eased and it was gentler ambling to the top of Lhiattee ny Beinnee before I lost 100 metres again; the first half of my walk was having lots of ups and downs but this probably is the hilliest part of the coastal trail and my choice of route was guaranteed to keep me busy for the day. Looking to my right, I could see how much flatter the land was and I could make out the eastern coastline of the island. the day. There were easier walks if I so desired them but I'd be wondering if I was missing out then.

After coming down from Lhiattee ny Beinnee, I spotted a track that skirted its lower slopes. For those wanting a less taxing stroll, this may have been an option with an off-road start from Surby, not so far from Port Erin. In fact, I spotted a mountain biker heading exactly for that end as I was stopped for some food by the side of the A36. From there, it was on up the slopes of Cronk ny Arrey Laa, the highest point of my hike and where patience was needed again on the ascent. Skies darkened over me as I kept gaining height and I wondered if I was in for a wetting. Luckily, it never developed beyond a few drops that were gone by the time that I reached the summit so I could stop and take in the surroundings, among which was the hill of South Barrule and a triangulation pillar placed away from the summit of the hill. The latter seems to be the Manx order of things if finding the same arrangement on two different tops is typical.

Getting down from Cronk ny Arrey Laa required due care and attention so as to go in my intended direction and not another. Once I avoided any navigational pitfalls, I found that my ascent had taken me up the hill's gentler side because it's no walk in the park if you are coming at it from the north as I suspect many do. Going downhill as I was meant that I wasn't so concerned about gradients but there were boggier stretches and sunken paths to negotiate later on. Even so, it didn't take me too long to come to a junction of paths near Eary Cushlin. Things looked less certain so I invented my own route using the Isle of Man Survey 1:25000 map that was in my hands rather than poking around near cliff edges even if the land was owned by the Manx National Trust. Also, increasing time consciousness had its own contribution to the decision too.

My alternative took me onward via a good public footpath and a bridleway that really didn't merit the classification. It was so rutted that anyone taking a horse, bicycle or motorcycle over it without having to rethink their plans would amaze me. Even with the diversion, I never was far from the coast and I met up with Raad ny Foillan gain to look back about saw how clear the way looked from that end. From there, I followed the trail onto tarmac where it passes through Dalby and didn't leave the A27 until near Glen Maye. If I was following the OS Landranger map for the Isle of Man, my route might have been slightly different with a diversion around by Niarbyl. Apparently, its southern views are very pleasing but I was getting plenty of those anyway.

Leaving the road, I picked up a well signed path that was to drop me to sea level and take me along a little of Glen Maye before I gained height again though it was nothing tortuous or like the stiffer climbs that I encountered earlier in the day. From there, the trail really hugged the coast but I dealt with that and any undulations that came my way without any real drama. Corrins Tower still lay ahead of me as it had done since commencing the descent of Cronk ny Arrey Laa but steadily came nearer and nearer.

At this stage in the walk, I was keeping an eye on the time to see which bus would taking me from Peel back to Douglas again. Even so, my mind was concentrated by the proximity of cliff edges and views towards the hill country not far to the east of me. Knockaloe Plantation drew nearer in its own good time as did Corrins Hill. Eventually, I was go along the seaward slopes of the latter and that proved to be the most unsettling part of the journey; seeing a path (even a wide one) following a shelf over nearby cliffs does tend to set you mind racing… Nevertheless, I did scuttle along that shelf to reach more friendly surroundings and a vehicle track for a nearby transmitter.

Views over Peel opened out before me with a passing shower making a rainbow without even nearing where I stood. For the way down, I ended up eschewing the coastal trail for the vehicle track and was rewarded with ample views over Peel Castle and up along the coast in the fading evening light. It was a just way to end a walk that had taken its toll with all those ups and downs. The last act was to navigate through Peel's narrow winding streets to get to a bus stop in time; that nearly was the toughest navigational test of the day and with a tired head too. As I journeyed east again, I counted myself lucky to have avoided any rain while out on the trail because the rain showers through which the bus passed weren't the lightest. In fact, the only real wetting of the weekend was from light rain while I walked the last stretch to my lodgings and that didn't bother me so much at the time. On a weekend with an uncertain weather forecast, you cannot decry things like this.

Monday

After the previous day's endeavours, I decided on an easier morning before I returned home again. Having not had much sun while wandering the west coast, I decided on a return to Peel when it looked like a day of blue skies and sunshine. Rushing around the coast, if that's even possible, between Port and Port St. Mary didn't sound far and I was carrying all of my kit for the trip anyway. As it happened, I ended up taking in a short circuit around Peel.

What I had in mind was to mount Corrins Hill and take in the surrounding vistas and make some photos of them if I was careful with lens flare. To do that, I picked up the bit of Raad ny Foillan that I missed off the evening before and took a relaxed approach so as to soaking in the views. Sharing some words with a talkative chap taught me that the Mull of Galloway could be seen to the north. There was little sign of the Mourne Mountains of Northern Ireland but I reckon that I got to see them the evening before anyway.

After staying a while on Corrins Hill, my little trot took me downhill to pick up a piece of Bayr ny Skeddan before meeting up with the Heritage Way, part of the former railway between Peel and Douglas. Back in Peel again, I headed towards the castle and followed the promenade while en route to the stance for a bus back east. Seeing a lad with rucksack and other paraphernalia must have looked strange to anyone after gentle seaside fair but Peel is quite a mixture anyway. First, there's heritage with the ruins of a castle, narrow winding streets and a cathedral. Then, there's industry with an electricity generating station and fishing. Following all of that is pleasure, be it from sailing, gentle strolls by the waterfront or more taxing ones around nearby hills. Might it be a worthwhile base for a walking trip? That may remain to be seen but it's an idea.

A Place to Return?

Funnily enough, someone who I met on my wanderings did ask if I'd be coming back to the Isle of Man. While I couldn't give a definite answer to that query because the future is not anyone's to see, there are plenty of reasons for a return. After all, I only could sample a small piece of the island's delights in the few days that I was there. Weatherwise, it was kind to me even if I chose what probably is the toughest part of the coastal trail. The Isle of Man may not be the largest of locations but it is packed full of quiet corners as I found, even when you aren't far from built up areas. You could say that my long hike on Sunday brought me into no conflict with anyone and most of its length was nearly as quiet as what you'd find on South Uist too. Douglas wasn't as busy as you might expect either and there was plenty of space on the headlands of Port Erin and Peel for all of us. The Isle of Man feels like a good place for a quiet getaway; that certainly is how it came across to me. While I'd avoid the time around the TT, I'd have no qualms about returning to savour the coast between Port Erin and Port St. Mary or places like Castletown, Laxey or Ramsey.

Travel Arrangements:

Return train journey from Macclesfield to Liverpool with changes in Stockport. Isle of Man Steam Packet Company ferry between Liverpool and Douglas. Bus travel from Douglas to Port Erin or between Douglas and Peel.

After a bank holiday weekend spent expanding my explorations of the Isle of Man, last weekend allowed a getaway to a part of the world that I haven't really visited for nearly four years: the Scottish Borders. Since then, a new long distance trail has appeared on OS maps, the Borders Abbeys Way, and caused to me to look at the copyright date that was on the one that I used when I last got to sample the area around Peebles and Galashiels. With the legend "2002" peering back at me, I began whether a new edition was needed but I persevered with the older one while up there.

It was sufficient for the task of hiking from Selkirk to Melrose via The Three Brethren and, from there, the Southern Upland Way on an ever improving afternoon and evening; I left the Borders Abbeys Way with its requirement for remembering where it went for another time. The Eildon Hills were catching the light from time to time as I grew to realise the distance between Galashiels and Melrose. Very deceptively, the proximity of Galashiels, Tweedbank, Darnick and Melrose would lure you into thinking that everything is close together but the whole conurbation put together is at least five miles long!

After the exertions of the previous day, Sunday was left as an easy day before I returned home again after a stay in Melrose. That energy expenditure made for tired legs so I contented myself with enjoying the impressive sight of Melrose Abbey (yes, a camera was set into action too but it's often what gets me out and about in the first place) on a day that kept improving after a damp start. There was an uphill potter along St. Cuthbert's Way to take a closer look at the Eildon Hills but time constraints put a stop to any potentially foolish designs that may have lain in my mind.

A look at a map since then has popped an idea into my mind: using St. Cuthbert's Way for a walk from St. Boswell's to Melrose that might grant me glimpses of Dryburgh Abbey and would pass over the Eildon Hills. Those hills are crisscrossed with paths but there are other possibilities with sections of the Borders Abbeys Way allowing for sampling of the countryside around places such as Kelso, Hawick and Jedburgh. All in all, it looks as if there is plenty on offer to the passing wanderer in search of pleasant countryside with a smattering of low-sized hills.

After all, this is countryside that I should have been exploring when I lived in Edinburgh but for a combination of succumbing to the attractions of a very nice city and being blinded by attractions further north. Then, I would have considered cycling and the practicalities of getting a bike out into the Borders with no car would have raised their heads too. Until the restoration of the rail link to Galashiels and Tweedbank, that one will persist because I saw no evidence of bicycle carriage on any buses that I used over the weekend. In a way, that's a pity because there is the Four Abbeys Cycle that echoes the intent of the Borders Abbeys Way and there are quieter roads about the area too. That new railway could make things interesting but the prospect of its packing the area with visitors is hard to envisage with all of the space that there is for everyone.

One thing that struck me over the weekend was how quiet everywhere was and it is an area where you unleash your reverie without too much fear of intrusion. Of course, you still have watch where you going but that effectively is the limit of things. Those ideas that have come into my mind already should keep me returning and I do hope that it's more regular than it has been.