St. Cuthbert’s Way – Another Ardith and Fred Adventure

Starting Melrose, Scotland – Ending Holy Island, England

This was the second and shortest of our three major hikes in the UK, this time following the ancient pilgrimage route of St. Cuthbert and other monks. St. Cuthbert, a 7^th-century saint and the patron saint of Northumbria, England, was the first Christian missionary in England.  He started his ministry at Old Melrose about 650 AD and subsequently became Bishop of Lindisfarne (also known as Holy Island).  The trek between Melrose, Scotland and Holy Island, England is a bit over 62 miles and is known as St. Cuthbert’s Way.  Fred Elder and Ardith Meier walked it in 2005.  Following is a short version of their adventure.

The journey began with a flight to Edinburgh from Chicago. We landed on July 3 and took a bus to the Highfield House, our overnight accommodation, where Ardith had stayed on previous trips to Edinburgh.  We explored Edinburgh a bit, walking down the Royal Mile and Princes Street, where store fronts were being boarded up and streets blocked by police in anticipation of large demonstrations connected with the G8 conference being held in Edinburgh.  (Ardith and Fred encountered similar demonstrations for similar reasons on two other trips to Europe.) Remember, the G8 is now the G7 as Russia was suspended indefinitely after its 2014 annexation of Crimea.  We viewed the Parliament building (ugly) and had an evening meal in an Indian restaurant.  Then we returned to our guesthouse via a walk through the Meadows – an expansive and green public park.

Our 4^th of July began with a breakfast of eggs and haggis ( a traditional dish of heart, liver, lungs, onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and broth) at our guesthouse. The haggis tastes better, by the way, than it might sound. We then proceeded via city bus to the main bus terminal and purchased tickets for our trip to Melrose, the official beginning of St. Cuthbert’s Way.  We had a bit of time before the bus left, so we walked around, browsing in Boots (a popular drugstore chain) and Waterstone (a book store), walking by the John Knox House (Knox was a Protestant reformer.), the cemetery on Regent Road, and Princes Street, the main street of Edinburgh.  The shops were closing up and boarded due to the pending demonstrations. At 1:05 we finally boarded our bus to Galashiels, where we transferred to a 2:30 bus to Melrose. 

The somewhat overcast skies were clearing and in Melrose we made our way to Birchhouse – our B&B for the night.  We had a little time and daylight left, so we walked to St. Mary’s Abbey, perhaps the most famous ruin in Scotland, founded in 1136 for the Cistercian Order; the surviving remains, however, are of the early 15^th century. The exterior is noteworthy for its sculptures of hobgoblins, cooks with ladles, and a bagpipe-playing pig.  Some believe that the abbey is where Robert the Bruce’s heart is buried. (Robert the Bruce was King of Scots from 1306 to his death in 1329.)  In short, Melrose Abbey was an imposing memory of the past. Near the abbey was a local pub where Ardith had vegetable curry and Fred had mackerel.  Dinner was topped off with ice cream and sticky toffee pudding, which we had first discovered on our Coast to Coast hike a few years earlier – a truly heavenly delight.  It was still light so we walked past the abbey to a bridge across the river Tweed and then back to our B&B and bed.

July 5 started with a “full Monty” breakfast of fried tomatoes, sausage, eggs, mushrooms, beans, toast and more.  The day was sunny.  After purchasing a battery for Fred’s camera, we climbed up and over a saddle (a hill) in Eildon and proceeded along the river Tweed, seeing herons as we walked.  We crossed the Melrose bridge, walked alongside a spring and came upon Maxton church, where we left the river Tweed and entered an overgrown weedy area to join Dere (an old Roman Road).  We walked the old Roman road the balance of the day with rain the last ¾ hour of the day.  All along, the scenery included rolling green hills and sheep grazing in the fields – the tranquil natural beauty of the Borders area of Scotland. We ended our day’s hike in Ancrum, a very small village (population 300).  Here we found a room at the Cross Keys pub.  We showered, Fred napped, and then it was time to head downstairs for sustenance, a chicken dinner, while we chatted with four women hikers.  After dinner, we watched the news, then slept.

 

July 6 started with a breakfast at the pub downstairs before setting off at 9:30 in light rain.  Our first brief stop was at Harestanes, where we inspected the attractive visitors’ center set in the beautiful countryside.  Then we crossed a bridge over the river Teviot and walked amidst the peaceful environs of grazing cows, woods and fields.  Next, we came upon the 15^th century Castle Cessford and found the long road to Morebattle – which we walked in the rain.  We arrived in Morebattle, with its population of 266, and decided to call it a day after finding a room at Templehall Inn, where we saw the previous night’s four women hikers having tea. Dinner was billed as “homemade lasagna,” which did not at all, however, seem homemade.  After dinner, we walked about the old churchyard and enjoyed the fact that the rain was clearing.  Again, it was back to the room for a bit of TV and to sleep.

July 7 fluctuated between sunny, cloudy, and sunny.  Breakfast included a fruit plate in addition to traditional fare. After being well-fortified, we left Templehall Inn about 10:00 with the sun shining.  We began walking up a pleasant slope and then continued on our way.  We passed sheep as we neared Kirk Yetholm, where we arrived about 1:30. We stopped for the day, rather early, but finding villages large enough to offer lodging often involved quite a walking distance.

We had a drink at a local pub where we sensed something amiss in the air as patrons clustered  around a TV.  We thereupon learned (TV) of the bombings in London that had just taken place.  (Islamic terrorists attacked the public transportation system, killing many.)  We found a charming room here at the Greenside House, literally on the village green.  After depositing our backpacks, we walked to the church and up High Street.  Next, we found a bench where Fred napped a bit.  Then it was dinner at Borders Hotel, where we ate lamb, vegetables and cheese.  Our post-prandial routine was again a short walk, some TV and sleep.

July 8 was a sunny, beautiful day.  We traversed moors, heather and walked amidst the ever-present sheep – some herded by border collies.  This was the day we changed countries, climbing over a stile that took us from Scotland into Northumbria, England.  We continued on and walked a stretch through some woods, after which we rested a bit and encountered two older British walkers.  We then proceeded, ascending a hill that offered a fine vista of the Borderlands.  Then we found ourselves in Wooler, nestled in the foothills of the Cheviot Hills, which was our next stopping point. 

Our B&B at Weetwood Farm turned out to be about ½ mile outside of town, so we had another short hike to get to the farmhouse where we were to spend the night.  The proprietress of the farmhouse B&B offered to wash our walk-worn clothes and we needed no persuading to turn them over.  She next took us via car to the Tankerville Inn where we dined on lamb, spinach, cream, cheese and beef tomatoes.  We walked downtown after supper and found some wine gums (wonderful chewy fruit-flavored sweets) at the local Co-op.  We then phoned our B&B and were picked up and returned to our accommodation.  We watched the news, a James Bond movie (come on – we were in England), and then lights out.

July 9 was our first morning to wake up in England this trip.  We had a full breakfast, including fried bread and black pudding (blood sausage).  This day found us doing a lot of walking on paved roads, to the discomfort of our feet.  There was little of the tranquility of the rolling hills of the Borderland. Also, we had to walk farther than scheduled due to a bridge closure.  We saw potato fields and then woods and the ubiquitous single-stemmed purple flowers called viper’s bugloss before reaching Cuthbert Cave.  Per legend, the body of St. Cuthbert was placed in this cave for safekeeping around 875 AD. 

We encountered many swarms of flies around the cave and therefore, did not linger long.  More walking brought us to Fenwick, a very small village of 16 houses and 103 people, where we phoned Brock Mill Farm (our B&B), situated at the outskirts of Fenwick, to be picked up.  We drank tea in the lounge at the B&B and then showered for dinner.  After a nap, the proprietress, Anne, drove us to the Plough Hotel, where Fred enjoyed steak and ale pie (stew in a pie) and Ardith had Cajun chicken breast washed down with a pint of John Smith.  After our satisfying meals, we walked to a local petrol station and learned they had the much sought after (by Fred) wine gums.  We then returned to the Plough Hotel, where the proprietress of Brock Mill picked us up to return to the farm. That evening we watched a TV documentary on geology followed by the news (much coverage still of the London bombings) before getting a good night’s sleep for the following day’s walk.

July 10, a Sunday, marked a week after our arrival in Edinburgh.  After breakfast, Anne  drove us to the causeway leading to the tidal island of Holy Island, our final destination.  A partridge mother and chicks were relaxing on the driveway as we pulled out of the farm. 

A little after 9:00 we began our walk across the causeway leading to Holy Island.  Timing is important here, because only under certain tidal conditions can one walk the causeway, only twice every 24 hours; otherwise it disappears into the North Sea. The causeway road is about three miles long, the first mile leading through the sea and then winding along the island. Our timing allowed us to walk the relatively dry causeway, a unique feeling walking through the sea, so to speak. That day was a bit overcast, which made for good walking.

Irish monks settled on this island already in 635 AD and the Lindifarne Gospels were created here in the early 8^th century. We arrived on the island about an hour later and found our way to the St. Mary’s church, where a service had just begun. We slipped into a back pew in our decidedly non-church attire, but we were not alone as other hikers had also reached this destination.  The Communion wine turned out to be mead, which somehow seemed quite fitting. Inside the church, a wooden statue dubbed “The Journey” was an impressive commemoration of the journey of St. Cuthbert’s coffin, carried by monks, when it left the island to escape vicious Viking attacks in 875 AD. 

After church we walked around the building and stuck our heads into the ruins of the 12^th century priory.  All the time, we closely watched the time so we could walk back via the causeway, which we successfully accomplished. At the General Store on the mainland, the proprietor ordered a taxi for us.  We walked to the castle, only observing it from the outside, roamed about a bit, bought some fudge, and then climbed into the taxi at 2:30 for a trip to Berwick, the northernmost town in England.  There we went to the train station to travel to Stirling, Scotland, via Edinburgh.  Fred’s younger son, Drew, had spent a semester at the University of Stirling and Fred wanted to see Stirling. 

In Edinburgh we had time for a brief shopping trip at Waverly Station to purchase some insect cream before continuing our train journey. Thirty-seven miles to the northwest, surrounded by rich farmland, we found ourselves in Stirling, where we first walked to the castle, then to a youth hostel where we obtained a list of B&B’s,  finding one on our third call.  Our proprietress was Mrs. Nammery, who offered us a slanty room at Queens 26.  Our evening meal was at a pub called Whistlebinkie and was not very good, although we were able to sit outside.  We walked around Stirling afterwards and took a photo of the Wallace Monument.  Wallace was a patriot, war hero and martyr.  Fred bought chocolate at a fish and chips shop; then it was time to head back to our B&B and turn in for the night.

July 11 found us up at 7:15 with breakfast at 8:00 in a rather barren breakfast room.  We walked to the castle and were able to get inside at opening time; there we looked around.  Next, we went to the Church of the Holy Rude, named after a relic of the cross on which Jesus was crucified. The church was founded in 1129 but the oldest part of the current church dates from the 15^th century.  We returned to our B&B to pick up our backpacks and walk to the railway station to buy tickets and stow our backpacks in lockers.  Whoops – we were not allowed to use the lockers, so we were forced to carry our backpacks on a long, warm walk to the University of Stirling, which is located on 330 acres about 2 miles from the center of Stirling.  It was a very attractive campus with a loch (body of water) in the center.  We got a much-needed drink there at McRobert Hall.  Then we took a bus back to the railway station and boarded a train with Edinburgh as our destination – for Fred, it was nap time on the train.

In Edinburgh, after a brief stop at Boots (drugstore), we took a city bus from North Bridge and had to walk a ways after the nearest stop to our accommodation of Highfield House.  We had now gone full circle, returning to the guesthouse where we had stayed when we arrived at the onset of our journey. This time we had a back room, which was cooler and had a breeze, plus a view of the nearby hills.  Dinner was at Pataka.  Ardith had lamb curry, raitha, chapatic and papdom.  Fred had lamb and a kabob – with a wonderful yellow sauce.  We took a short walk following dinner and again found some wine gums at a BP station.  We then spent a little time sitting in a small park before heading back to the room for our last slumber in Scotland.

July 12 saw the sun coming in the window, framing  a view of seagulls and hills in the background.  After a good breakfast we hopped on Bus 42 to Waverly Bridge, where we boarded the airport bus.  Arrival at the airport marked the end of our St. Cuthbert adventure, a relatively relaxed wander through rural hills, woodlands, and villages of southeastern Scotland and northern England, topped off with a causeway walk to Holy Island, and not nearly enough wine gums.

Following see our constant walking companions on this adventure.