Border Lines

Berwick, North Northumberland: Food-Travel-Culture-Community

Archive for the category “Walking”

20 Apr 2018

MP rides bear-back as Berwick sculpture trail officially opened.

Today was the official opening of the wonderful sculpture trail here in Berwick’s Coronation Park. Local MP, Anne-Marie Trevelyan, joined the friends and families of the children who’d designed the eight-strong sculpture trail; the sculptor who realised the children’s designs – David Gross; Parks Development Officer, Kate Dixon; her team of volunteers – Friends of Castle Parks plus the local Cadets; and various local and county councillors. The sun shone!

The Berwick Bear

Anne-Marie Trevelyan atop ‘Bari’ the Berwick Bear

Robin

This chirpy chap is one of the eight sculptures designed by local schoolchildren and realised by sculptor David Gross.

The idea for the sculpture trail was hatched during the five-year HLF-funded project to regenerate and refurbish Coronation and Castle Vale Parks in Berwick – which will complete in June this year. It’s a fun, creative way to encourage more young people and families to enjoy the parks and take ownership of them. Funding came from utilities organisation, SUEZ, the Town Council and a private donor.

The mole

The mole, made of reclaimed walnut

The sculptures were installed in two batches, plus a one-off for the Berwick Bear which, by popular demand, has been dubbed ‘Bari’ – Berwick dialect for ‘really nice’. All the sculptures are made of reclaimed wood.

If you live in Berwick or are visiting, do take a wander in the parks. Coronation Park and Castle Vale Park fall either side of the station – you can walk between the two by road or by dropping down to the River Tweed, strolling along the riverside path – New Road – and walking up again.

A couple of dates for your diaries:

Saturday 2nd June 2018: Open Parks & Gardens, 11-4pm

Staff and volunteers will be in the parks to answer questions and sell you a leaflet (£3) to guide you around the various private gardens that will be open on the day – stretching from the YHA, to Bankhill, Castlegate, and Castle Terrace. Plants and refreshments will be available at various points. Donations will support the work of the Friends in the parks.

Saturday 23rd June 2018: Picnic in the Park, 12-4pm

A family picnic day in Coronation Park (no BBQs and well-behaved dogs on leads). Bring your picnic, enjoy the park, some live music, a community dance performance and children’s activities.

Bear and Cadets

Local Cadets with ‘Bari’, who they helped to install.

 

 

 

Posted in Escape, Posts, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
23 Feb 2018

Ghostly bridge

Misty Royal Border Bridge

Walking home from Berwick railway station after waving The Husband off to London, I turned the corner to see the magnificent Royal Border Bridge treading a ghostly path across the Tweed. I think you’ll agree it’s a surreal sight. Whenever I look at the bridge I think about its construction and the human stories locked in the ashlar along with the rubble that fills those mighty piers.

As one person who saw the picture on Twitter said: ‘Can imagine the ghostly figure of Mr Stephenson surveying his masterpiece.’ He’d probably have been accompanied by George Barclay Bruce who, at the tender age of 25, was the resident site engineer for the project. Robert Stephenson went to Barclay Bruce’s father’s school in Newcastle, so there was a family connection. George became Robert Stephenson’s apprentice at the age of 15. Robert Stephenson was engrossed in other projects – including being MP for Whitby – during the construction of the bridge.

The story of the building of the bridge is fascinating. It took just three years. But what an intense three years it must have been! There are tales of Irish navvies, who dug the foundations, running amok in Berwick. After the navvies had gone and the construction workers took over, there was often conflict between the company and the men whose pay was frequently delayed. There was a strike over the hated Tommy Tickets (paid instead of cash but only redeemable in the company Tommy Shops where inflated prices were charged for goods) which threatened to delay the project. Barclay Bruce battled with the tricky gravel substrate of the Tweed – traditional piling would not suffice and Nasmyth’s new pile driver was brought in and won the day. And, of course, there was a human cost – a fair number of workers fell to their death from the scaffolding and various other accidents brought tragedy to mainly local families – including that of two women hit by a train whilst they gathered coal in their skirts from along the tracks.

On August 29 1850 the royal train carried Queen Victoria into Berwick (a tad late). The whole town was pomped and pumped. A special viewing platform, built at the station, awaited Her Maj’s dainty foot. Queen Victoria was pleased to declare the bridge worthy to be called the Royal Border Bridge (rather than the Tweedmouth Viaduct as it was called during construction). On that day, the Queen spent eight minutes in total in Berwick. I often wonder if she gave a thought to all the people whose lives were shaped and changed forever by the building of the bridge.

…a great way to see things from a different angle
The view we enjoy whilst doing Tai Chi and, coincidentally and extraordinarily, the one I enjoyed with Colin Firth when he visited Berwick on a recce for the film The Railway Man.
Who wouldn’t want to run along the banks of the silvery Tweed on such a morning as this?
Posted in Escape, Posts, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
30 Sep 2017
2 Comments

Wandering in Berwick

Welcome to the (updated) second part of my brief look at Berwick as the star of the Literary Festival (fitting, as a new film about Robert the Bruce, ‘Outlaw King’, was filming in the town when I wrote this in 2017). My last post encouraged you to wet your whistle and whet your appetite in Berwick’s cafés and eating houses.

After all the stimulating Festival sessions, you’ll probably need some fresh air and the opportunity to wander and ponder. Berwick is the ideal place to do just that, enjoying views and wildlife along the way:

20170922_104616 (2)

Berwick to Spittal: Looking back at Berwick from outside Berwick Shellfish, Dock Road, Tweedmouth.

Wanders

  • The Walls: No visit to Berwick is complete without a walk round the historic Elizabethan walls. This 30-40-minute stroll offers vistas across the mouth of the Tweed, out to sea (with views to Lindisfarne and Bamburgh on a clear day) and takes in many of the town’s historic highlights including a great view along Marygate from atop Scot’s Gate – as seen and recorded by LS Lowry.
  • The Lighthouse: Pop down to Pier Road and take a blustery stride out to the lighthouse and back – it’s always possible you’ll see seals or dolphins – you’ll certainly enjoy views out to sea, across to Spittal and to the north.
  • The River: New Road is actually a footpath that runs inland from town along the Tweed to the base of the Stephenson-designed Royal Border railway bridge (opened in 1850 by Queen Victoria) and beyond. Spot herons, seals and otters (if you’re lucky) and pop back up to town along one of the relatively steep paths leading through the beautiful Castle Vale parks.
  • The Bridges: If you’re pressed for time, why not simply walk over one historic road bridge and return by the other? You’ll be rewarded with lovely views of the railway bridge up river and, the other way, the coast. The modern Royal Tweed bridge was opened in 1928 and was ground-breaking in its use of reinforced concrete – it’s certainly of an era and usually elicits a Marmite-response from people. The 17th-century Old Bridge replaced the wooden bridges (which were variously swept away or destroyed in conflict) and was funded largely by James VI/I (Scotland/England). It opened in 1624.

  • Spittal: The historic seaside town of Spittal across the Tweed is home to St Paul’s, one of the Festival’s venues. When you pop over there to enjoy the programme, do take a moment to walk along Spittal Prom. It’s a classic Victorian promenade – a place to take in the air and savour the views out to sea and across to Berwick lighthouse. If you’re lucky you may see the pod of dolphins that frequents our coast.
  • Berwick to Spittal via Tweedmouth: The walk from Berwick to Spittal is an interesting and scenic one but do allow 20 to 30 minutes to get round to Festival venue St Paul’s. Turning left off the Old Bridge you’re in Tweedmouth and you’ll find Riverside Café. As you head on towards Dock Road, several lovely shops including the florist Buds , Dockside Gallery and Nannies Attic are worth pausing your stroll for. You could always stock up on shellfish or grab a seafood lunch at Berwick Shellfish on Dock Road before heading on round to Spittal.
  • The Boat Trip: If your sea legs fancy an outing and you have an hour or so between sessions, why not take a trip out from Berwick quayside? The ‘Border Rose’ makes regular trips up and down the River Tweed and out to sea to the end of October.

Bridge Street with second-hand bookshop, Slightly Foxed, foreground

Cookery & lifestyle shop: Cook+Live+Dream, Bridge Street

Gazing up West Street from Bridge Street

Grieve the stationers on the corner of Marygate & Church Street

  • The Town and Shops: Of course, you may just want to peruse a few shops and take in the general gorgeousness of Berwick. Such a stroll might include a jaunt north through Scot’s Gate and along Castlegate where you’ll find Pier Red (café/wine bar), and some independent outlets including a couple of lovely vintage shops and second hand bookshop Berrydin Books. Walking back through Scot’s Gate take the right turn just before Fantoosh (café/gifts) and drop down Bank Hill past The Loovre ice cream parlour, into Love Lane and on to Bridge Street. This street is packed with delightful independent shops such as Marehalm (gifts) and Cook, Live, Dream pictured above), galleries such as Foldyard and The Irvine Gallery. There’s a marvellous organic outlet The Green Shop, and The Market Shop a gallery-cum-foodstore-cum-card shop. You won’t be able to resist second hand bookshop Slightly Foxed nor the new paper-making outlet and workshop, Tidekettle Paper. At the far end of Bridge Street turn left up Hide Hill and poodle up the hill past gift shop Decorum to the Guildhall and Buttermarket. From the steps of the Guildhall take time to gaze along Marygate and the facades above the now predominantly chain store outlets for a hint of what the high street once was. Also, don’t be fooled, there are a number of pleasing independent shops here such as local craft collective Serendipity, the cornucopia that is Vintage upon Tweed and various cafés. Another street well worth a look is the cobbled West Street which links Marygate and Bridge Street and is home to Upper West Street and charming independent shops including the jewellery outlet Bijoux and house of handmade artisan chocolates Cocoature.

There are many lovely walks around Berwick and, as you stroll, you’ll probably find some of the narrow back streets and footpaths too enticing to resist. Enjoy!

The Old Bridge

Posted in Berwick Literary Festival, Escape, Posts, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , ,
05 May 2015
4 Comments

Making a molehill out of a marathon

It’s no secret that regular brisk walking – just 20 minutes or so a day is good for you and will keep you in the kind of shape you’d like to be in. But walking on a regular basis – particularly if you don’t have a dog or, like me, can simply sidle upstairs to work – can be less compelling than one supposes. That’s proved true for me. My aim to take exercise at least five days a week has looked a bit threadbare on a number of occasions. And suddenly the date of a giant walk we’d optimistically committed to at the beginning of the year had arrived. The folly of it.

Yesterday, on a sunny Bank Holiday Monday, miraculously sandwiched between two duck-weather days, the Husband and I set off on a Coastal Challenge Walk. The route took us along the stunning Northumberland Caost from Budle Bay just above Bamburgh south to Alnmouth taking in seaviews, landscapes and three castles (I’m counting the views out to Lindisfarne Castle on Holy Island). It was a marathon. Literally. That’s 26.2 miles. We completed it in 9 hours.

Lindisfarne Castle

Bamburgh Castle

Dunstanburgh Castle

Three castles. From top to bottom: Lindisfarne, Bamburgh, Dunstanburgh.

What kept us going? Chatting to people along the way. Keeping a couple of friends who were rather fitter than us in our sights – and walking the final leg with them. Gorgeous scenery. Excellent organisation from Shepherds Walks – who offer a range of fabulous-sounding less demanding walks as well as these stonking leg-buster challenges.  The cheerful and kind encouragement from the volunteers who manned the checkpoints. Regular munches of cheese and pickle sandwiches. And, above all, the realisation at around the 15-mile point that we really could do it. Something that we had both secretly doubted.

A reviving doughnut, Seahouses Harbour

A reviving doughnut, Seahouses Harbour

We were pretty much in permanent forward motion for 9 hours on fairly uneven terrain and today – bar a few aches and pains – our limbs are still functional. We are pumped up with achievement and the wonderful adrenalin rush that comes from intense exercise – we even braved the drizzle this morning for a cool-down stroll along the banks of the Tweed. Would we walk a marathon again? Possibly not. But we’ll certainly be striding out again for sure – enjoying the fact that our bodies are rather more capable than we gave them credit for.

Finish line

We got the T-shirt!

We got the T-shirt!

Posted in 2015 - Resolution Record, Escape, Posts, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , , , , ,
09 Mar 2015
4 Comments

Aim high and don’t worry if you fall short

My resolve is totally soluble. The minute I make a resolution my stamina evaporates and my willpower collapses. If I decide to lose weight I am drawn moth-like to all things tooth-decaying and girth-expanding.

Which is why, this year, I decided to set aims for 2015 rather than make Resolutions. Four aims to be precise. This means that by 22nd January – the day when, apparently, the majority of us have given up on our diet, exercise, or whatever health-giving regime we adopted on Jan 1st – I was still within the boundaries of my aims, although far from fulfilling them.

It is a mystery to me why it is so hard to do things that one believes one really wants to do. Three weeks is not long in the overall scheme of things: 21 days to break or make a habit, so some say, is all you need. Well, not in my world. It took me 100 years to give up smoking. It was Allen Carr’s “Easyway to Stop Smoking” (this was pre vapes and patches), that finally helped me beat the nicotine. Hurrah!

The first of my 2015 aims was to have at least two alcohol-free days a week. I had written ‘three days’ in my notebook but, bearing in mind that goals need to be achievable, I scratched that ‘three’ out before the last midnight chime on 31st December. For me it is easy to slip into the prototypical role of middle-aged women with an evening wine habit. And I’m not alone. A recent study in Australia found that 13% of women aged 45 to 59 average more than two drinks a day – maybe a glass with the evening meal followed by a TV tipple – massively increasing our risk of alcohol-related illnesses. The thought is that our regular snifters easily sink binge drinkers under the table. Sobering. What have I discovered so far? Not having a bevvy in the evening is easy as long as there are: 1. No stressful occurrences. 2. No joyful occurrences. 3. No visitors. 4. No going out. Oh, look, it’s not easy – but I’m hanging in with one lapsed week so far.

 

Just a glass of water for me with that delicious piece of cod.

No chilled wine for me today. Just a glass of water with that delicious piece of cod.

Eating no meat or fish for two days a week has proved surprisingly family friendly despite the fact that we’re all rabid carnivores. I’ve often written about my discomfort with the ways we produce and dispatch animals, so this was a logical extension. Eat less meat but know its provenance etc. Actually, we’ve been so delighted with lentil curries, bean stews, spinach and feta pies (if you’ve never piped spinach and ricotta into cannelloni, erm, just do it!), that we’ve surpassed the aim most weeks. Although I have been a tad naughty with a splash of chicken stock in soups and the occasional stray anchovy on a salad, I’ve become quite the carrot hugger.

I've become quite the carrot hugger.

I’ve become quite the carrot hugger.

Exercise five days a week – even if it’s just a turn around the walls of Berwick. The Husband and I wildly and optimistically committed to a coastal challenge walk in May. It’s 26.2 miles from Budle Bay to Alnmouth – you’re supposed to complete it in 11 hours. Today we thought we’d managed three miles but it turned out to be 2.5. We may need an extension.

Getting out and about is proving quite a challenge for us.

Getting out and about is proving quite a challenge for us.

Finally, to rise at 6am on two days a week. I know that’s not early for many people, but it’s an hour before I usually see the sky. The three times I have managed it, I’ve got an enormous amount done in that precious hour. And, yes, you read correctly. Three times. But this, I think, is the thing about aims: unlike resolutions, aims don’t crash and burn when you slip. They sit there, waiting for you to edge towards them – even if, like Alnmouth in relation to Budle Bay, they seem more elusive mirage than attainable goal.

Posted in 2015 - Resolution Record, Foody stuff, Posts, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , , , , , ,
14 Nov 2014

Somewhere under a rainbow

A treat to pop out this afternoon after the torrential rain and find that Berwick truly is a place under a rainbow. Snapped with my mobile phone.
DSC_0975DSC_0965DSC_0969

Posted in Escape, Posts, Walking and tagged , , | Leave a comment
10 Jul 2014

The birds, the bees… and a spot of Tai Chi

Is it just me or is there more nature happening this year? More bees, more birds and, yes, more reproduction. I’m having a bit of a love-in with nature at the moment. And, as so often happens during such spells of intense awareness and appreciation, serendipitous encounters contrive to enhance the glow.

At a friend’s house, I happened upon a book by the writer and broadcaster Richard Mabey, “The Perfumier and the Stinkhorn”. The friend was good enough to lend it to me. It turned out to be a library book – which could have been complicated. Thanks to Berwick Library for keeping things simple: our library’s a fabulous resource, please love it and use it. Mabey’s essays are a thoughtful exploration of the harmonies between science and romanticism through nature’s lens and an excellent counterpoint to the idea that science and romanticism must always be at loggerheads.

Richard Mabey’s inspirational book

Having hens at the bottom of our garden means regular sorties to deliver scraps, check for eggs, deal with poo, massage Vaseline into scaly legs and, most recently, a broody hen that stands no chance of raising a brood. This is how we know the crows talk about us. Like the vultures in “Jungle Book” they telegraph along the treetops: “Caw! Here they come! Caw! They’ve got leftover porridge. Caw!” It wouldn’t surprise me to find them wearing bibs and holding knives and forks by the time we reach the hens.

“It wouldn’t surprise me to find the crows wearing bibs and holding knives and forks.”

Bees interpret scent cues across substantial distances, passing on the gen to other bees. According to Mabey lead free petrol residues react with odour molecules messing with the bees’ ability to interpret scent, which may be a factor in their decline. Happily, our raspberry canes have been mesmerisingly and slightly terrifyingly alive with bees this year. For the last four years, The Husband has been building a structure to protect the raspberry canes from birds. Four years! “It needs done!” I cried, avoiding eye contact and shoving him into the humming cauldron. And, hey presto! the berry protection strategy is complete. No bees or husbands were harmed during implementation, the bees pass freely, the birds are largely kept at bay, and I will eventually get to grips with the intricate hook and eye system.

Despite berry deprivation, our garden birds are bursting with natural fulsomeness – families of blue tits, starlings, dunnocks, sparrows, great tits, blackbirds and wrens are all making a go of it just outside our window.

Friends recently guided us on a scenic circuit in the Cheviots – somewhere I really haven’t spent enough time. Mabey describes a moment when, listening to the nightingale’s song, it was as if, “the bird was in my head, and it was me that was singing.” “Yeah right.” I thought. Until the Cheviot walk, that is. Our ramble rolled through scrub and heather where the birdsong was genuinely tumultuous. The skylarks were particularly abundant, dropping like leafy musical notes to their nests. And, yes, the refrain wasn’t only outside, it was somehow also inside me as I walked. Shelley, in To a Skylark says, “Pourest thy full heart/In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.” And there’s the rub. Counter to what Shelley says, nature – birds singing, bees pollenating, animals reproducing – isn’t an accident. All that ‘art’ has a ferocious purpose – attracting, repelling, sounding the alarm, and ultimately being.

The Cheviots: A fabulous place to wander with friends.

The Cheviots: A fabulous place to wander with friends.

I’ve been popping along to Castle Vale Park Viewpoint in Berwick on a Wednesday morning for an hour of free Tai Chi (every week til the end of August 2014). It’s part of park manager Kate Morison’s drive to ensure the newly refurbed park spaces are used for positive purposes. High above the Tweed making its way to the sea, the flowing movements of Tai Chi seem particularly apt. As we shift and sway, nature gets on with doing its stuff around us. No more or less than usual – just noticed more by me.

The view we enjoy whilst doing Tai Chi and, coincidentally and extraordinarily, the one I enjoyed with Colin Firth when he visited Berwick on a recce for the film The Railway Man.

The view we enjoy whilst doing Tai Chi and, coincidentally and extraordinarily, the one I enjoyed with Colin Firth when he visited Berwick on a recce for the film The Railway Man.

DSCN2294

(A version of this post first appeared in The Berwick Advertiser in July 2014)

 

Posted in Escape, Posts, Walking and tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
08 May 2014

Out of Berwick – delightful spots to visit (and escape the Berwick Fury)

It’s the time of year when The Husband and I like to grab a glass of evening wine and meander down the garden, chewing the metaphorical cud as we go. And, there’s been quite a lot of cud to chew lately what with one thing and another.

Sundowner moments are rather precious: time to catch up and wind down, take in our marvellous surroundings and simply to be. However, there are a number of relatively taboo subjects in our household right now. What with The Husband being on the town council. Many of the things we enjoyed mulling over – festivals, being a Portas town, local shops, buildings and gardens, Berwick itself – are, these days, topics laced liberally with anxiety and a desire to skip over the wall to other shores.

Sometimes it's good to get away - now matter how beautiful Berwick is

Sometimes it’s good to get away – no matter how beautiful Berwick is

So, in the interests of health and sanity, I am heading away from politics, from loud and publicly vented spleen, and from those who have the stomach to take the body blows. Although why any sane-minded person would want to be a town councillor, I cannot fathom. Ooops. That sounds a bit like, ‘I told you so!’ and, when The Husband became a councillor, I promised those words would never pass my lips. So, here are some family friendly places a few paces or wheel turns away from our feisty town.

Chain Bridge Honey Farm. Four miles out of Berwick – learn about bees and bee produce. I read on Facebook recently that a cream made from farm honey had triumphed over dermatitis where numerous prescriptions had failed. Tumble down the hill to the historic Union Chain Bridge – in 1820 the longest wrought iron suspension bridge in the world. Today you’re more likely to hear the call of a goosander (or perhaps glimpse an otter) than the thunderous sound of Captain Brown’s carriage crashing across his bridge, proving to the 700 bystanders that the structure would support their weight and save them the slog to Berwick one way and Coldstream the other.

Half a mile along the river is the 18th-century neo-Palladian mansion, Paxton House. The adventure playground (with zip wire) tucked into the woods above the river ticks the kid box. The house contains tales of doomed love and plantations and a fine collection of Chippendale. Plus there’s a café – and people who dress up. And it’s river-trip season (check timetables) – why not take a boat from Berwick Quayside and sloosh along to Paxton – spying out fishing shiels and wildlife along the way?

Boat trips along the Tweed from Berwick Quayside...

Boat trips along the Tweed from Berwick Quayside…

...a great way to see things from a different angle

…a great way to see things from a different angle

Plenty of walks lead you out of Berwick. One of my favourites circles the cliff edge by Berwick Caravan Holiday Park towards Eyemouth.  Although peering in windows is fun, the real views come later. About 30 minutes out of Berwick you’ll find the Needle’s Eye, a spectacular natural rock arch. This time of year cliffs are packed with nesting seabirds (kittiwakes, guillemots, razorbills). You might spy puffin but the Farnes, a short sea ride out of Seahouses, is way more reliable for puffin spotters. Extend your walk from Needle’s Eye to Eyemouth and St Abbs for more coastal treats.

The Needle's Eye in the background - a short step north along the coast from Berwick

The Needle’s Eye in the background – a short step north along the coast from Berwick

In Eyemouth is the splendid Gunsgreen House. The hands-on displays and stories of smuggling skulduggery are compelling. Stroll over the estuary for fish and chips on the Bantry, some nosh at Oblo or a Giacopazzi’s ice cream. Yum.

There are many more delightful places just over Berwick’s threshold – hop on a bus to Holy Island, continue to Bamburgh for the castle and tales of sea heroine Grace Darling, mosey to Ford and Etal for steam trains, castle and a functioning corn mill.

Sometimes you need a nudge to get out and admire the exquisite things just beyond your doorstep. As the Berwick fury shows no sign of abating, I may be gone some time.

Plenty of spooky smuggling secrets to uncover at gorgeous Gunsgreen House, Eyemouth

(A version of this post was first published in The Berwick Advertiser on 1 May 2014)

Posted in Escape, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
11 Jan 2014
2 Comments

Putting the ‘fun’ into run and other unexpected associations with stars and suchlike

Have you noticed how people tend to associate themselves with others’ good deeds/intelligence/bravery/creativity and take pride by proxy? David Cameron calling Nelson Mandela ‘Madiba’ is an example. Through use of Mr Mandela’s pet name, Mr Cameron is subconsciously or consciously trying to grab a few rays of Mr Mandela’s glow. Maybe, just maybe, 2014 will be the year our current PM will bring peace, humour and a statesmanlike presence to world politics. And maybe as a nation we can bask in reflected glory. Maybe.

In that spirit, I would like you to know that I had lunch with Kate Humble (BBC TV Naturewatch series) the other day. The Husband and I were heading cross-country on a bit of a pre-Christmas mission. Have you ever broken your journey to partake of a light lunch (The Old Bakehouse, West Linton – very nice) and stumbled across a TV crew and presenters, some dressed as elves and Santas, tucking into a Christmas meal? Surreal as it is, that’s what happened to us. Honest. Someone once suggested that I look a little like Kate (it’s the hair). However, Kate’s petiteness, button nose, and media sparkle are unlikely to rub off on me, despite my name-dropping.

Kate Humble

We were en route to Ayrshire to sample the sumptuous delights of Michelin-starred Glenapp Castle. Even more thrilling, we were going to view the Geminids. Those of you who have been caught up by the brilliant news that Northumberland’s own Kielder Observatory and surrounding area have achieved Dark Sky Park status will probably have the gen on the Geminids – a seasonal cascade of meteors, clearly visible to the naked eye during a couple of nights in December. The Husband and I had a hot date with freelance science communicator, writer and astronomer, Steve Owens, and were hoping for a cloudless night – we lucked out. Steve briefed us in the warmth of Glenapp Castle (with the sounds of the meteor shower playing out through an app on his phone!) letting us know we’d probably see fewer meteors than on a clear night.

Glenapp Castle Hotel

And so it was that we lay trussed up in blankets, atop sun loungers, on the manicured lawns of Glenapp, under the moody Ayrshire sky. We looked like stranded Farne Island seals. It’s hard not to give a football-crowd-type cheer each time you see a trailblazing flash in the sky. We saw 30 or so in a couple of hours. Apologies people of Ayrshire.

Geminids – a photo from National Geographic

So, stargazing looks set to become a new hobby for 2014 – and forms part of The Husband’s birthday surprise (you’ll have to wait and so will he!). Last year we celebrated his rapidly augmenting years with a trip to Edinburgh and I fell into the trap of saying ‘yes’ to a challenge I should have, well, run a mile from. I agreed to do the BUPA Edinburgh Great Winter 5k Fun Run. A friend recently commented that, ‘Fun and run aren’t two words that I’d put together.’ Be that as it may, I have spent the best part of 2013 preparing for this wretched run – three times a week, rain or shine, along river and round coast.

And now the joy is nearly here. Berwick Bloke (a lifeboatman with Berwick RNLI and my challenger) and I will be speeding (or shuffling in my case) our way round Arthur’s Seat on January 11th. We’ll be raising a bit of cash for the fabulous RNLI who risk their lives to look out for those in peril on the sea. After that date I will never have to trot my aged bones up Bankhill again. Yes, 2014 will be the year that I truly give up any attempt to be athletic.And, by association, that means you can too.

Image

POSTSCRIPT: We did it! And actually it was fab. So far we’ve raised around £900 for the excellent RNLI – there’s still time to sponsor so please do consider popping over to my giving page. All contributions – big and small – gratefully received. http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/JackieKainesLang

A version of this article was first published in The Berwick Advertiser in January 2014

Posted in Escape, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , , , , ,
03 May 2012
6 Comments

Walking through the pain, the rain – and anything else on the path

We enjoy loads of beautiful views on our training walks – but the scene on the ground isn’t always so lovely

Did I mention I’m doing the Edinburgh MoonWalk? On the night of June 9th, five days before the Olympic Torch passes through Berwick, I shall be pounding the streets of Edinburgh, wearing a decorated bra and a determined expression. The good news is that I won’t be alone. I shall be in the company of thousands of similarly clad women (and plenty of men too).

Many, like Paxton Friend, will have had breast cancer, or be undergoing treatment even as they walk.  According to Cancer Research UK 1 in 8 women will be affected, and it’s growing faster in Scotland than anywhere. Reports (World Health Organisation) show that many breast cancers could be prevented by reducing alcohol, change of diet, exercise and, most importantly, keeping a healthy weight. For many, the MoonWalk is the first step to a lifestyle change. It will be an emotional and exhilarating night. After all the training and blether we’ll actually be doing it – walking 26 miles. Fast.  The atmosphere will be brilliant –embodying Walk the Walk’s motto: raise money, raise awareness, get fit and have fun! And, yes, we’ve set up a fundraising page – do give if you can. Thanks!

London Daughter, two former school friends and me before our one and only team walk so far

I was prompted to do the London MoonWalk eight years ago after my mum had breast cancer. Staggering over the line, London Daughter declared, ‘I shall never do that again!’ I’m chuffed she and her two former school friends are joining me. But virtual training is tough. So I advertised myself on Facebook asking the people of Berwick to train with me. One response was all I needed – and that’s what I got. Step up Paxton Friend.  Our four or five-mile walks have become 12 miles; 15-minute miles, 12-14-minute miles. We’ve invested in ‘technical’ footwear to support our high insteps and rolling gaits. When family chat lulls, we do body checks: ‘Have you got that achy thing in your toes?’ ‘No, but my shins are throbbing and one of my glutes is pulling.’ Training makes you hyper aware of every little ache and pain.

It also makes you hyper aware of your environment – the terrain you’re walking on, and the scenery that whizzes by. The Husband insists I’ve lost the ability to simply walk and enjoy my surroundings. He’s right that I even treat putting the bin out as a training expedition. However, my powers of observation are alive and kicking.

Living around Berwick it’s hard not to be aware of litter hotspots such as the Nile Delta of cans down the bank above the Tweed, beneath Meg’s Mount.  Others are less obvious but equally unpleasant. There’s a lovely circular walk along the Tweed via New Road and back along the other bank from the picnic site at East Ord. It’s blighted by the stream of detritus you have to pick your way through beside the A1. Do people think litter evaporates when thrown from a moving vehicle?

Nile Delta of beer cans above the Tweed in the heart of Berwick

The other day, at a well-known fast-food outlet on the outskirts of Berwick, the car in front received their goodies through the window. Moments later, wrappers flew out. Did they realise what they were doing? Do they know that councils spend thousands of pounds of our (and their) money clearing litter? If ‘dine and dump’ were an Olympic sport – we’d be in the running for a medal.

Sight for sore eyes – litter along Goody Patchy, the disused zig-zag railway track above Tweedmouth down to Dock Road

When I was a gal, my mum would reduce us to tears if a scrap of sweetie paper so much as fluttered from our tiny, chilly fingers. At school ‘litterbugs’ were thoughtless creatures worthy of contempt. Whilst Paxton Friend and I are engaged with a campaign that enables a whole cross-section of society to choose to do something positive for themselves and for others, it’s kind of ironic that, each time we go out, we are faced with the evidence of people choosing to do something that has a negative impact on everyone.

(A version of this article was first published in The Berwick Advertiser on 3 May 2012)

Posted in Posts, Uncategorized, Walking and tagged , , , , ,

Post Navigation

← Older Entries