I spent a lovely few days in Berwickshire - after I got pulled out of the field, that is. Looking around St Abbs, which is a very pretty seaside place, Coldingham beach with its old-fashioned beach huts and cafe, and a little walk along the coastal path towards Berwick Upon Tweed.
Berwick upon Tweed is actually in England. It's a little stately town right on the coast. And to get to it I had to cross the English border - rats - I meant it to be a big ceremony, but I did it accidentally looking for a campsite!
While I was at St Abbs on the coastal path an enormous bang made Bonnie and I jump out of our skins - it was the lifeboat signal, and people came running and launched the little RIB. A guy came running up the hill and seized the binoculars of one of the people I was just chatting to, a bird-watcher, and told us that two divers had gone into the sea off the shore and not come out. Before long, the larger lifeboat appeared round the coast followed by a helicopter. I left before it had all concluded, but I heard later on the news that the search had been called off. Luckily, it seems it was a false alarm - nobody reported any divers missing, so they thought perhaps they hadn't gone in after all.
I also had a look at Kelso - the picture below is a view out of a window down onto the square. It's a lovely town with a lot of Georgian houses and a cobbled square - I'm sure it must get used on films a great deal.
Coldingham Beach, also below, is very tiny bay, but sandy, and it even has its own surf school.
I chose the scenic route back - first down to a site near Bamburgh Castle. You can see it below in the distance, and it was walkable from the site. So on our second-to-last morning, Bonnie and I walked down there to the beach. The coast is full of seabirds, and very open and dramatic.
The farmer there had a new Beardie puppy who was going to learn to be a sheepdog. She was only 14 weeks old, but already listening to everything he said. He was very quietly spoken and very good with his dogs. When we got talking, he revealed he'd written a novel and a documentary about fishermen in Eyemouth, sailed a boat across the Med this summer to deliver it to someone, and had very definite views about whether Marlowe had actually been killed in a brawl, or gone abroad undercover and continued to send Shakespeare material for his plays. Which only goes to prove - if you want to know anything about anything, ask a Northumbrian farmer.
I passed through some lovely Yorkshire countryside, including Masham, a beautiful town which was due to have its yearly sheep fair the next day. I couldn't stay, unfortunately, because I had a pizza date in Derbyshire, but I caught them putting up the pens. Caroline and Alan went. Masham and surrounding area are definitely on the list for another visit. Very beautiful, and packed with nice walks.
I spent some time near Harrogate and met up with Tony, Caroline, and Martin from Leeds University - the site was a little countryside one which looked not much from the road but had a lovely view over a valley. Caroline came for supper, and it was great to see her again and catch up a bit (although I'm not sure I gave her the chance to say much: sorry Caroline!)
And I even stopped off at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park! Having driven past it twice a week for two years on the way to Leeds without going in, I decided it was high time. The weather was lovely, and I enjoyed it a lot just as a park - good job really, because the signage and directions are so bad that if you are looking for anything you won't find it unless it's large enough to be sticking up out of the landscape. It was full of lost people - wayfinders out there, take note!
In Derbyshire I spent time with Annie, Martin, and my Mum, and good friends Neil and Rebecca - and their new puppy Jellybean. She is lovely - and seems to be a very good girl, despite being so young.
While I was there I had a quick look at Eden End Cottage, one of the places I lived most recently before I came to London. The new owners have adapted it a bit, but otherwise it looks the same as when I was there.
I got back on Thursday 2nd to Whilton Marina caravan storage place, having cleaned the van (with the help of Alison and Christopher in Derbyshire - thanks guys) to within an inch of its life. It looked sparkling, everything was packed up and cleaned and emptied and ready for me to leave it. Except - I arrived twenty minutes after the storage place had shut at 6, so drove back into a nearby village called Norton and had an extremely nice pub meal at The White Horse. They let me stay in their carpark overnight - I was trying not to dirty anything so slept in my sleeping bag - until I could drop the van off in the morning.
And here we are again - back to the pile of bags in the front room!
