So here we are in Bonnie Scotland - just over the border, near the pretty market town of Kelso. We have had two lovely days of summery weather but this morning it is overcast and uninviting. On the way north we stopped off to visit the awesome edifice that is Durham Cathedral, paying homage at the tombs of St Cuthbert and The Venerable Bede. It is a building that makes the mind boggle - I mean - how could they? The sheer audacity of such a structure beggars belief when you think of the times in which it was constructed.
|Durham's magnificent eleventh century cathedral|
|The tomb of St Bede in Durham Cathedral|
Then onwards and upwards as the bishop said to the actress - until we came to the border with Scotland. We expected pipers and girls dancing skirls but instead there was "The Borderer" fast food caravan where you could buy greasy scotch pies, disgusting haggises or delicious light and golden Yorkshire puddings in a rich beef and onion gravy:-
|Fast food caravan at the border with Scotland|
|Our little cottage at Ednam north of Kelso|
|Gorgeous view from the rear of our cottage towards The Cheviot Hills|
Yesterday we met up with one of my photographic heroes - The Baxatron aka Walter Baxter from Galashiels. And what a fine fellow he turned out to be in his Baxter patterned kilt and woolly tam o' shanter but more of him some other time (be afraid Walter!). We also visited my late brother-in-law's memorial stone in the graveyard at Denholm near Hawick.
These Scottish borderlands are delightful - so much history - so many little lanes and unexpected vistas. The agriculture seems bountiful in this most productive of summers with fields of grain rolling off into the distance. No wonder the Baxatron feels little need to leave his homeland these days and no wonder he has photographed his surroundings over and over with deep affection and boyish inquisitiveness. But not a single scotch egg in sight! Perhaps it's not the right time of year for the scotch egg birds to lay...