Sunday, November 4, 2007

10 Weeks in a Box - Day 23

Take the High Road - 31/07/2007



The next morning we were off again, and Miki remarked how the scenery was changing and becoming, in some subtle way, more Northern. Bleak was a word that sprang into my mind…
We had decided to hang with the A1 until Darlington and then, wisely, if you’ve seen Darlington, veering North West on the A68 through West Auckland, Corbridge, and eventually Jedburgh in the borders.
We found it astonishing that this switchback of a road through wonderful scenery didn’t merit the usual “green ribbon” on the Michelin map. No taste these cartographers! Arriving at the beautiful viewpoint on the English-Scottish Border, I pointed out to Miki that a guy used to stand here playing the bagpipes. Some minutes later, we found a plaque on one of the huge stone monoliths that stand as silent sentinels by the road, marking his passing last year, a sad loss of a man that kept a lovely tradition alive.


As we headed into the beautiful Scottish country side, I could see in Miki’s eyes her dream of visiting this place slowly becoming reality, and although I’d travelled this road many times before, her joy was infectious.

Fortuitously we found a Lidl on the outskirts of Edinburgh, and replenished some of our dwindling reserves without requiring a mortgage! Circumnavigating the city itself, courtesy of the by-pass, we crossed the mighty Firth of Forth marvelling at the road and rail bridges.
(The rail bridge always reminds me of the movie of the John Buchan classic ‘The 39 steps’) and were content to stop some miles south of Perth, though it has to be said, not so content to stump up fourteen lousy quid to stay on some of Moto Services hallowed tarmac. So having extended them the digit, we went two miles down the road and found a perfectly serviceable lay-by near the peculiarly-named Milnathort. And that was the night the wind and rain kicked in. The tippy tap of the showers was whipped up into a frenzy by the gales, lashing at the motorhome and rocking it like an AC/DC gig. Needless to say, sleep, like cheap fuel, was hard to come by.



Text by Kev Moore
Drawing & Photos by Miki
Both on Planet Goodaboom

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