Slack Jawed Babbling

Sliding down the coast from Scotland, this rambling yarn is finally re-entering territories I know well. Contrasting with previous dispatches from often unfamiliar landscapes and barely known settlements, Northumberland brings into focus towns and coastlines with which I am much better acquainted. I’ve been coming to this quiet, be-castled coastline for just about as long as I can remember. Early family holidays took in windy chalets on a regimented Hoseason’s site in Berwick; and bunking up with Geordie friends relocated to somewhere just outside the remarkable Cragside House, home to the industrialist and inventor Lord William Armstrong. Later, with the future Mrs A, there was a busy tour of the houses, gardens, islands and the pubs, bars and restaurants offered up generously from our base in Alnmouth one bright May over a quarter of a century ago. More on this later. Over the years I have been drawn back to the area a good few times, even from the distant comforts of cosmopolita...

Sunny Dunny. Dunbar, on the East Lothian coast, reputedly has more hours of sunshine than any other Scottish town. I read somewhere that the local micro climate benefits from the nearby Lammermuir Hills which soak up the rain when the wind blows from the south or west. The Pennines fulfil a similar rainfall function in England between with the wet north-west and the drier north-east. The weather had clearly read the script, with strong sunshine melting away early morning murky fug at the very point my train approached Dunbar. The landscape was suddenly alive with rich ochre tones of farmland and vibrant lemon blooms of gorse alongside Border valleys bursting with bright green new season foliage. A sunlit arrival felt appropriate. As if shining a torch on the missing link in my perambulation around the coast. All the other destinations have been scribed in these posts and the remaining few counties have already visited, logged and are ready to upload. The Borders were the glaring omis...