Slack Jawed Babbling

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...

Credit: VisitScotland/Kenny Lam For the Lothian leg of the Seaside Specials, I’m revisiting a blog from 2016 that laid out the bones of a slightly unhinged early Summer return day-trip (sort of) to Perth races from home in Hertfordshire. This was an idea conceived one morning with Tim on the shuttle from Clapham Junction to Esher for the Tingle Creek meeting. I had always fancied a trip to Britain’s most northerly racetrack. Tim was a regular visitor to the June meeting when he and his other half visited her in-laws in nearby Dundee. ‘I’ll join you!” I boldly declared. By the time Spring 2016 arrived, I was still committed to the trip. I had some half-hearted squints at B&Bs and timetables, but I was already fondly recalling my first Caledonian Sleeper journey from a few years previously to Fort William . Eager to recapture something of that virgin experience, I duly booked up the sleeper either side of the Perth meeting, to arrive in Edinburgh early in the morning before the races...

Just six months after the uplifting tour around the exposed, wild roof of Scotland – the NC500 – I was back at its starting point. This time heading east from Inverness, rather than north, to explore a bit of Scotland’s coastline I had never been to before. And in Winter, too. I’ll be upfront. This trip wasn’t an unmitigated success. I was anticipating these few days away as eagerly as any of the previous adventures; and had route-planned, b’n’b-booked and   transport-researched accordingly. Indeed, I was on the cusp of new employment that would mean the end – at least temporarily - of my freelance, freeform, flexible career in favour of a regular 9-to-5, full-time jobby that would likely curtail such future trips. So this one would be the last for a while. A range of factors conspired to dial down the enjoyment. Sometimes these were self-inflicted, but there was also a fair old dose of external interference as well. So batten the hatches in advance of a few barbs of bellicose...