The Borders

Our day in Edinburgh ended with dinner in a pub (Wetherspoons) and a stroll through town to a little park for some people-watching and hair-braiding. The weather is absolutely gorgeous--not too hot, not too cold, sunny, very little wind. Not what we expected in Scotland.

The next morning, we returned to the same pub for their cheap breakfast. We learned that "muffin" on the menu means breakfast sandwich on a don't-call-it-English muffin. 

We poked into a few little shops and walked down the street that allegedly inspired Diagon Alley in Harry potter, then our friend picked us up and drove us to his home in the Scottish Borders. The landscapes on the way to his village were breathtaking--rolling fields of rapeseed and other crops, scores of sheep, babies included, grazing the hills, hedgerows and stone walls cutting it all into sections. We grabbed lunch in Duns, the sweetest town with a bustling square with food and gift shops framing it all in. I had a pasty filled with curried chicken, then we had ice cream. 

We lazed around in our friends' garden for a few hours, soaking up the warm sun we've been denied thus far in Finland, watching the kids quickly and intensely reconnect after not seeing one another for a year.

In the evening we watched our friend's band play the final night of a community theatre festival and the food at the venue was more pie--this time steak--and soup. It was delicious. The event started with a ceilidh, and people from age 8 to 88 joined in on the dancing. We didn't--not even when the dance was a "Canadian barn dance" I'd never witnessed in my life until then--but with a little more cajoling I'm sure we would have. There were a lot of personal dancing choices happening on that dance floor; people just lost themselves in the music. I even got dragged up on stage with the band to play some piano in a song I've never heard. The whole night I was just thinking about what makes some small towns so vital and active, and why it's not like that everywhere. 

This morning Brian and I took the train to Newcastle. Our friend had tickets to the football game and we just wandered around, trying to savour the time without the kids. We aren't even sick of them, but it's good to have a preemptive break. We went to The Stack, a building made of shipping containers right next to the stadium, that plays the game on big screens and serves beer and really good street food. It was packed and loud, full of fans, periodically erupting into cheers, children wilding out during the halftime. We had bao, and french fries loaded with bbq pork, and Newcastle Brown. We kept wandering for a bit and checked out the castle (from the outside, classic B&K style) and the cathedral. It was all nice but the most exciting part was definitely getting sucked into the football frenzy for a bit. It is such a part of the culture here.

On the way back from the train station, our friend took us over the Union Chain Bridge. The car could barely squeeze through the stone bollards on either end. This website about the bridge says:

"The Union Chain Bridge spans the River Tweed between Horncliffe, Northumberland, England and Fishwick, Borders, Scotland. It was designed by Captain (later Sir) Samuel Brown RN, who held patents for the design of the chains, although Brown altered the tower and abutments on the suggestion of John Rennie. When it opened in 1820 it was the longest wrought iron suspension bridge in the world with a span of 137 metres (449 ft), and the first vehicular bridge of its type in the United Kingdom."

When you get to the other side, you're back in Scotland.

It's been a nice few days of not having to figure everything out on our own, and a nice chance for the girls to talk to other kids. But our friends have to get back to work and school (what's that?) and we have to move on like the nomads we are. Next it's back to Edinburgh for a couple days, then Paris, then back to Finland for the rest of the month.