Borders and St. Cuthbert's Way, Sept. 6-7, 2012

I took so many photographs on my September trip to the Scottish Borders.  Here are few more, from our first two days - in the town of Melrose.

The interior of Melrose Abbey, a relic of the English Reformation.

Many ancient grave markers bore the skull and crossed bones - I doubt they signified that the decedent was a pirate.

Sandy's cell phone gave her fits, so she tried the old-fashioned  kind.

EVERY fisherman's prayer - the Borders have apparently some great rivers for  salmon fishing, esp. the Tweed River.

"Full Scottish Breakfast" = eggs, mushrooms, black pudding, sausage, fried tomato, bacon,  potato scone.   I found that once was enough.  Later mornings I eliminated several items.

Looking down on Melrose from one of the Eildon Hills (which we hiked up as the first of several).

St. Cuthbert's Way

Four friends took a wonderful seven-days walk in mid September.  It was 62 miles long, through the Scottish Borders.  The route was probably an old pilgrimage route from medieval days - - we passed several former monasteries or abbeys that had been ravaged by time after Henry VIII ordered them closed in the 1540s.  We walked from West to East, from Melrose to Holy Island - from Melrose Abbey to Lindesfarne Abbey.
The walk is named after a 7th century saint. Cuthbert was a native of the Borders who spent his life in the service of the church. He began his work at Melrose Abbey. He achieved the status of Bishop, and when he died he was buried on Holy Island. He was called a saint eleven years after his death, when his coffin was opened and his remains found to be perfectly preserved.
Here's a pictorial history of the walk, which  is called St. Cuthbert's Way [SCW]:

The "official" beginning of the SCW is the churchyard gate at Melrose Abbey



This is Melrose; we spent 2 mights here - most of the towns where we stayed looked like this: 2-3 story buildings, made of stone, several centuries old, ground floor shops, flats above, narrow streets. Melrose Abbey is a popular attraction, managed by Historic Scotland (I think) and so it's a bit more crowded and up-to-date than some others.





We walked and hiked and climbed up and up.   The Eildon Hills (rather steep) were the first obstacles, not very high, fortunately.   Barbara's looking down at how small the town appears.

Salmon fisherman in the Tweed River.  The SCW follows this for about 2.5 very large bends.  It had been suggested that permits to fish the Tweed for salmon are very expensive, which may explain why the river wasn't full of fishers.

The Roman helmet signifies that we are now on Dere Street, laid out by Roman army 2000 years ago.  On the map it is a straight line of a mile or two.  In reality it wiggles and twists and is overgrown with long wet and annoying grass.  That's Pat pointing out something.



These are outbuildings from a very large estate.  They've been converted into an arts center, children's enrichment center, tea room, art gallery, visitor center.  It's called Harestanes and we enjoyed the tea room while awaiting the taxi to carry us to our B & B.

Here is what sheep do.  They munch and munch, heads down on the grass.  When one sees me, it stares, motionless.  When I raise my camera, it hightails it away.   And all the rest follow suit.  Every one of them.  All running away.

This was a milestone not to be forgotten.  It always felt like bigger hills and that the end would never come.  The prior photograph shows us struggling to keep the constant wind from tearing off hats and chilling hands.  Blessedly, the wind was at our backs.

To American ears, these names seem (to be kind) odd.  Would I choose to live in a place called Sourhope?  too depressing.  And what would be the derivation of Cocklawfoot?  At least, Belford on Bowmont would be different from, say, Belford on Tyne or Belford on Thames.

Dogs in the pub were common.  This fellow sat or lay, bored, the entire time we were there.  Pub food seemed to be fairly uniform:  steak and ale pie, fish and chips, roast lamb shank. chicken curry.  Occasionally a treat:  seared salmon; lamb loin chops.  My personal favorite was also a one-off:  Trawler pie (like shepherd's pie but with salmon, prawn, scallops).

A border without border control.  As my son pointed out "You are on the right side of the border."  And I think this was my 72nd birthday but wasn't sure.  Time didn't seem the same without clocks everywhere.



The footpath led through many tree plantations.  This pine plantation surrounded St. Cuthbert's cave, a very minor but physically large attraction.

St. Cuthbert's cave is a large "room" on the hillside, beneath monstrously big limestone boulders.  Without a flashlight, I didn't explore.  We were greeted by the Ramblers who had passed us every day (being British, they don't poke along), and who were "killing time" until time to meet their van in the next town.

To get to this point - on a chilly and damp morning-  we crossed a highway, through fields and along farm roads, across a very busy train track, a stream and then a field, and eventually here.  The end is in sight.  The causeway is to the right of the signs.  My great fear was that we would miss low tide and have to wait six hours to cross.  We made it.

In earlier years (pre-causeway) pilgrims walked across the sands, like these two.  Poles mark the way.  Somewhere out there is a "refuge" - small room elevated about 12 feet above the sand.  We did NOT walk the sands.

The village of Holy Island and our hotel - large white bldg. behind the red roofed one - are just beyond the small harbor.  The castle of Lindesfarne stands on a very high rock (part of an extinct volcano?) behind the photographer.

Here's the same harbor from the hotel's lawn, and that's the Lindesfarne Castle high atop its dark rock.  Looks forbidding, doesn't it.

This bus runs once weekly in September and every 10 days in the next six.  The only time it runs daily is in Tourist Season.  It took us to Berwick where the next adventure began with buying a bus ticket in a train station.  It seems the train doesn't run on weekends because of track work (Oh, shades of Washington's Metro!) 

And that was the end of our too-fast visit to the Scottish Borders. I'd love to go back and revisit some of the towns, the moors and, yes, even the hills. It was very tiring but also very exhilarating and I have good feelings about having done this.

 

Pay no attention . . .

. . . to the weatherman.  I had planned on hiking today with friends, my usual Tuesday hike.  We were going to one of my favorite places:  Sugarloaf Mountain, near Dickerson, Maryland.  I always used to get lost when going there, until I realized that the local Interstate Highway (I-270) was the best bet. 
Now Joe likes New Orleans and Mobile, both places he knew well when we were young.  And he always gets eager when some hurricane looks to threaten those places.  So this summer, this week, there's hurricane Isaac and there's also the Republican party having a big nominating convention in Tampa, down in Florida.  And there were fears that Tampa might be adversely affected by Mr. Isaac.  Sunday and Monday Joe put on his channel-flipper gloves and likely did not watch anything more than weather reports, some on site, some off site, looking for word of New Orleans and Mobile.   After all, this week is the 7th anniversary of hurricane Katrina. 
What has this to do with Tuesday hiking?  I know not why the local weather reporters got so crazy, but they were predicting showers, sunshine, thunderstorms, partly cloudy - - not a one of them consistent with another.  And so this morning, bright and early - - well, not bright.  That was the problem.  It was cloudy, and it was humid, and I dithered around and finally decided.  If I were on a Through-Hike on the C & O Canal or if I were hiking on one of Scotland's lovely long-distance footpaths, I would soldier on through rain, wind, sleet, whatever.  But I'm not there and not doing that.  And rather than drive 35 miles just to walk in what might turn into a thunderstorm, I decided to stay home.  Particularly after Pat reminded me of the time years ago when 4 of us arrived at Sugarloaf's West Parking Lot just in time for a deluge to drop upon us and turn the steps to the summit into a waterfall. 
No walking today.  But how silly that was.  Yes, the early morning was cloudy and humid, but the day progressed (as it always does), and became a bright, sparkling day with shadows so crisp and sharp you'd think they were cut with scissors. 
So I got things ready for the Scotland trip next Wednesday.  Not quite a wasted day.  But no walking today.  How'm I supposed to get my lower extremities ready for walking 7-12 miles/day if I'm not doing some of that now?  Well, there are still 7 days to go.

An Organic Farmers Market in Paris



Farmers' markets fascinate me. The idea that a kind of society has grown up linking urban dwellers with food growers and producers. The weekly markets have drawn me since I first learned of the one at Arlington's courthouse area several decades ago. So as I began to read about the organic market on Blvd. Raspail in France, and realized that it is almost next door to the familiar apartment, I promised myself that I'd find it. And this summer I persuaded my friends that it would be a treat.   Just a few blocks from where we were staying.

What follows are a series of photographs that I took in late June this year.

my friends, from right to left:  Barbara, Debbie, Ashley, 3 generations, 1 family

fetching veggie presentation

these are all soft cheeses

"try this fresh apricot"

many sizes and varieties of honey

a delight to lovers of confiture (that's jam, to Americans)

someone with a refined sense of style and order did this

no, despite my love of charcuterie, I bought nothing here

My thought on taking this pic:  Ham and Eggs, anyone?

olives, artichoke hearts, peppers, garlic cloves, cheese  . . .

hothouse roses



She has a very large shopping cart.



apple juices (not cider, which would be alcoholic)



on the right:  two cider vintages:  2010 and 2008



Arlington's market does not see such elegance

the Jack Daniels sweatshirt made one feel more at home

A glimpse of Versailles

In the South Parterre, behind the Chateau

There are a hundred and more things about Versailles that people really like.  Most important to me are the fountains, but only when the water flows.  Because the pumping mechanisms are several hundred years old, that doesn't happen every day.  Just in the summer for a few hours on selected days.  I made sure that my friends and I made it out there at the right time.


The sun rises when Apollo's horses arise from the sea.  He is, after all, the Sun-God.

 -

Apollo in his chariot rises from the water.




A pretty fountain near the Latona fountain.



Two of the three fountains in the Bosquet.



There are some great figures under all that water.



very cool place for those statues; I wish I could join them.

Latona was mother to Apollo & Diana; she appealed to Zeus when the peasantry was mocking her kiddies.  Zeus turned the peasants into frogs and turtles, and this fountain depicts the change.

One additional aspect of the fountains in summer:  Recorded music is piped into the area; and it's all music from the 17th and 18th centuries when the gardens and fountains were constructed.

A week after Derecho

Last Friday, June 29th, I returned from a week spent in Paris.  Great to be home, despite the amazing heat.  Being quite tired, I went to bed early and, it seems, slept through the incredible storm that messed up the subsequent days for a lot of people.  Joe and I were among the very fortunate; we lost no power and no damage to our beautiful maple tree.  The butterfly bush was cut in half.  That was all. 

Discordant circumstances in my Westover neighborhood (in Arlington, VA):  the Post Office was lit and it was cool, but they could only sell stamps; the system for calculating postage, processing passport orders, and so forth were impossible.  Ayers General Store had lights but no air conditioning, its register was a bit balky and no credit or debit cards could be used.The Safeway had no ice and very little bottled water; at the checkout, only cash and credit cards could be used, no debit cards, and NO cash back for anything.  On Lee Highway, of the four gas stations between George Mason Drive and Lexington Street, only one was open and its line stretched back to Lexington Street.

Having heard and read reports of the tempest, I expected to see lots and lots of damage in my heavily-treed neighborhood.  This is an old suburb (my neighborhood was platted in the 1930s.  Nearly every street has utility poles and a confusing web of lines).  I was surprised to see less damage than I expected.  Still, there were some whole trees that by some miracle fell only in yards, on fences, into the street, and very few on houses.   In the 1700 block of Longfellow, one tall poplar lay across the front yard and had brought down lots of wires and a utility pole; yellow "caution" tape stretched across the road because, I assume, the wires were hot.  Farther on, along Patrick Henry Drive, another section had yellow tape stretched across the road - - more downed wires along with trees and branches.

By Sunday morning, many many people had cleaned up the downed branches (except where they entangled with utility wires) -- how do you tell which wires are electric and which are cable and which are phone - - and are all dangerous?  I drove to the C &O Canal's Swains Lock (where I'm the Canal Steward), and saw that the Park Service has cleared the towpath there.  There were many large branches that had fallen along the campground's perimeter.  In the parking lot behind the lockhouse, what appears to be several small trees fell from the hillside across the gravel.   Our Canal Stewards plan to clean that up on Friday.

Back home, one very large tree on No. 11th Street is now doomed.  Joe and I used to walk past it frequently, and we'd marvel that its double trunk leaned far over the road, casting the road into deep shade.  And, I admit, we'd walk a bit more quickly past, fearing that its great size would bring it down.  No longer will we do so.  It's now about one-third the size it was last month.  And the remainder will be removed shortly.  

The Washington Post article yesterday described this as having an 18-foot circumference and an age of 250+.  It was a huge tree squeezed between the sidewalk and the street.

The larger part of the trunk broke away and fell across the road, damaging some fences on the opposite side.  A portion of it damaged the roof of a nearby house.  Below is an image of the tree pre-derecho:


Rest in peace, beautiful tree. 



Paris, June 2012

If I don't make a really quick list, I won't remember what we did.

June 21 - depart on AF 0027,  Dulles Airport for Paris with Barbara, Debbie, Ashley
June 22 - Arrived Charles de Gaulle Aeroport, Paris; after baggage claim, customs & immigration, got euros from an ATM and bought Paris Museum Pass; and taxi into the city.
         Met property manager at the apt; apt. was cleaned and ready for us = yippee:  we could take possession and grab a nap, have tea/coffee/pastry at Bread & Roses, visit Lux. Gard. & grocery store, explore neighborhood.
         Dinner =  Chez Clement
June 23 -  Bread &  Roses not open; another one was; bought variety of pastries. 
         Figured out how to get RER via Metro (Solferino station); RER to Versailles, walk all over the gardens with fountains flowing, quiche at Angelina cafe, Petit Trianon, M/A's little village, lemon sorbet (v. sour) and walk up to Three Basins, then to Lantone for more fountains, then into the chateau and walked, walked, walked through throngs, ending at another Angelina's for something to drink; RER back to Paris.
         Dinner = ?? the place where B & A had vegan pasta??
June 24 - This morning = rain
         organic farmers market a few blocks down bvd Raspail - many photos
         Metro to Concorde, transfer to Louvre, entered through Carousel; museum pass saved time, if not $$
         The big three:  Winged Victory, Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, with lots of other paintings and lots of crowds in between; look for cafe, another line but food was plentiful (beef & veg wok with green beans; wine).  Headed to the St. Anne exhibit (separate ticket) and was overwhelmed by the exhaustive scholarship.  Met Barb 4:30 at Info Dsk (1/2 hr. late!); note: PO was open and we each bought stamps for postcards.
         Dinner = Leon de Bruxelles; quiche?
June 25 = Paris skies change constantly
                sunny-cloudy-partly cloudy/partly-sunny.
        Time for a long walk down rue Bonaparte, pop into St. Sulpice, window shop at YSL, on down to the river, then walk along the quai to Pont Neuf, which we crossed to island.
        Notre Dame tower climb after sandwich & drinks in the park = long wait in line, then 400 steps up to enjoy to view and 400 more back down (claustrophobic spiral stairs that are 800 years old!)
        Walk around inside the cathedral; light candle.
        Visit to Ile St-Louis looking for ice cream (Bertillion closed); Pom' Cannelle = nice and tasty and cool.
         Home via Cite metro station to ?? and then ??
        Dinner =  LaMamma so Ashley could have pizza? Salade Caprese & Bruschetta for me. It's a nice place - must remember it on rue Vavin.
June 26 = Rain again
       More coffee and pastry for bkfst?
       Metro to Musee d'Orsay where HUGE crowd awaited; bare semblance of a line, pushers-in unsuccessful. Headed straight for "VanGogh & Gauguin in Arles" which had dozens of works by VG and fewer by G; managed to avoid the awful beaux arts sculptures; 5th level had wonderful Imp. & Post-Imp ptgs. Exh. on "Misia", an arts patron of last century. No photos allowed anywhere except in the cafe; corner table = quieter; c/n recall what I ate.
        Batobus = boat that makes 8 stops up and down the Seine; took it to Jardin des Plantes which is lovely, but all bldgs. closed on Tuesdays!!, so back to the boat to Louvre stop, bus to Opera, and walked around to Galeries Lafayette to see the stained glass dome, the cafe, the rooftop views, but we were too late for food and roof. Very nice boat trip down river to Eiffel, turn round, and back to Orsay & metro home.
         Dinner = Cafe Solferino - huge salade nicoise
June 27 =  Bright morning.
        Day for bus rides:  Musee Rodin closed for renovation except some rooms and garden and marbles in the chapel.  Such a beautiful garden, but so few sculptures on display there.  Tea in the garden cafe.
        Eiffel Tower:  long line for tickets because only one Pilier had working elevator; Barb et al got in line and I scouted places for lunch then waited in the shade for nearly 3 hours but they were in line for 2 in the heat and sun.  lunch very close by.
        bus to Arc de Triomphe just in time for the military ceremony for soldat inconnu; up all the stairs to the top and back down again.  Bus back to Montparnasse and sales at Monoprix (shirts for boys)
        Dinner = not, because lunch was around 4:30
June 28 = hot & hazy
        today was to be sort of unplanned & lazy - Metro to Abbesses for Sacre Coeur = MORE stairs to the surface.  Funiculare up the hill, and more stairs to the basilica.  Mass in progress so we sat in a pew til ended. No photos allowed inside. 
        Walked round to Place de Tertre and easel artists (wanted Ashley to see that), then down more stairs looking for cafe.  Nice one 1 block from Metro; had full meal:  onion soup, chicken & potatoes; choc. mousse.
       Into Lux. Gard. for a tour:  carousel, kiddy playground, petanque players, bee hives, espaliered fruit trees, long lawns near Obervatory, out to bvd. St-Michel for ice cream, Medici fountain, and exit to rue Vavin, window shopping here.
       Dinner = La Mamma again; she spoke english which startled everyone.  Tortelini or tagliatelli very good
       back at apt = time to pack everything and figure out how to get to CDG (taxi stand on rue Raspail)
June 29 = drizzly rain
       up at 6 am, eat everything that's left in fridge; head out and flag taxi; figure out how to navigate CDG for boarding pass,  check baggage, find gate, long wait, long plane ride, finally back in USA.
       Pick up by Joe; home and throw everything in the laundry basket, take long nap, talk with Joe, sleep through the tempest.

Have two sets of photos on flickr.com