Our walk (nay march) will take us from Eyemouth on the Scottish border to Berwick-Upon Tweed in England. A coastal walk of 11 miles, it encompasses sweeping sandy beaches, rolling dunes, rugged cliffs, and evocative vistas of abandoned crofts on headlands, combined with the intimacy of picturesque fishing villages and the obligatory links golf courses.
Parking the car at Eyemouth we take a leisurely stroll around the town before picking up the coastal path at the south end of the harbour. It is refreshing to see that this small idyll is still an active fishing port as witnessed by the numerous vessels in port with nets awaiting repair at the harbour si
de. An added bonus before we embark upon the route is the sight of two friendly seals feeding from some passers-by who are throwing them some fish that they have recently acquired from a nearby Fish and Chip shop, seals in these parts seem to prefer their fish in batter with added salt and vinegar apparently.
Our first hour on the walk makes for slow progress as we amble around Eyemouth golf course looking at the various hackers as they struggle around a quite fearsome links course which today is providing precipitous wind conditions adding further discomfort to their game. Once we are clear of the golfers we walk over Fancove Head and down into the small village of Burnmouth which nestles in its own secluded bay and is now a defunct fishing village. Climbing out of Burnmouth the path turns back on itself and heads north, these many staggers and doglegs in coastal routes does make one wonder how accurate these coastal paths are measured. We have seen this one measured on various journals at 9.5, 10.5 and 11 miles, the longest one in our experience tends to be the most accurate.
From here the path runs adjacent to the main Edinburgh to London railway line passing Hilton Bay and across the English border which is highlighted by an old British Railways signpost as you cross from one country to the other. Pressing on towards N
eedles Eye (an unusual rock formation protruding from a headland) we stop to wonder at feeding Gannets as they drop from the sky in search of food. Although ungainly on land, gannets are magnificent in flight. When searching for food they fly parallel to the coast, between 1 and 20 metres above the sea, looking for schools of fish. They plunge headlong as soon as they spot their prey. Just before they hit the water, they fold in their wings to swoop down beneath their food. They can enter the water at speeds up to 145 kilometres an hour, relying on inflatable air sacs around the neck and chest to absorb the shock of impact. We watch from high above their entry point and find it hard to identify their success rate but can’t help thinking that the seals back in Eyemouth have an enviable lifestyle in comparison to these hi-energy Raptors.
Just before we reach Berwick we pass through our second caravan park of the journey. Is there any stretch of coastline unaffected by these growing blots on our coasts? Not only are the sites growing unhindered but they are also being populated by vans of a visually abhorrent identity. No attempt at colour cohesion between van owner and countryside is adhered too and the caravans now resemble small houses without the normal planning consents. The owners of these sites apply the simple philosophy of stacking as many vans as possible in to whatever space he/she has or can acquire before sticking a tacky, cheaply constructed club/pub in the middle of it for further profit. Adds to the local economy they would have you believe.
Plotting a route through these massive sites for the first timer can be quite a tester as every lane has a similar appearance to the lane you have just came from i.e. no lighting, no trees, no door numbers, no ambience, just row upon row of alum
inium and glass. One wonders at the confusion that must ensue at closing time of a Saturday evening as the hordes of well lubricated wander around for hours in the dark continually entering the wrong vans.
Thankfully for us, daylight and the sound of a passing train provides us with a reference point that helps to guide our way from the site and in to Berwick.
Berwick is a town with a bloodied past, between 1296 and 1482, Berwick was besieged and assaulted on more occasions than any other town in the world other than Jerusalem, changing hands no less than 13 times! For many years it was in the possession of the Scots but is now regarded as England’s most northernmost town. It is built mainly of stone in grey to pinkish brown. The town is piled upon a peninsula at the mouth of the Tweed and it faces the river, rather than the sea. Three great bridges connect it with Tweedmouth on the south side of the estuary: the low stone bridge with 15 arches of varying height and width, completed in 1634; the 1928 concrete span known as the Royal Tweed which has just had a recent facelift and the railway’s Royal Border with its 28 soaring arches, completed in 1850.
The importance of its strategic position and the evidence of its turbulent past can be seen in its 18th century riverside walls which were rebuilt with gun emplacements overlooking the river mouth.
Sadly the fading light dictates that we must curtail our visit to this historic town as we board a local bus which takes us back across the border to Scotland and a fish supper from the seals' favorite Fish and Chip shop in Eyemouth.
