Melrose > Edinburgh 39 miles

I’m sitting on the steps of the National Monument, atop Carlton Hill, in Edinburgh, Scotland.  It’s 8:00pm, but the sun is still fairly high in the sky.  At this latitude you can expect long days - which are typically filled with overcast rain in Scotland, but the last few days have been blue skies and warm.  The sun is hot and the breeze is cold - which makes for constant changing temperatures.  To the west is the Old Town of Edinburgh with it’s castle - perched high atop a hill (great place for a castle).  To the north is the Firth of Forth (whatever that means) and beyond that the Highlands - a place I hope to return to and visit someday.  Earlier this evening I was speaking with Andy (our WS host for the next two nights) about his recent bike tour from Venezuela to the southern tip of South America.  (I tell ya, these hosts we have stayed with have been the real deal).  We both agreed that in bike touring you see so much, but at the same time miss so much.

Last night we slept under the stars on the banks of the River Tweed in the Borderlands of Scotland - a area of constant war between the Scottish and the British.  As I crawled out of my REI Igneo down sleeping bag, I saw an elderly man wander up the trail, with his bulldog Buzz charging ahead of him.  As he noticed our tandem he said, not much of a bike trail, are you camping here?  We had, but I was unsure of the tone in his voice.  Scotland has a “camp anywhere” policy but had the same question been asked in the States it would surely have been accusatory.  We did, I replied (hoping that the past tense “did” would avoid confrontation).  Well it must have been a great night for camping, he replied.  I’m just out for my morning walk with Buzz, he likes chasing the rabbits but he never catches them.  Good day.  And on he went.  It was a conversation to ponder.  The openness of the Scottish to welcome foreigners to sleep anywhere in their country is truly unique.

At the Bakehouse in Melrose I stumbled upon a great lineup of delicious eats: Haggis and Cheese, Cornish Pastie, Sausage Roll, Yum Yums, Breakfast Pie, Veggie Quiche.  It seems that Dexter Bakery has some things to learn.  I’m sure it’s easy to guess which one I had.  Also of note: although we were only in Melrose for 8 waking hours, we managed 4 meals - our hunger is creeping up on us.

The Borderlands are of Scottish historical significance because they contain many Abbeys and were a site of frequent battles between Scotland and England.  They were built by the Scots in the 1100s to develop the economy, later destroyed by King Richard of England and later rebuilt by the same King Richard (I guess he didn’t want to die knowing he had destroyed God’s buildings).  We walked through Melrose Abbey, the resting place of the heart of Robert the Bruce (from Braveheart).

As we crested our last hill before the long descent into Edinburgh, we stopped at the side of the road to have a snack.  A man was there with his two grandkids and his pigeons.  Opening the cages, a dozen or so pigeons took flight, made two quick circles (narrowly avoiding traffic) and then took off for Edinburgh.  Absolutely amazed at what I had seen, Katy and I struck up a conversation.  Where are the pigeons going? I asked.  They’re heading home, he replied (in that great Scottish accent I thought only existed in the movies - actually it is better here).  How do they know where home is?  Nobody quite knows, but they usually make it, he continued.  What do you mean usually? now he had my full attention.  Well I race them now and again, last race was from Ypres, Belgium - about 530 miles in 16-18 hours (supposedly they can fly about 42-43 mph for 18 hours without stopping or eating).  Not all of them made it home, too many Peregrine Flacons and bad weather - the hail is hard on them.  Whoa, did you say race them?  I responded in my rather slow American accent.  Aye, I’m a pigeon racer, he said in perfect Scottish.

Tomorrow is our last day in Scotland - I’m hoping to increase my love of all things Scottish (William Wallace and Haggis).  No, I think it's repellant in every way, in fact I think that most Scottish cuisine is based on a dare.

Expenses: £8 Sausage Rolls, Bananas, Blackberries, an apricot, Haggis and Cheese Pastry, two sandwiches, £11 Melrose Abbey Admission Fee,  £7.90 Steak Pie and Haddock and Cheese Pie, £5.50 Lamb Doner Kebab

The River Tweed, our shower.

And another one of those.

A wild sleep. 

Melrose Abbey: here lies the heart of Robert the Bruce.

Pavement. It's something only cyclists talk about.

Almost to our first destination.

Cycling through Edinburgh.

I believe all Scottish Cuisine is based on a dare.

Edinburgh by evening.