Sunday in the Borders

[angledge]

Ah yes, yet another idyllic Sunday spent driving around Scotland, admiring gorgeous scenery in the company of seolta & funkyplaid. Even better, this time we had spiffington with us too! Mathew (edit: now known to me as mxhaunted) also came along for the ride, but his bad knee limited him to the car for part of the day. Bad joints = no fun.

We got off to a bit of a late start, on account of everyone (except me) being out the night before until 4:00 AM at a dance party. Nonetheless, we got rolling in good time & proceeded South into the Borders, with the destination in mind being Traquair House, one of the oldest inhabited houses in Scotland.

We never made it. Instead, we wended our way through delightful little towns, narrow B-roads, sheep & cattle pastures, over hills & through dales. We proceeded through alternating 15-minute bands of rain & sunshine. When we realized that our late start meant we wouldn't get to spend any decent amount of time at Traquair House, we drove up to its famous Bear Gates, took some photos, & headed to a pub in Peebles for some grub. There we were harassed cheerily served by two extremely bored & garralous waiters. We proceeded from Peebles with no particular destination in mind, & ended up at Scott's View, a fantastic overlook near the River Tweed.

The order of the day was "Stop whenever we feel like it." We drove across one bridge three times in order to capture the perfect photo of it (not posted here). We stopped to play with a Giant Schnauzer (eeeeeeee!) whose owner probably wondered who these crazy people trying to kidnap her dog thought they were, anyway. We skipped rocks under a 230-year-old bridge. We checked out the ruins of a Roman fort.

As we were starting to wind back towards Auld Reeky, seolta directed us to one last surprise destination: the town of Legerwood! That's right, there are now a few MORE photos of me standing under that little iron sign near the kirk, & one more entry in the visitor's log in my handwriting. I was very happy to have my good friends there with me & it made a fantastic finish to a fabulous day.



A long look from Scott's View across the Scottish Borders.



Beauty was present at multiple scales.



I wanted to steal the rowboat that was resting at the bow in the river.



This used to be a Roman fort called Trimontium; now, it's a barley field.



Reading the site information at Trimontium. Is anyone surprised that it's funkyplaid that found a tiny inaccuracy?



And because I'm an engi-geek, here's a photo of windmills!

So just remember ... I live in a beautiful country. Now that I've found a decent photo host (thanks for pointing me to Photobucket, ohioswimmer!), expect more photos in future posts!

Comments

[funkyplaid.livejournal.com]

No! She never told me...but I wholeheartedly support your quest. :)

(It's LJ that's slow on the draw in delivering these comments, so no worries there.)

Shall I send you some wool, delicately hand-picked from fence-lines in the North-East?

[marasca.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure what I'd do with the woll, but here's a story for you:

We spent a lot of our trip driving around and I was amazed by the quantity of farm animals, so I resolved to take photos of all the different sorts of critters I could find. Mostly this included sheep, who are shockingly camera shy. Every time I made Ang pull over so I could take a picture, the sheep began to amble away. I have a lot of photos of sheep asses.

Of course, the holy grail of Scottish livestock is the highland cow. There are postcards everywhere with them, but in reality they seem to be a bit more rare. Finally, Ang (or maybe Cousin Kate) spotted some in a small field filled with old tires. Moe and I got out to take pictures. The cow turned it's massively horned our way and began to walk over. We were a bit scared- it looked determined to gore us. We were equally determined to take pictures so we stood our ground. The cow moved closer and closer and... began to scratch his ear against the fencepost. He then looked at us expectantly. We spent a while scratching his big wooly head and then went on our way.

The End!

[funkyplaid.livejournal.com]

This story is wonderful. The sheep in this country are not only camera shy, they're entirely stupid and rude, to boot. The coos are a different story, and as you've experienced firsthand, they are just as sweet as some of the pleasant Highland folk 'round these parts.

Oh, and he thanks you for your care and concern. :)

Kiss the cow!

[angledge.livejournal.com]

Since this post has strangely morphed into the Gallery of Heilan Coos, here's Kirsten's other cow photo from that trip to Skye:

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