Brass

Britain has a long tradition of brass bands, originating in the coal mining industry (and other manufacture), where every company had their own company brass band. These would compete against each other, and today, most British brass bands enter competitions and championships, and there is a league system like in football. This means, that most British children who are learning brass instruments will at some point compete, and the general level of playing is quite high.

I joined a brass band in Edinburgh where people just play for fun. The players are quite good though. They are also very friendly, and go to the pub after each rehearsal. Today, I talked to one of the guys who practises his trombone several times a week, depending on the weather, on a hill in a large park near Edinburgh.

My flatmate tells me I can practise in the attic in our new flat. If I fit through the hatch.

Borders Abbeys Way 4

It's day three, our longest day with 33 km / 20 miles. We'll be walking to Selkirk first, which is where most people would stop for the day. But we're going to continue on to Tweedback to catch a train home.

Vincent makes us a massive breakfast, and again, Joe helps me with the meaty bits of mine.

Leaving Hawick, it's uphill for a bit and then on a minor road, but at some point we're on a nice walking path again. We take a long break on a tiny footbridge somewhere in  the bush. We need to get up when a Canadian/German group wants to pass. We meet them later in a cafe in Selkirk, where they feel sorry for us because unlike them, we're not yet finished walking for the day. I don't mind. I knew Selkirk was just a stop, so I'm happy to keep going.

Meeting Canadians sparks a lengthy discussion about the best way of eating maple syrup. In my view, it's on Belgian waffles with bacon. It is important though that the waffles are not too sweet. Joe is more of a pancake and icecream guy. We reach Selkirk, and after a coffee break, where the friendly server offers to refill our water bottles, Joe finally gets his icecream he's been thinking of ever since we had the maple syrup conversation.

The bit after Selkirk is a beautiful high level walk through the Selkirk hills with views over the Ettrick valley, and we meet a gang of inquisitive young cows.

In a little hamlet outside Selkirk, a woman in a garden, pruning flowers, sees us from afar and shouts 'schnipp schnipp' at us, and when we come closer, she says we look clean and if we didn't want to stay in her house when she goes to Australia next year. I'm tempted to say yes, but she seems a bit crazy.

We pass a little lake with a beach, and I suggest we go skinny dipping, but I chicken out when Joe calls my bluff. We arrive at Tweedbank station just after 8 pm. We can see the train from afar but don't know when it will leave, so we rush to it only to learn that we still have 20 minutes to go.

Joe starts a chat with a guy who turns out to be a strip club manager. He says that some people think that this makes him seedy (I silently agree) but that it's just a business. I watch Joe, who chats with anyone, for the first time struggle to converse. Oh Schadenfreude. Thankfully (or sadly?), the train doors open and we go in, making sure to find a carriage as far away from seedy strip club manager as possible. 

It's dark now, so no point looking out the windows and taking in the scenery. We eat all our remaining food and turn on phones and check messages. Back to the real world.

Borders Abbeys Way 3

I wake up and take my earplugs out (Joe warned me that he might snore). Joe offers me a coffee. I say yes, then change my mind. No, I'm not a morning person, and my alarm woke me up in the middle of a weird dream. I tell Joe my dream, which was about a wedding of an old school friend that took place at my work place. I realise I talked about that school friend yesterday, and we also debated the merits of marriage. The dream wasn't that weird after all then.

In the sumptuous, tartan-heavy breakfast room we meet the other guests, from England and Barcelona. Joe gets a conversation going with everyone. Of course, the chat turns political at some point, and Joe handles it well. Diplomacy is not my strength so I keep my mouth shut. Joe eats most of my breakfast on top of his - it's too early in the morning for me to have haggis, sausages, bacon and black pudding.

We walk. There are brambles, raspberries and butterflies. On a hill we lie down and take a long break in the soft grass, looking for a nap. Joe tells me how nice it was to wake up next to me. I ask him not to repeat this statement out of context to anyone. Some other walkers come our way. Why they are not lying down and taking a break in such a great spot with wide views I don't understand.

When we continue walking I spot laundry on a line hung up all wrong. The socks are all over the place. I comment on this, and pretend that I really care about hanging up laundry a certain way, and I give Joe a lecture on mindful laundering. He can't tell whether or not I'm serious which amuses me. 

At Denholm, a sign announces a tea room but when we get there it's shut. We settle for the pub, which also serves cream tea, and we meet an Irish mother and daughter who are also doing the Borders Abbeys Way. They have rented a cottage, and the dad, who isn't walking, drives them to the starting points every morning, picks them up in the evening, and cooks dinner for them.

After Denholm, we pick up the path and walk along the Teviot, taking another long break on a pebbled beach, spotting more herons, and practise whistling and bird sounds. Joe teaches me advanced pigeon sound technique, and hand farts. I can't do the hand farts, but it's probably due to a lack of will rather than skill.

At Hawick, we find our host's B&B in an old mill building by the river. Vincent has a lovely three bedroom flat with high ceilings, and he recently redecorated it completely. He is looking to sell and move to Spain, and for his asking price you couldn't buy a basement studio in Edinburgh. He offers us a very generous glass of whisky, and I'm a bit tipsy before dinner. The recommended dinner option in Hawick is a Whetherspoon's, where we meet other walkers. Afterwards, we walk around town for a bit, through a dark cemetery and an even darker park before turning in for the night.

Holidays!

So, I'm away on holidays for most of September.

I'm spending a week up north in Torridon where I'll bag some munroes or corbetts, or if the weather is rubbish, do some easy coastal walks. And then I'll meet up with Kat in England where we'll finally finish the coast to coast walk that we started five years ago.

I'll be back in October with some walking reports.

Leave

I clean my coffee mug, make sure my laptop is locked to the desk, and shred some sensitive print-outs. I write a note to leave on my desk, saying it's up for grabs for a bit. I can't get rid of my smugface. It's there whenever I remember that I won't be back in the office for 23 days.

The last time I had a break that lasted longer than ten days was when I was travelling, five years ago. This is the real deal. I'm not taking anything work-related with me. I'll relax so hard that when I go back, I'll have forgotten what my job is.

Borders Abbeys Way 2

I meet Joe at the bus station in Edinburgh. I'm there first so I get the coffee. On the bus, we have a lot to catch up on, which sufficiently distracts me from getting car sick. Joe gets chatting with Joan, who is sitting in front of us and on her way to Kelso herself. She is on her own because her friend broke her arm. In Kelso, Joan takes us to Caroline's Cafe where we have our first break even before we've started the walk.

Chatting to random people is always a given with Joe - I remember a coffee break on our first walk together when I wanted to grab the coffee and sit outside in the sun, but looking at his face, I realised that he really wanted to chat with the proprietor, who wasn't even particularly chatty. So I mumbled something about having been outside all day and let's just sit inside, and we sat inside and Joe worked his magic and got the cafe owner's quite interesting life story out of him.

On walking out of Kelso we see our first abbey, Kelso Abbey. We follow the river Teviot and meet some anglers, one of which shows us the 4 pound trout he's caught. We have a long lunch break at a pebbly beach, throw pebbles and watch a heron. Back on the trail we get lost a bit, but realise that quickly - the waymarking is excellent.

When we arrive in Jedburgh after some leisurely 13 miles / 21 km, I wonder if my B&B booking has all worked out, and if we'll get a twin room as booked, and not a double. We haven't been friends for that long, so sharing a bed might be awkward! In any case, I've brought pyjama bottoms, and so has Joe.

Our host Amanda welcomes with "you're not vegetarians are you - you can tell vegetarians a mile away, they are always so pale" and shows us our tiny twin room. The two single beds are a hand-width apart - we look at each other and laugh nervously.

Amanda explains our dining options. Jedburgh pubs only serve food in the restaurant area, not in bar area. This means that it is difficult to get a table at all. We settle for the Indian restaurant which seems to be run by children. The service is erratic. The place is full, but no one seems to have food in front of them. They run out of pickle trays and we have to wait for our poppadoms until another table has finished theirs. When the food finally arrives it is nice, cheap and plentiful. After this, it's a walk back to the B&B, and sleep comes easily.

Walls

Looking at paint colours for our new flat, my flatmate and I have opposite tastes. She likes pale salmon, I like greys. I hate pale salmon, she detests greys.

So we both did a personality test to determine our 'perfect colour trend'. We both got 'Coastline' (*click*). (A contemporary take on classic coastal decor, this colour trend celebrates shimmering seas and bold skies. Coastline is a laid-back look that combines flat blocks of colour reminiscent of oceanic horizons, with water-dappled painterly effects, using a harmonious colour palette.)

And no, we don't have a moving date yet. At the current rate of proceedings it might not happen until spring.