15^th Jun 2014

Pitched amongst the long grass above Eyemouth harbour I had a good night's sleep. I woke to the sound of rain hitting the flysheet so decided to stay wrapped up in my sleeping bag and catch up on my blogs. Eventually the rain stopped and the sun started to shine through, drying out the tent. I packed up and headed off to explore an ancient french fort located on the peninsula. I had pitched fairly close to the site of the fort so it wasn't long before I found myself confronted by two old canons aiming across the harbour. I'd met a guy the night before, kevin O'brien ( photographer ), who told me that it was once tiled and that there would soon be a virtual tour of the fort available to explore at the museum. Unfortunately I wasn't planning on staying around for it to be finished. I then headed off towards the cliffs and on to the next leg of my Scottish adventure.

It was getting quite warm now and turning into a lovely sunny day. I set off along the clifftop, stopping occasionally to admire the view. After an hour or so I came across a small valley and headed down, following the small track to the bottom. I was starting to feel a little peckish and could hear running water, a luxury I didn't have back in England and certainly not in the lower plains of Kent and Essex. At the bottom of the valley I found a small bridge so I stopped and collected some water from the mildly clear waters of the stream. I boiled it up and rehydrated one of the new 1000 calorie freeze dried packs I'd been sent to try out. Chicken tikka curry, it wasn't too bad at all. The valley was a great place to stop, with the stream winding down the valley with lush green trees and shrubs. An old stone wall in front of me. I sat staring out wondering what had once been attached to it, maybe am old waterwheel or maybe a small cottage. After a pleasant break I decided to carry on with the days trek.

I followed the path down to where the stream joined the sea. It was a small bay with small dull red rocks lining the floor unlike the bays I had come across before which generally had sand or shingle. I headed across the bay to a set of steps that led up a very steep bank.

Pushing down on my knee to help lift the weight of the bag was the only way I could efficiently ascend from the bottom to the top. I stopped half way for a breather and to look back, well below, at the views.

I was heading for st abbs, a small fishing village, butto get there I had to first endure the ruggedness of the Scottish coastal paths. Up one hill and down and onto the next. I had to negotiate rocky bays and small ravines. It was tough on the knees especially but I carried on hoping to find a cafe for a short break and a coffee.

At the top of the last set of steps I found myself walking through an overgrown path, wondering when the last pair of boots set foot there. Houses located in a row was a sure fire indicator that I had reached the village. I followed the coastal path signs and headed down to the harbour. A small coffee shop on the harbour road beckoning me to take a break and order a mocha.

The cafe was small, the kitchen and serving area taking up half the room, an upstairs seating area crammed with table and chairs. I would imagine it would be very cozy in there during the height of summer. I'd just caught them before they were closing so ordered a large mocha and got a quick charge. I finished my drink and ordered a second small mocha to top me up before I set off on the final leg of the day.

The hill out of st abbs was, once again, steep. I figured I should get used to this as it'll only get harder the further north I went.

The coastal path signs directed me back to the clifftop and a well trodden path showed me the way. The views were simply getting more stunning every step I took. A bench overlooking the harbour seemed like an ideal place to stop and reflect. While I was reflecting and gazing back at the quaint fishing village two hikers stopped and started chatting to me. Strangely enough I'd met them a few days earlier in the outdoor shop in Berwick. They had parked nearby and were now heading back there after a days hike taking in the stunning landscape and watching the nesting birds. As they wandered off I picked up my gear and set off the way they haf come, walking a few minutes then stopping to take it all in. I kept going, the birds all chatting, some diving into the sea and feasting on the fish oblivious of their presence.

The path had now become, well, non existent. I could see a track leading slightly inland but I wanted to remain as close to the coast as possible. I plotted a course in my head using the features around me and set off. I knew I was walking further than I needed to but it was worth it. I was seeing things that only the adventurous had seen before me. A extremely steep slope now lead down to a small car park and cove. Taking very small and steady steps I cautiously headed down. As I came closer I noticed two guys with diving equipment were getting ready for a dive. I walked over said hi and asked if they were padi or bsac. "Neither" they said "free divers". Free diving, for those that don't know, is where you dive without air tanks, they are able to use a single lung of air extremely efficiently and stay underwater for over 5 minutes. These two also had spears and were looking for a lobster or two for their dinner. The sea water was extremely clear and apparently a reasonable 14 degrees Celsius.

I chatted with the two guys while they got ready and they told me about what they'd seen out in the bay. They said they often saw the birds diving into the water and "flying" passed them which seemed unnatural. They'd also had dolphins playing with them and said if I looked out to sea I may be lucky and see minke whales.

As they set off to go catch dinner I decided it was now too late to continue so I found a level piece of ground in the ling grass and pitched up. I then headed off to find dry dead wood to build a small fire and dry my socks and boots. While sitting there I watched the sky turn to fire as the sun set before settling into my sleeping bag.

15^th Jun 2014

It must be something to do with the Scottish air, I woke after having yet another good nights sleep. It was 8:30 and although slightly cloudy it was a lovely warm morning. There was hardly a breeze as I gathered my things together and began to pack up. I put my rnli tshirt on and noticed it had started getting holes in it. Well thats rubbish I thought, I'd had it less than a week and already its falling apart.

One of the free divers I'd met the evening before had slept in his van in the carpark and was boiling some water for a cup of tea. He offered me a cup so I took my mug over and happily sipped on it as we chatted about his dive the night before. Visibility had been about 7 or 8 metres and they'd been lucky enough to catch two lobsters which were now sat in a freezer waiting to become lunch. While we were talking and I was packing away the tent the diver was getting ready for a morning dive. He was hoping to get some shrimps to accompany his lobster. Not agreeing with over fishing by commercial vessels he'd decided to abstain from visiting fishmongers and only ever ate what he caught.

I had nearly finished packing up the tent when another car pulled up and a gentleman got out. He approached me saying "you know this is a nature reserve, you can't camp here". He was obviously English and didn't understand the Scottish laws about wild camping. You see Scottish laws protect an individuals basic rights. You have the right to walk anywhere in Scotland, there's no such thing as tresspass. You also have the right to wild camp anywhere, even on private land so long as you don't leave a mess or cause damage. This was soon confirmed when a national parks warden turned up confirming these facts.

The gentleman was here doing a short film about conservation in the area so he parted with the warden and I set off to try my best to keep as close to the coast line as possible, which was to be honest a really tough challenge.

The hills and cliffs ahead of me were going to be tough. Not only steep but also unfenced and dangerous. I headed for the base of the first slope, it towered above me like a small grassy mountain. Taking small steps and zigzagging to reduce the impact of the gradient I slowly but surely climbed to the peak. Gazing down on where I had pitched up the night before the cars in the car park looked like toys. I carried on, planning a route as I went. Although there was an official coastal path I found myself quite often off it so that I could get closer to the cliff edges. Thinking that the previous days hike was hard did not prepare me for what the day had in store. Carefully walking down slopes and gingerly hiking up slopes was pretty much all I would be doing all day, taking short breaks to plan my next move every 15 minutes or so. About 2 hours in to my hike I came across a fairly formidable valley. Looking below I could see a small bridge crossing the stream at the bottom. I plotted a reasonable path down using game trails to help with the task and gradually descended to the bottom. I hadn't had anything to eat yet so stopped to rehydrate a hot start breakfast, again from a new supplier. Sat on the bridge boiling the water I'd taken from the stream I noticed a swarm of midges, famous in Scotland for essentially feeding off your blood. It didn't appear they were interested in mine but instead they rested on the wooden rail preventing you from falling off the bridge. I ate the breakfast wondering why I'd not been attacked and what it was that generally attracted them to attack others. In the end I settled on the fact I wasn't wearing any deodorant or aftershave and left it at that.

On the other side of the bridge was yet another insane climb to the top of the cliffs, I headed off and gradually made my way up. I set off across the wild, rocky clifftops again stopping every so often to gaze back at the bay I had slept above and plotting my next route. That is until I came across the mother of all valleys. By this time I was well and truly off the coastal path and relying entirely on my adventurous nature and unique set of skills.

From where I was standing on top of the peak I could see the start of the valley and a small bridge spanning the fast flowing waters of the small river flowing through it. It was going to be an interesting hike, having to climb walls and cross fields in order to get to the bridge. There was absolutely no way I would be able to drop down to the valley floor and then climb up the other side from where I was. I set off across the rocks, down into dips and jumping over small streams until I reached the stone bridge. On the other side I then had to climb a slope up into a field where I could get a vantage point looking over the small forest that lined the valley. I sat down on my backpack and took a breather conjuring up a plan in my head to get back to the cliff top edge. As I looked across the grassy field I spotted a young buck prancing across, it stopped for a brief moment and turned its head looking directly at me before setting off again and jumping over a fence into a small wooded area. Again another magical experience on the trek.

Ahead of me I could see a forest with long luscious green grass and a track leading up to the top of the cliffs. All I had to do was head down the field in front of me, climb over a gate and head up the track. Seemed like an easy enough task and it would take me exactly where I wanted to be. I set off down the sloping field, I climbed the gate and landed in the long grass the track ahead of me. Well this is where perspective can play a big role. From the top of the previous field the grass appeared to be succulent and inviting, up close it appeared to be about 5 feet tall and full of stinging nettles and prickly thistles. The track that could be easily picked out at a distance now appeared to disappear into the forest. This wasn't going to be as simple as I'd thought! There was nothing else to do but go for it. I picked the route I thought would be easiest and started marching through this wild and inhospitable terrain until I reached the top. A fairly high wall preventing me from going any further. I followed the wall until I found a section I could climb over. On the other side the grass was considerably shorter, kept that way by the resident sheep.

I wanted to get a photo of the valley so made my way back and found a vantage point and good place to take the snap. Then it was time to try and navigate this harsh wilderness onto my chosen destination for the day, pease bay.

It took some doing and was really hard going but I eventually found myself descending into the bay. It was getting late now but I could see a caravan park surrounded by trees which seemed like it would have a shop or bar that I could get a drink and maybe pitch up for the night. I also had a look at the run of the coast ahead of me and was reasonably pleased that it appeared to be less daunting than the days hike, the power station I was heading for the following day a little out of place amongst the beauty of the Scottish coast.

The caravan park backed up off of the sandy bay in the base of a wide valley and had a lovely picturesque river running through the middle. I headed into the park and found the shop, it was closed but the sign in the window said it would be open the following morning. Opposite was a bar and restaurant, I headed in and got myself a coffee and was able to use their wifi to upload my photos from the past two days and charge up my phone. At closing time I headed off into the woods to find a quiet spot to setup camp, pitched the coffin and climbed in.

16^th Jun 2014

The birds were chirping and the sun was up. Amongst the trees a sleeping beauty lay. With water cascading of a small fall a voice called out "ALBERT! Come here", the serenity of my slumber broken I decided it was time to get up. It was 9:30 anyway and I'd somewhat over slept. Camping amongst the trees is where I always seem most at home and this was no exception. No one was even aware of my presence. I packed away and headed off back to the caravan park I'd arrived at the night before and made my way to the shop which was now open. I needed to get some snacks for the next few days and have found a packet of sweets helps retain a good steady pace, the sugar giving me short sharp boosts of energy. They also did bacon rolls and coffee which seemed like a reasonable way to start the day.

Having breakfast is always a good way to start the day and I always enjoy a nice mug of coffee. With my body now fueled I set off up the hill from the holiday park and headed onto the cliffs via a small wooded area, a little waterfall trickling below under the cover of some trees. I followed the path along the cliffs gazing out to sea, the sound of waves as always comforting every step I took.

The tiny village of cove was not far away and I found myself soon heading down to it. I had been told that the harbour there was something worth looking at by several people I'd met along the way, so I was hoping for something out of the ordinary. As I got lower I caught my first glance of this enchanting treasure. From where I was it looked pretty much like the harbour I'd seen in Burnmouth with one exception, there was a tunnel cut into the cliff leading to it. Naturally I was intrigued.

The slope down to the harbour was fairly long which when going down isn't a problem but I knew I'd have to eventually climb back up. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. The tunnel leading to the harbour and beach looked like a railway tunnel, a bricked arch. I went in using the assistive light on my phone to reveal the sandstone walls and locked iron doors. I wondered what lay behind them, I later found out there were more tunnels leading to large hollowed rooms. Unfortunately they were closed to the public so I wasn't able to explore. Walking along the tunnel, which was a fair distance, I met a gentleman coming the otherway. I asked him what the harbour was like, he smiled and replied "well its something else, I can't find the words to describe it". All excited he marched off clinging to his camera as though he'd seen something that would change his life. Well, I figured that maybe I'd not seen the full picture from the top of the cliffs looking down. I turned to face the tunnel exit, took a deep breath and prepared myself for a mystical view worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster. I stepped out into the light, turned to my left and braced myself. It was just a harbour very similar to the one I'd seen in Burnmouth except this one had a beach. Maybe the guy I'd met just didn't get out much, I couldn't say, none the less I carried on and walked down the sandy slope to the beach, put my bag on the floor and took a seat. Across the harbour three boats lay on the sandy floor waiting for the tide to rise. Two women were sat on the bank chatting when one turned to me and said "you're the walker, we've been expecting you". This took me a little by surprise, we started chatting. The film maker I'd met the day before had phoned ahead and let them know about my journey around the coast. Across the harbour walked an elderly man with huge white beard, it was the husband of the woman I was talking to. I asked about the history of the harbour and started to understand the magic of the unique location and was invited to explore the bays either side. Naturally I accepted and set off leaving my bag where it lay. I walked over to a natural cave visitors had enscribed their names into, the red mud had left an interesting array of colours on the walls. I then headed up onto the harbour walls and climbed down on to the rocky bay on the other side of the wall. It was interesting seeing the way the sea had carved the rocks. I then headed off to explore the other bay on the far side, a huge rock with a massive hole grabbing my attention, I had to take a closer look and seize a photo opportunity.

There were two couples there as well, the two women fascinated by the shrimp swimming in a rock pool and the two men interested in the rocky formations. I was intrigued by the two groups. Anemones clinging to his moist surfaces of the rocks waiting for the tide to return, something I'd never seen before. Well we kept chatting about all sorts from history to natural history. The tide was starting to come in now so we all headed back to the safety of the harbour.

I was about to head off back on the trek when I was invited to lunch so I stayed and joined them. The couples had rented a quaint little blue house above the beach for a few days. Whilst munching on the gorgeous spread we watched the tide come in and the boats tise. A pod of dolphins playing just outside the harbour walls. I had to get this on film, I went to my backpack and pulled out my video camera. Unfortunately it had been damaged, an impact related injury sustained at some point during the last leg of the trek. It was a shame especially Now I could see the mystic enchantment of this lovely little place. It was peaceful and yet exciting at the same time. The waves crashing as the swell hit the main harbour wall, aggressive outside and placid inside. I was then offered a shower whilst the two women put on there swimsuits and like two school girls walked into the harbour waters.

Time was now getting on and I had to leave so we said our goodbyes and I headed back up the sandy slope and back through the tunnel cut into the cliff. I followed the coastal path, a hedge preventing me from getting right to the clifftop edge. The path ran alongside though for a while and then descended into a wooded area and out onto the stoney shores of a secluded and deserted bay. Walking along the shore I noticed the sand was a dark volcanic colour. At the far end the path then ascended into the woods once more. I could hear running water and it seemed to be running over a waterfall. I kept climbing the steps until a gorgeous waterfall presented itself amongst the trees. It was amazing, I just love waterfalls. I had to take a closer look. Looking down at the cascading water I figured I could climb down to the base and get some fantastic pictures. It was a scramble but completely worth it. When I finished I then made my way back up and carried on. I wanted to try and get a few more miles in before pitching up for the night.

17^th Jun 2014

Seeing the waterfall was amazing and imagining the ones I had yet to discover occupied my mind over the next few hours hiking. I headed up to the cliff tops and around the fields following the coast, always with the sea to my right. On the horizon I could see Torness nuclear power station, looking a little out of place amongst the natural beauty of the Scottish coastal landscapes it wasn't hard to spot.

After a while I found a small track down to the beach below and althoughfairly steep, i descended down at a slow and calculating pace. The beach was very much like many others I had walked on and the firm sand made for easy progress. As I stomped on the power station grew larger until it towered above me and the beach ended. To get passed the power station I needed to clamber over the large rocks that had been placed in front as a defence against coastal erosion. Fishermen were casting off just in front and I wondered if theyd ever caught a fish with three eyes somewhat similar to those in the Simpsons cartoons.

A concrete path led me around the power station to a small harbour on the other side where dunbar rnli had moored their lifeboat. Now with the power station behind me the coast returned to its own natural beauty. Casting my mind back it reminded me of the Lincolnshire coastline.

Evening was now approaching so I needed to find somewhere quiet to set down for the night. I carried on walking, sandy dunes and long grass beneath my feet, a lighthouse in the distance. As the light faded I spotted a level piece of ground amongst the long grass and decided that it would be home for the night.

The following morning the sun was out in full force. I packed up and headed off towards the lighthouse and around the coast. Looking ahead the terrain seemed fairly flat compared to what I had experienced during my first few days in Scotland.

17^th Jun 2014

The coastline here was not so much sandy, more rocky. I did my best to walk along the shore but eventually had to head up on the the sand dunes to continue on, the seaweed too slippery to navigate safely. On my left I approached an old lime kiln so headed over to investigate further, remembering that fateful night on holy island. The entrances were blocked by large wire fences which meant a close inspection was out of the question so I turned to my right and set off looking for my next adventure or random encounter.

It was fairly easy going and I could see dunbar in the distance, all that stood between me and a short break was a golf course, signs warning walkers of flying golf balls.

Trekking long distances and over such a prolonged duration gives you plenty of time to think. You can end up thinking about all sorts, those you miss, adventures you've had, things you would do differently and plans for the future. I was thinking about one of the events in my life that inspired me to attempt the trek in the first place. It was my 800km hike across Spain, the camino de santiago, in particular those I had met. One individual was a guy called dave. Dave had worked for the o/s maps and had let his London house out so that he could go for a walk. When I met him in spain he had been walking for 3 years. He'd walked nepal, Thailand, england and many more long distance hikes. Ahead of me I saw a hiker, arms crossed and head down, much like dave walked. As he approached I called out "dave, is that you?". The hiker replied "yes!", he approached, arms still crossed. It was indeed dave, he was still walking, this time from john o'groats to lands end via the east coast. It was to be honest a very random reunion, I mean what are the odds of that happening. We chatted about the camino and what we were both doing. Unfortunately we were in the middle of a golf course, both heading in opposite directions otherwise we'd have stopped for a beer and spent a little longer reminiscing. It was fantastic seeing an old friend again and especially whilst on the trek. Dave set off, heading south and I set off heading north to dunbar watching out for flying golf balls as I went.

It didn't take long before I was walking along the promenade towards the town when I met a man walking his dog, fascinated by the pack we started to chat. He mentioned a book called "keep the sea to the left" a book written by amy weir, the young lady I had researched before I left on my journey. She completed the coastal walk back in 2010 using a campervan as a support vehicle and liked the coast along this section so much she eventually moved here. Unfortunately she died soon after of cancer.

Dunbar is a very typical Scottish town with one main high street with shops lined ip on either side. The old harbour was particularly interesting and worth visiting. Its also where the dunbar lifeboat station is located even though the lifeboat is actually moored at Torness. I had to pop in to say hi and called them while walking down the high street to let them know I was coming. When I arrived I was welcomed with a handshake and cup of coffee. As with every lifeboat station I had visited the guys were passionate about their job. I was able to charge my phone and use the wifi to upload the mornings photos. They also offered some advice about how to continue my trek passed the john muir park. Originally I was going to attempt to walk along the spit north of dunbar, but I'd missed the tide so it was suggested I followed the river along till I found an old bridge. I was shown its location on google maps and it seemed like a reasonable diversion.

I gathered myself together and set off round the cove just beyond the harbour and along the clifftop path towards the spit. Sure enough the spit was inaccessible as the tide had claimed the beach I was going to walk across. I passed an unusual bridge that ended in the water and wondered what the point of it was. I carried on and followed the path round and towards the john muir park, a lovely forest laying on the efge of the estuary. The sun was really beating down and I found myself tempted to pitch up and enjoy the rest of the day beside the water between the trees.

As I walked amongst the trees I was approached by another man out walking his dog. Shaun was a local who loved walking but had never even contemplated a journey quite as big as the one I was currently doing. Knowing that I had essentially given up luxuries such as a bed and showers he kindly offered me both. I had to decline though as his home was in the wrong direction and it would have meant walking back the way I had come and secondly I was attempting to finish the challenge by only camping out and not sleeping in a bed. I also felt I needed to clock up a few more miles that evening as well. As we parted I felt tempted to shout back and accept his offer but determined to carry on I didn't.

The sun was slowly sinking behind the forest on the other side of the estuary and the view was spectacular. I kept walking along the bank of the river until I came across a field. In the field were sheep, as I entered they began calling to each other, the lambs running to their mums and all herding together. It was a hell of a racket. I could see the bridge ahead of me. It was an old victorian iron bridge, wooden pallets lashed to either side preventing anyone or anything ftom crossing. As I got closer I discovered why. Quite simply it had seen better days. I climbed over the wooden pallet and stood for a moment analysing the potential risks.

A) the wooden floor boards were either missing or rotten

B) the iron work was rusty and a couple of the stabilising restraints had become detached and fallen into the river

What was the worse that could happen?

A) I step ob a board, it breaks and I fall into the river

B) the bridge collapses under the weight of me and my backpack and I fall into the river

Taking all the risks into consideration I started to cross, holding on to the rusty rail and putting my right foot on the metal framework and testing the boards with my left. This carried on across the rickety bridge, my heart was pounding especially when I reached the middle and noticed that the bridge had started to not only sway but also flex. It was too late to turn back so I carried on doing exactly what I had done up until now. Right foot on metal, left on wood and holding on to the rail. Ping! The rusty rail i was clinging onto decided it no longer wanted to be part of the bridge.

17^th Jun 2014

My sphincter clenched and I paused a moment to reevaluate my position.

A) I was in the middle of an unsafe bridge, well passed the point of return. 
B) I needed to get off this unsafe bridge as quickly as possible before another part of the bridge decided it no longer wanted to be part of the bridge.

I decided that my safest option was now to cross over to the other side and put my left foot on the metal framework and my right foot would test the boards hoping that the bridge would stay together just long enough for me to cross back onto something more solid, such as the bank that run alongside the river.

My heart was pounding fairly hard now and the adrenaline was replacing the blood in my veins. As I stepped off the structure and climbed over the pallet on the opposite bank I couldn't help but sigh with relief. It could have been a slightly damp ending to this little adventure but thankfully not.

I turned to continue back towards the coast heading for some woods whilst looking for a good place to camp up for the night. As I started walking a herd of cows, that were grazing on the top of the hill started stampeding towards me. Trying not to make eye contact I carried on along the river bank. They stopped and started stampeding parallel to me in to the next field. I kept going until I reached the edge of the field adjoining the forest I was seeking refuge in. I climbed over the fence and headed up into the forest. Happy that I'd safely crossed over the river and avoided being trampled by a herd of cows.

I walked up into the safety of the woods, following a small track until I found a nice little area of level ground. I unpacked the tent and climbed into my sleeping bag reflecting on the days events.