An adventure

Apart from the horrible news coming out of Christchurch NZ, the day started unremarkably enough with a trip to the station and hence Newcastle and routine work. The train back left on time but suddenly stopped for half-an-hour just short of Berwick-upon Tweed. Eventually we rumbled into Berwick station and were told the train was terminating there due to overhead cable damage further up the line. They would be organising alternative transport to Edinburgh. Hah - won't get fooled again. I can just imagine an hour or so waiting with a lot of grumpy train passengers for coaches to turn up only to find there isn't enough room for everyone. And staying in the Kings Arms (!) wasn't an option because it's closed down.

So as before I emerged from the station to see a small unpretentious sort of bus saying "Galashiels" on its signboard - did he know of a bus to Edinburgh? Well there's one from Galashiels bus station 15 min after he gets there. This would definitely be the, er, scenic route home. Well, it would be scenic in daylight. But it would cost me a lot of money, the driver said.....aha, I said, deploying my lovely Scottish bus pass which gives me free travel not only in Scotland but up to and including Berwick-upon-Tweed. I prefer to be on the move, it gives the illusion of progress, so I jumped on.

First of all we headed along the border to Coldstream. The bus driver waved cheerily at any oncoming buses he met and also at a police van which he let pass him. They were presumably off to catch some cattle rustlers - this is reiver country, you know. He stopped several times to pick up passengers at tiny bus stops in the middle of nowhere. It was mostly very dark outside. Some excitement on reaching Kelso (thinks, isn't that where Dotty lives?); glimpsed a Westie cocking his leg on his evening stroll in the park, football training under floodlights and a sign saying that the next racing at Kelso is on 5th March....ouch, ouch, Kelso is very cobbled, v quaint and also v inappropriate for bus with knackered suspension. A Chinese man got on, with bulging LIDL carrier bags....St Boswells....(Smailholm??)...Melrose. Suddenly there's a hospital with an ambulance delivering someone to casualty(must be Borders General). After an hour and a half we drew into Galashiels which appeared like a huge glowing metropolis. Hmm. I noticed an establishment called the Reivers Sports Bar; maybe that's where they go these days. The only place I could have blipped something other than reflections in the windows of the bus interiors was in Galashiels bus station (an utterly dismal place) but the natives seemed a tad restless so I didn't risk photographing them.

Ah, now this is a bigger bus going to Edinburgh; but oh, it will take another hour and a half because it must go via Innerleithen, Peebles, Penicuik...It would be quicker to list the Borders towns that I did not pass through (to wit, Selkirk, Hawick, Jedburgh). Getting a bit hungry and a tad thirsty now (everything shut and locked at Gala bus station)...trying not to think about the bladder. Re-enter trance-like state....beginning to understand why Hunter S Thompson took drugs...more darkness....more tiny villages... Cardrona....lots of young folk use these country buses....two dogs with owners between Gala and Peebles, dogs very interested in each other but owners not. Young woman with toddler and tiny baby from Peebles to Edinburgh.

I got home eventually, to a cold beer and a hot bath. It was rather a long journey, but very interesting. I was too tired to tell DH all about it, so I've written it down here. I would love to do it again in daylight. (Not that I'm wanting the trains to break down again).

But most of all I was happy about the absence of earthquakes.

(Oh, the blip: the only photo I found in my camera, taken on my way to the station in the morning. Seems like a lifetime ago.)