A Rather Grand Wedding

John and I were invited to a wedding at Monteviot, in the Scottish Borders. I thought it might be a good idea to make a long weekend of it, so we could do some exploring. We took the train from Kings X to Berwick-on-Tweed. Gaia had found us a wonderful car hire firm, East Coast Rental Ltd., owned by a charming man called Steven, who was waiting for us on arrival. I wish all car hire firms were like his! He is much recommended for a fine service.

I had also booked us into a bed and breakfast from the tried and trusted Alastair Sawday travel books and about forty minutes later, we arrived at Lessudden, a historic tower house just outside the pretty village of St. Boswells. Apparently, the writer, Sir Walter Scott, used to come here frequently to see his aunt and uncle. Their rather formidable portraits are on the wall and they seemed to look somewhat disapprovingly over our shoulders as we tucked into a delicious breakfast next morning. We could hear the comforting clucking of hens outside as we ate our scrambled eggs. Angela is a wonderful and inventive cook. The hens are a very special breed that like their independence and wander off to forage at leisure in the woods. She has trouble finding them as they don’t respond to a call like the dogs.

Everything, including the bed, was of grand proportions. We had a very comfortable sitting room to ourselves next to the bedroom and the view down to the river was full of promise. Even more so after a cup of tea and home made fruit cake, delivered by Angela. The sun was sparkling on the water as we made our way down to the river’s edge via the golf course. I felt the air fresh and sweet on my face and it was a joy to be away from the swarm of city life. I also love arriving somewhere totally new and having the feeling that maybe I am on the brink of falling in love with it.

Lessudden

Lessudden

Down by the riverside

Down by the riverside

The riverbank

The riverbank

View down to the river with the Eildon hills beyond...

View down to the river with the Eildon hills beyond…

The wedding wasn’t to take place until early evening on the next day and so we had time ahead. We set off first to Jedburgh to look at the abbey. It was windy (blowy, as my Scottish aunt used to say). The town is attractive and parking was easy. There’s a small museum at the abbey which gives its history and then you walk across a wooden bridge to the impressive ruins.

Detail - Jedburgh abbey

Detail – Jedburgh abbey

My Scottish aunt’s shade seemed to be flitting through ‘the bare ruined choirs’ and up the deeply worn stone spiral stairs, concealed in the pillars of the abbey. But the sandstone is so soft and mellow and not in the least likely to harbour ghosts. The reason I kept thinking about her is that when I approached the wall below, it reminded me of a trayful of the tablet she used to make for us as children. It was the epitome of glorious sweetness. Unlike fudge, when tablet is cooled from the oven it has a slightly crunchy top. She would offer you a square – all of us children having waited impatiently for ever until it had cooled. You put it in your mouth and felt the top crack, fragile as an eggshell or like thin icing on top of a millefeuille, and in an instant your mouth would be filled with the exquisite melting mixture of sugar cooked with condensed milk. I looked at the wall and my mouth watered, although now as an adult I would find that level of sweetness overpowering. But the memory remained delicious. I wondered if there might be a cake shop in Jedburgh.

Wall, Jedburgh abbey

Wall, Jedburgh abbey

Herb garden at Jedburgh abbey...

Herb garden at Jedburgh abbey…

with zillions of bees...

with zillions of bees…

graveyard flowers...

graveyard flowers…

and a handsome man, sound asleep.

and a handsome man, sound asleep.

On our way out, I espied a large building advertising Jedburgh woollen mill and despite John’s reluctance, I just had to go in and look. We returned to the car with a very pretty scarf – for John! I can’t remember the name of the tartan but it was in soft cashmere blues and oranges with green and brown tones against a heather coloured background mingled in. Very understated and beautiful! Next stop, Dryburgh abbey, which is close to where we are staying. When we got there, all was in full flow for a wedding taking place with pipes and drums and full regalia but we still got to go and have a look at the ruins, which are in a fantastic and tranquil setting in a loop of the river Tweed. The monks had a wealth of water and fish on their doorstep.

Not wanting to interrupt the wedding party, we disappeared amongst the greenery – the lushness and variety of healthy looking trees was heartwarming . Back in the car, we followed the signs on a ‘B’ road winding up the hill to the William Wallace monument. William Wallace, the ‘Guardian of Scotland’, stands an impressive 31 feet high. It’s worth the ten minute leafy stroll through the woods to come upon this giant red sandstone figure, staking his claim on an outcrop overlooking the river Tweed below.

William Wallace, 'Guardian of Scotland'

William Wallace, ‘Guardian of Scotland’

With muddy feet, we hurried back to Lessudden to get dressed for the wedding, where we were greeted as ever by a cacophony of fiercely barking but sweetly good natured dogs, whose primary aim was to get you joyfully muddy all over! I must just mention our lunch time stop in St. Boswells, which is a bookshop with antiques and a café, offering imaginative and delicious lunches and teas. It’s called ‘The Main Street Trading Company’ and is run by a husband and wife team. Rosamund de la Hey used to work at Bloomsbury Publishing. Between them they have created ‘A kind of dream bookshop and small town café’. I quote from their brochure here (Neil Gaiman). This is a jewel of a place that is well worth taking a detour to visit – and it won the Children’s Independent Bookseller of the Year’ award in 2010. There are many books for adults also! May it thrive – it deserves to.

The big bathroom is nice and warm and we were soon ready. I wore a blue velvet coat dress with a brooch of filigree silver and blue ‘sapphires’ – costume jewellery but nonetheless, original from the 194Os with a price tag of under £20. Monteviot is only a few miles away, so we didn’t hurry but somehow only arrived with a pipsqueak of time to spare. The wedding took place in the Great Hall and all went well, minus a few unrehearsed attacks of boredom from the little page boys. The gardens extend to about thirty acres and the lawns spill down to the river Teviot, which flows along behind the house. Later on, we were ‘bouleversé’ as we stood on a high terrace overlooking the water, being treated to a truly mindblowing firework display, which we heard later on was the talk of the Borders – and probably all the fish and fauna too! I just pointed my camera and clicked over and over. These are a few of the images it caught but of course they don’t really merit the full fantastic show!

A cloud of wedding gold dust

A cloud of wedding gold dust

Mysterious circles of blue...

Mysterious circles of blue…

Fantastic sparks fill the air...

Fantastic sparks fill the air…

leading up to a firefly finale.

leading up to a firefly finale.

Although it was very chilly for August, the rain had mercifully stayed away and the evening had been very enjoyable. The bride even sang a love song to her newly wedded husband as we sat at dinner.

However, Sunday morning looked stormy with clouds rolling in and the threat of rain heavy and brooding. I had wanted to drive across the causeway to the island of Lindisfarne; it is closed at high tide. High tide wasn’t until 4pm. So we set off. It took a while and we arrived to find a very choppy sea. However, cars were going across the causeway, so we followed. The further we got, the more the sea was pouring onto the road, partly swept up by the furious gale, which buffeted the car mercilessly. We got to the car park on the island but could hardly stand up because of the wind speed and as we didn’t have weighty waterproofs and hats, we decided to drive back and ended up with slightly less rain but continuing fierce gusts of wind at Bamburgh castle. The wind was screaming like a banshee. A banshee that has a particular grudge against you. John had to hold his glasses on and I was blown flat to the ground in the courtyard, as it howled viciously in my ears and prowled the battlements in search of more victims.

We finally made it inside, which was quite a relief. There was also an art gallery showing contemporary artists and we bought a print of a shoal of blue fish swimming in a circle with one orange one going the other way. It very much echoed John’s notepaper that he designed with Rupert Bassett and it now sits on the wall at Volans in a rather fabulous frame – which cost more than the print!! Afterwards we did walk along the beach and through the dunes. The sun even tried to show its face from time to time but it struggled. However, it was exhilarating to breath in gulps of sea air and watch the waves crashing into shore.

Bamburgh sands from the castle ramparts

Bamburgh sands from the castle ramparts

Bamburgh Castle

Bamburgh Castle

boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away... (Shelley - 'Ozymandias')

boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away… (Shelley – ‘Ozymandias’)

Striding towards the eye of the storm

Striding towards the eye of the storm

Sea change

Sea change

Extraordinary! As we climbed up over the dunes to go back to the car the sun came through strongly and the change in the colour of the sea and the sudden warmth in the air was weird but very welcome. We took a long way round to do some more exploring and found Walter Scott’s favourite view towards the Eildon Hills – known as Scott’s View – naturally! His own home, Abbotsford, is not far from here. We haven’t time to go but it may tempt us back to Border country, along with countless other castles and fortified houses. It is a beautiful part of Britain with a bloody history. I am fortunate to have enjoyed it in peaceful times!

A pretty bridge in evening sunshine

A pretty bridge in evening sunshine

Scott's view

Scott’s view

Back at Lessudden, we were invited to join Alasdair and Angela and their guests for supper, which was very hospitable. Afterwards we read for a while in the upstairs sitting room but soon nodded off with all that sea air and galeforce winds. My hair stuck out because it was full of sea salt. We didn’t really want to leave next morning but when we got back to Berwick, Steven was there to greet us at the station and all we had to do was give up the car keys and hop on the train home.

I’m just adding one or two images that appealed to me and which leave me with good memories of a fabulous wedding party, an exciting weekend and a wish to return to Border country.

Pressed and lacquered flowers

Pressed and lacquered flowers

There be dragons...

There be dragons…

and monsters...

and monsters…

Angel of the North - taken from the train near Newcastle

Angel of the North – taken from the train near Newcastle

and thank goodness we missed him! (taken from train window near Darlington)!

and thank goodness we missed him! (taken from train window near Darlington)!

Stars shining all about you...

Stars shining all about you…

Back home to an amazing sunset seen from attic window.

Back home to an amazing sunset seen from attic window.

END

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