This is the section of the Rinns of Galloway Coastal Path between Kirkcolm and Cornwall Lighthouse. Some easy walking, some annoying sections; views across Loch Ryan and into the Forth of Clyde, with Ailsa Craig peeping through the sea haze; a wild goat, roe deer, and butterflies in profusion. At the tail end of a heatwave, with the tail somewhat longer than expected. This is a section made for contemplation, though the word “travail” was in the first title I wrote.
This was a hot day, forecast to rise to 23º , so we did not bring the dogs and that was probably for the best since there would have been quite a bit of on-lead road walking. The official route gives part one as Stranraer to Corsewall and at 13.5 miles but that was a little far for my ambling pace, so we walked about halfway.
The Rinns of Galloway Coastal Path starts at the Harbour Offices (the tourist centre) in Stranraer and is marked by an “archway and a seat with interpretation and native planting“. These are made of rust red Corten steel which was chosen to reflect the area’s maritime and spiritual heritage.
There is an attraction in these billowy uplands which increases the better we know them; beauty in the mighty stretches of green pasture sloping upwards and backwards, as often as not vanishing into grey mist in the acres of waving brake, the many-coloured rocks and boulders, the flashing streams and burns, the flowers and wild birds, less wild here than in the peopled lowlands. Then there is the silence and all-aloneness of the Borderlands. You may walk all day and see no one except some solitary fisher, or a shepherd and his collies on the fellside; above all, perhaps, there is the consciousness that you are treading on historic ground, where each hill could tell of some fierce conflict, and where each valley and stream is associated with the loves, the passions, and the death-throes of buried races.
— John Cordeaux.
Our taxi dropped us by the Lowry Shelter in Berwick. We had our photos taken then headed back on to the England Coast Path and short climb to where we could look down onto the curves of Bucket Rocks and the swirl of Ladies Skerr. (I find the lack of an apostrophe here grates somewhat so L et’s put that right: Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean – roll!)
7.12 miles 3h 41m ascent 115m. 2.4 miles of which were on the England Coast Path.
Berwick was our “rest day”. I didn’t really expect much and was pleasantly surprised. We had come across three Lowry Trail boards the previous day and decided to we could use the rest day to complete the trail.
I had no idea that Lowry had painted Berwick, nor for that matter that he had ever been there.
We took the Lowry Trail as our main route, which meant we strolled along the city walls, explored some nooks and crannies we might otherwise have missed and, for once, we had a sit-down lunch, bought rather than brought.
A great day with good weather and easy walking along the KC3 England Coast Path.
Land of singing waters, And winds from off the sea, God bring me to Northumberland, The land where I would be.
— Wilfred Gibson
The causeway at Holy Island was the starting point:from there we looked north along the coast, our way marked by an avenue of anti-tank cubes. To our left, an RAF A400 flew by, slowly losing altitude. It must have come down to a couple of hundred feet. I thought at first that it was landing which was really strange since there were no nearby airfields. As is required I said “look, a C-17” because it’s always a C-17. The modern military aircraft was an interesting counterpoint to the WW2 beach defences.
It had been a while since I had walked with a rucksack and I woke this morning with rigor mortis. It was not generalised so either the early phase or already beginning to wane. I had been unusually tired the previous evening but was pretty sure I had been alive. So it was too soon for rigor mortis to be wearing off yet. I didn’t recall any interaction with the undead, though I had mentioned seeing a photograph of a zombie. (I had intended leaving a link but cannot now find the photo).
This walk had not been particularly arduous and Knockbrex Hill, its highest point, is only 40m high (and not 130m as some internet sites claim – it is 130 feet high). But it was my first outing with a rucksack this year, and the first over uneven ground. These two factors left me with stiffness in trapezius and quadriceps femoris.
I’ve heard them lilting at our ewe-milking, Lasses a-lilting before the dawn of day; But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning- The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away.
3.70 miles 1h 44m ascent 88m (Budle Point walk) 1.99 miles 1h 5m ascent 53m (Bamburgh Castle)
Wyrd bið ful aræd
The Wanderer
I’m so out of touch with TV that I didn’t recognise the Last Kingdom inspired posters. Nor did the quote “Destiny is All” that was plastered on them ring any bells in mt memory. I know now. In my defence, I have met the phrase before in “The Wanderer”, a poem from the 9th or 10th century, where it is usually translated as something like “fate is fully fixed”.
The point of the posters is to highlight the Anglo-Saxon heritage of Bamburgh Castle. Kings Kings of Northumbria ruled lands from the Forth in the north, south to the Humber and Mersey, from the Galloway coast, to the North sea. The Celtic fortress at Din Guaire was captured by the Saxon King, Ida, who was said to be descended from Woden. It would become the royal seat of Bernicia and then of Northumbria. Ida’s grandson, King Æthelfrith , named it for his wife Queen Bebba. It became Bebbanburh, and in time Bamburgh
But enough musing on the distant past. The weather forecast another bitterly cold and windy day with rain from midday so we planned a relatively short walk after which we would explore the castle itself.
