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| Bass Rock just visible in the Firth of Forth, Scotland's east coast |
Two bike rides in the recent hot weather, do you remember those two days? The first, it began warm with a thin skin of cloud and later it got hot, it got like France or Greece. With the bikes in the back of my friends’ van we drove to Walkerburn, then cycled all the way to Peebles on the cycle path, beside the river, and beyond the bridge at Peebles, we cycled on and stopped for lunch, beside the river, always the river, and the sunshine, all clouds had left now and there were trees on both sides of the river and J & R sat on a bench and I sat on the grass, partly in the shade.
There was quite a large group of people near us, they had their own camping chairs, it seemed they had their own table even, there were several adults and a few children, it’s like a Seurat painting says R yes I say, la Grande Jatte, with the colours of people's clothes, the green of the grass and river banks, the darker green of sycamore and pine, the blue of sky, the black and brown shades of two passing dogs, eager to rummage in our picnic, while the owner calls to them and apologises. Our picnic is bananas and dates, crisps and cashew nuts.
I take a photo to compare to Seurat’s painting as the hot sunshine has turned everything dream-like so we could easily have turned into La Grande Jatte, but somehow I missed out the people with their picnic table so you only see the grass and the buttercups and the nearby pedestrian bridge and you can’t see the river. So it looks nothing at all like La Grande Jatte.
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| Georges Seurat La Grande jatte |
On the cycle path on the way back we see two stoats running out of the grass and onto to the path, one after the other, we speak to two black ponies and give them two apples, one each.
And all the while it feels so hot we could be in Corfu we could be in the south of France, and the countryside has never looked so lovely.
The next day, also hot and sunny, two in a row! we drive to Belhaven on the east coast, then get the bikes out and cycle along a path that is part grass and part sand and then turns completely into sand as we cycle on the beach, though the tide is out so far out that the sea is invisible except for a distant blue blur.
Lunch break under the pines and after that the fun really begins. The path is narrow, well that’s one thing, and there is long grass on either side so it’s like being in a tunnel, you can’t dodge out of it. It also goes up and down up and down and sometimes there are tree roots straying across the path to bump you up and down just a little more. At the bottom and sometimes at the top of each dip and rise the path twists so you have to turn quickly as well as change gear, as well as try not to waggle the front wheel around in desperate different directions in attempts to stay on the path rather than founder, stop and fall off in the long grass. It is marvellous. I do well until near the end, when I come off the path twice, the second time slipping down a grassy bank (yet manage not to fall off the bike).
The next part was a straight and mostly level path, with high grasses on each side, that whipped at your hands and arms and legs then went on through some woods which were blessedly shady, and we go past a high fence behind which some emus and llamas graze and saunter casually.
We don’t see the sea till we’re back at Belhaven, but it’s still distant. We spend a short time by the beach, but not long, there’s a chilly sea breeze which hasn’t put off some people but it does us as we have experienced the searing heat of the inland cycle route (obstacle course) which reminded us (in temperature terms) of the lovely path from Agios Stefanos in Corfu so we were not going to enjoy a return to the usual Scottish beach experience (torn between exposing one’s limbs to the rare event of direct sunlight and wrapping oneself in a blanket to keep warm, because of the chilly wind). But just before we left I made another attempt at capturing a Seurat likeness of La Grande Jatte.
Then to Dunbar for some ice cream. Via a dead end (is this the right road? asks J. Yes say I, no says R.) The end of the road is full of vans belonging to builders who must be carrying out repairs, and it is difficult to turn around. (I told you it wasn’t the right road says R.) It’s worth the wait in the queue outside the ice cream shop.
We get a closeup view of the sea. And an impressive Georgian building (partly Adam design).
Just as impressive gardens which I spied through an archway. J & I went through the archway and spoke to the lady who lives there who tells us she created these gardens, no one else in the tenement was very interested and she has done it all – vegetable patches, flowers, a box hedge (that was there before).
After chatting to her for a while we go back to the main street where R was sitting on a bench waiting for us, complaining about the time we took.
Drive back home was through the village of Stenton, with manicured topiary, an old well and an old churchyard.
It is eerily quiet and deserted. Back home through Gifford, Humbie and Soutra Aisle, with no arguments about which road to take. Glorious adventures, after not having been far away from home and garden for months – and to see the sea!
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