Wandering Through Scotland Part 1

This mammoth journey began in the unassuming town of Kirk Yetholm. It was raining and there really wasn’t anyone else around on this late April morning. It had taken us all day to travel from the flat Suffolk coast and here we were, surrounded by hills just across the Scottish border. For us, this town is our entry point to St. Cuthbert’s Way, which we followed to Melrose. St Cuthbert was an early Anglo-Saxon monk who was popular in medieval Northumbria after his death in 687 CE. This ancient route was the journey that took St Cuthbert’s coffin to his final resting point in the remarkable Lindisfarne Priory. Today it is a relatively forgotten path. We had chosen to walk the Scottish National Trail. A route devised by Cameron McNeish which pieced together some of Scotland’s most famous trails and ended at Cape Wrath in the far north west of Scotland. Neither of us had hiked long-distance trails before but after being trapped in flat East Anglia throughout the pandemic we were desperate for a challenge, and some hills.

We immediately walked in the wrong direction for 15 minutes. As I was navigating and my friend Will was going to be doing the cooking, it was hard for me to place the blame anywhere. I didn’t fancy starving on this trip. Once heading in the right direction, we passed a few smiley people who were out walking their dogs in the drizzle. It is amazing how entirely unfazed Scottish people (and their dogs!) are by rain. We both felt pretty prepared for the mud and the bogs in our new Meindl Bhutan boots. Without these boots I would have damaged my ankles innumerable times and would have had constantly wet feet for weeks. They are the perfect walking boots for Scottish terrain and held up remarkably well to everything that they came in contact with. Traditional soft leather boots such as these are less fashionable now but for Scotland in spring they are what I would recommend. We had been walking around Suffolk in them for the past few weeks. I later realised that breaking them in on flat coastal paths would not prepare them for the hills we would encounter.

As we climbed Wideopen Hill, the highest point on St Cuthbert’s Way, we could see areas of bare hillside that had been fenced off from deer and sheep to be allowed to regenerate. We could also see little patches of snow which was slightly disconcerting. This was our first experience of steep climbs and although the summit was only at 386m, it felt like a lot more. It took us about an hour to reach the top where we were greeted with a magnificent view of the Cheviot Hills. At the top we had just enough energy to tease each other for how out of breath we were. We had spent a few weeks planning this walk and buying a tent (I can’t recommend the Sierra Designs Meteor 3000 highly enough) and visiting Mountain Warehouse multiple times to get everything from sleeping bags to sporks. But, neither of us had been on an adventure like this before so we were fuelled with nervous excitement. We had been for many day hikes before but I had never been out for multiple days in a row, let alone the six weeks we had for this trip.

For the year before I had been working in a dismal warehouse and Will had been doing an online teaching course. So the freedom of the expansive Scottish landscapes was something that we had been longing for.

Our first week took us through landscapes that were dominated by agriculture. We continued to meet funny characters along the way, such as the two old couples searching for the Waymerks of the Southern Upland Way. These are the coins which form a treasure hunt set up along this pathway. The coins are hidden in thirteen locations along the route and help add some intrigue to this section of the walk. We also enjoyed beautiful sections of the River Tweed and a tasty pub lunch at the Ship Inn in Melrose. Melrose also houses the ruins of Melrose Abbey which is a solemn place but it captures the somewhat bleak charm of the region. We walked around outside this magnificent building and couldn’t help but feel the weight of history around us. Walking and camping in this way definitely ties you to the landscape and with all the thinking time it is easy to drift off into thoughts about who else has walked these paths and how did this landscape look then?

We arrived at the packed pub it but the staff were very friendly, kindly filling up our water and even adding a few ice cubes in. This friendliness, and kindness of strangers, were things we were growing accustomed to.

As the week went on we were hounded by rain and then the blisters which I had on my feet became infected and made walking agony. We had been walking around fifteen miles a day which seemed to be our limit at this stage. On the morning I decided it was too painful, we came out of our tent to be greeted by thick snow falling from the sky. It turns out it is not unusual for such wintery weather in April. In fact, well into May we saw snow in the Highlands with Ben Macdui suitably snow-capped when we reached the Cairngorms.

I had not managed to sleep much as my foot throbbed, but luckily our tent was a very nice place to be. Even with both of us and all our belongings. We were nearing Edinburgh so I decided to go to a pharmacy to see if they could help. Coming into Edinburgh very little seems to change until you reach the town of Balerno. This wealthy town is a satellite town for Edinburgh and suddenly it feels like there is a city nearby. From here you follow the Water of Leith walkway which is a lovely way to enter a city and it whisks you into the city along the river. From here we had to take our detour from the official route to head further into the city to resolve the issue with my blisters. When I arrived at  the pharmacy, and the man behind the counter asked if I had any other boots, it seemed as though there was little chance I would be able to walk the remaining four hundred or so miles.

At the doctor’s I was incredibly lucky to meet a paramedic called Leanne who was both encouraging and helpful. Turns out I had sepsis and needed antibiotics alongside a week’s rest. She provided me with all manner of medical supplies for the rest of the journey to prevent this from happening again. She also told me that blister plasters only work if you put them on before a blister forms. I obviously didn’t know this so put them on too late which in fact makes it much worse!

After spending a week in the beautiful city of Edinburgh, we hopped on a train to a town just north of Glasgow called Milngavie (pronounced Milnguy, as we found out after a few nonplussed looks). My foot has recovered and now I am armed with protection in case another blister forms. It was a nasty experience as it made clear how far away we were from help if anything went wrong. Luckily, it only reinforced our desire to be out in the wilderness and to camp in the beautiful Scottish landscapes. Milngavie is a town with very little to it in the way of sights but for us it was crucial. It is the beginning of the West Highland Way which we would follow to the town of Drymen before joining the Rob Roy Way in the village of Drymen.

As soon as you are north of Glasgow the landscape begins to change dramatically. Heavily forested hill tops surround us and the trees are cloaked in thick moss. Wood anemones and bluebells form banks of colour underneath these dense trees. We arrived at the Clachan Inn, Scotland’s oldest pub, for a couple of local ales and some crisps. A true athlete’s lunch. It is a lovely old pub with a big fireplace and thick stone walls. As there was a glimmer of sunshine we sat in the garden which was well looked after. This pub sits beside the Rob Roy Way and is highly symbolic as the first licensee was Rob’s sister. Rob Roy MacGregor is a Scottish folk hero who was an outlaw in these parts during the 17th and 18th century. He was involved in the Jacobite Rebellion and the ensuing battles with the British which ultimately ended in failure. After this tumultuous period, he was involved in cattle raiding and a personal feud with a local Duke. In this lovely garden, we got a little bit tipsy and forgot to fill up our water as we were laughing at our own jokes. An easy mistake to make when a combination of charming surroundings, weary limbs and alcohol conspire to lull you into a sense of complacency.

That evening we camped close to a trickling stream under the cover of some Douglas Firs as the rain hammered down. The first few nights I was a little bit concerned that our tent would start leaking but after it survived with water pooling in some areas and everything remained dry it was easier to relax. In fact, we actually came to love it when it would rain whilst we were in the tent as it meant all of our belongings were dry. We got very lucky with this and often the only rain of the day would be first thing in the morning whilst we were tucked up in our sleeping bags. Our meals were very basic at this stage as we mainly ate beans and rice for dinner with a big bowl of porridge for breakfast. I actually love porridge so this was no problem for me but red kidney beans became my enemy.

Being outside all day and slowly walking through a landscape is an amazing way to see a place. In the past I have travelled by train, van and car but every time you arrive somewhere to see one place and then shoot off to the next. Slow travel is a totally different experience. Hiking every step is something not everybody has the time for but I would highly recommend every different hiking trail we walked in Scotland. Some are well marked whilst others require some map reading but all provide incredible views and the chance for some peace. The other people you pass on these trails are always very friendly and keen to chat. Often these are older people and in our experience they are usually very funny. Always quick to take the piss out of two English people but never in an unkind way. When we saw someone going in another direction we would invariably discuss the path ahead and let them know what to expect from the way we had come. It is a nice practice where everybody is inclined to help those passing by.

We were making a habit of camping by a river and that night we were serenaded by two cuckoos. They too were migrating north. It was encouraging to hear these summer migrants and even more so when we started to see swallows. We felt very closely bound to nature and her rhythms as we had no choice but to sleep when it got dark and the rising sun got us up every morning. We were cooking on fire and looking increasingly wild. Scotland is a great place for this though as off the tops of hills runs clean water and the wider streams by which we camped provided a place to wash ourselves. This feeling of freedom and self-sufficiency is one I can’t recommend highly enough.

The next day we walked through a valley that had recently been covered in forestry. These had all been clear-felled and what was left behind was a churned up mess of tree stumps and tangled roots. It was an eerie place to walk through. A whole valley with almost no life. The small blocks which hadn’t been cut yet were dark and lifeless too. How we missed the thick forests of rowan, birch and oak from the day before. It is a shame that so much of Scotland is covered in these lifeless blocks. They provide nothing for the ecosystem as very little can survive in the darkness. For us, they provide occasional shelter from rain but we rarely spend much time inside.

Upon reaching Loch Venachar we saw another issue which plagues the Scottish countryside. Rampant Rhododendron. They have strangled the undergrowth and although they may have pretty flowers they provide almost nothing for native species. The view of the loch from our tent is breathtaking though. The tinned Thai Green Curry that we bought from a shop is less so. The following day we stopped in the town of Callander, which sits on the banks of the River Teith. This town is known as the ‘Gateway to the Highlands’. Having just passed the ruined Roman ramparts at Bochastle Farm, it is impossible not to imagine the fear that must have struck those soldiers in this daunting landscape. From our point of view we were looking forward to a lunch of soup and a bacon roll from one of the brilliant Scottish bakeries. A bacon and egg roll from one of these bakeries very rarely fails to hit the spot. After a chilly night our appetite is pretty significant and we also treat ourselves to a couple of Belhaven Bests. Not the tastiest ale but we didn’t come to complain!

We leave this pretty town and continue our journey northwards. Our route takes us onto a large hunting estate. It is entirely deserted but for buzzards wheeling overhead and the occasional Red Deer posing on the ridges above us. There are ruins of former crofts, our first signs of the depopulation of the Scottish Highlands which has been ongoing for the past few centuries. It is a deep shame that this land exists solely to provide rich landowners with something to shoot at. It leaves an uncomfortable atmosphere. The overgrazing that these deer and sheep have caused also leaves this land heavily degraded. There is genuinely not a tree in sight.

It is Will’s birthday today and we have a fairly long walk to do before we will make it to Loch Freuchie where we had planned to camp. Our walk takes us up a misty valley which is increasingly wooded. We spotted our first red squirrel of the trip which was very exciting. As we get higher the mist is very thick and we can’t see more than five metres in front of us. Finding our way gets harder as the route gets boggier and we have to leave the track to keep our feet dry. Out of the fog appear the grouse butts where the hunting class will stand in a few months time and shoot what flies at them.

We make it to camp right on the loch with the shelter of a few trees behind us. Scotland is a wonderful place to camp as the Right to Roam allows us to pitch up in beautiful places without having to worry about somebody shouting at us. It helps us to feel a strong tie to the place and reinforces the fact that we would never leave litter. The fact we could enjoy such places without being surrounded by rubbish makes the experience even better. We sleep soundly as our weary legs need the time to recover. The lapping of the loch is an intensely soothing sound.