A little blog adventure

You would think that a teacher on holiday would have lots of time to post fascinating items and to read others’ equally fascinating posts, but the trouble is that holidays are the times when teachers catch up with their social lives, so that’s part of what I’ve been doing this week. The other parts have been viewing flats with Daughter 2 - who’s considering buying one (very exciting and stressful) - and not doing some (but not enough) housework.

Let me tell you about Tuesday. Tuesday is when I met up with Rachel of Slow Lane Life (http://attica-slowlife.blogspot.com/) in Berwick, which is just over the border between Scotland and England.

As those of you who’ve done this bloggy-meeting business will know, it’s a strange and lovely experience. You start a new friendship but at the same time it’s not so new. You know things about people that their real friends may not know: not necessarily the secrets of their hearts, but what they had for dinner yesterday, the colour of their new cushions or how they feel about their next-door neighbours. And you know they like to read and write – always an indication of a noble and admirable disposition – and are friendly enough to comment on strangers’ blogs.

So I was pretty sure that Rachel would be nice as well as funny and clever (which I knew she was). And she was indeed all of these things. I had suggested that we meet up in Berwick-on-Tweed, which is kind of half-way between Edinburgh, where I live, and Newcastle, where she does. So we both got the train and set off, texting as we went. For the first time in my life I travelled first class, since there was a cheap offer. This was a very splendid and roomy experience, though I demonstrated my actual second-class nature by buying a Times newspaper at the station so that when the girl came round with a free Times for the first class passengers, I was already reading mine. Then I wasn’t quite sure if I could eat the shortbread biscuit provided on the table without being charged for it (I could) or drink the fizzy water as well as the coffee that was brought round (I could). Goodness me: I’m 59 and still looking sideways at other people to see what they’re doing so that I can copy them.

We met at the station and apart from the fact that Rachel, who claims to be 60, looks about 40 (she needs to start selling the secret) we recognised each other immediately from the photos we’d sent and set off round the town. While I’d never set foot in Berwick – only come through it on the train from London – she had actually lived there, so greatly to my advantage, I had a built-in tour guide who told me about her life in terms of various Berwick landmarks. (I also talked. Try stopping me.)

We walked round the tops of the city walls as in the photo above. I assume these were to keep out the marauding English or Scots, depending on which nation owned Berwick at the time – it was much fought over. Then we went for lunch, during which two people – granted they were mother and daughter – came over separately and exclaimed with pleasure at seeing Rachel after all this time. Then we went to a lovely shop selling pretty things, and I started my Christmas shopping. Go me!

Then, and fatally, since we had a little time before our trains, we popped into a second-hand bookshop, which resulted in our buying a few volumes (oh, how I don’t need any more books in my house!) and nearly missing our trains. We had to run (like, as Rachel accurately noted, “women who don’t really run”) with our bags of books banging elegantly against our thighs. My train was then late, so that I could have strolled. But I’m sure the run worked off my broccoli and cheese quiche, don’t you think?

This is a little Berwick street. The shop on the right announces that its proprietors are the "sole makers of the original Berwick Cockles" - little pink and white boiled sweets - but alas, it's now empty. Clearly Rachel left the town and stopped buying Cockles.

This is a house. I was too intent on our conversation to take in its name, but there was a sign nearby with a picture of it in a derelict state, and it's clearly loved now, which is nice.

A somewhat Wizard-of-Ozzie-looking lion guarding the house.

A row of houses. Great for looking into the front rooms (sorry for my nosiness, owners).

I did take other photos but they have Rachel in them and for some reason, though I did warn her I was about to take them, she's looking a bit startled so I won't post them. Take it from me that one of them showed someone's very pretty garden at the foot of the town wall, conveniently on view to the passing blogger.

Hope to see you again soon, Rachel!