“Oft had he viewed, as morning rose, the bosom of the lonely Lowes”. So began the Borders poet James Hogg when writing of the Loch of the Lowes in his poem The Queen’s Wake. The busy road passing by may have rendered it significantly less lonely than in Hogg’s day, but a short walk into the Ettrick hills provides an opportunity to capture the sense of solitude of a bygone age.Continue reading “Loch of the Lowes and Riskinhope”
Deep in a glen in the Manor Hills lies tranquil Loch Eddy. Once a retreat for the upper echelons of society, it makes for a lovely short walk full of natural splendour.
A stone’s throw from industrial Tyneside, I hadn’t expected to find such a scenic walk so close to the city – nor, as it happens, to follow in the footsteps of so many railway pioneers.
A peaceful walk around a nature reserve and surrounding countryside. Perfect for a Sunday afternoon.
The moors of north Northumberland may lack the picturesque fame of their Yorkshire cousins, but a little effort reveals a fine walk through history, from prehistoric cairns and Iron Age fortresses, to a medieval tower and a 19th century farmhouse. Though there are no steep climbs, the pervasive thick heather across the open moorland makes progress slow and much of the route can be difficult to discern at times.
A cairn built by the devil, two brothers on a hilltop, and a gamekeeper’s treasure are but some of the sights on this walk in the Lammermuirs.
I ventured into the land of the dwarves for a walk around the hills of Simonside. Rocks, trees and moorland galore!
Eagles scream from isle to shore;
Down all the rocks the torrents roar;
O’er the black waves incessant driven,
Dark mists infect the summer heaven.
Through the rude barriers of the lake,
Away it’s hurrying waters break,
Faster and whiter dash and curl,
Till down yon dark abyss they hurl.
The eagles may be gone now, but Sir Walter Scott’s poem still captures the dramatic beauty of his “Loch-skene”. This weekend I decided to pay it a visit.
In search of a nice walk for a Sunday afternoon, I decided to visit the Minch Moor, once traversed by medieval monks, Highland drovers, and the armies of Edward I.