Bamborough

On the way we stopped at Spital beach, just south of Berwick on Tweed, Charlie played penny slot games, how long I thought, would they still be here, legacy of our people, here where they rested, and had fun, all but a bygone memory, as an apparition of ghosts, sidestepped, broken departed. Dismayed at a machine, my two pence had jammed, failing to land onto the moving shelf.

I don't gamble, I cannot remember gambling ever in my life.

Pre-WW2 promenaded shelter.

Driftwood washed in.

We intentionally avoided a tourist visit to Bamborough castle, instead opting to walk along part of the beach, named the Tumblers, a mile further south along the link road. We desired a strong wind without rain, and that's what we found here, but abrasiveness from sand blowing harshness upon my face was, as a discomfort, unsettling upon my eyes.

Through the sand dunes an opening revealed a choppy sea, beyond the shoreline, a outcrop of rocks, failing to grasp reach a lighthouse. I took some photographs, so did Charlie.

Returning North we deviated from the A1, choosing to go through Wooler and towards Yetholm. Hungry Charlie pulled over the 4x4 alongside the river Till and from the boot of the car, camp stove reheated a pan of Cullen Skink I'd previously cooked yesterday evening. By this time events around us were becoming strange, beginning with a slow drive by black car passing us at least six times. I couldn't help but wonder if this was due to the "strangers" esoteric interest in the cone pillar, stone bridge we had just driven over.

This soup had added Salmon, but no smoked haddock, does this still count as Cullen skink? maybe not but tasted delicious anyhow.

Wasn't expecting a hot cup of coffee from Charlie.

Leaving the area we noticed we had stopped to rest along Saint Cuthberts way. Called into Yetholm at the Plough Inn, Charlie enjoyed bitter, myself Guinness with Dalmore chaser. The pub, as other places open to the public, seemed OK, but then turned sour, playing a "stranger" musical encore of Toto "Africa" and ELO "Mr Blue Sky"; this happens over and over again at different locations, this has been an unwanted regular occurrence for years.

Big storm blowing throughout the Scottish Borders, wind and rain is rushing about walls, tearing across field, the Borthwick water below has burst banks. About eight inch deep for 1/6 of a mile, but thankfully could not lift our 4x4 from the direction.

I posted a short reel on Facebook, readers were shocked, I don't know anywhere else that experiences this; although throughout the valley there are houses along the haugh, beside winding bends that could be in danger, if flooding as a release had not happened here.