St Cuthbert’s Way and canals to Glasgow – Scotland

I have now reached Glasgow – 140 miles walk and 7 days from the end of the Pennine way, via Melrose, Peebles and Edinburgh.  People have been getting noticeably friendlier along the canals to Glasgow. Had a chat about long distance walking with some nice lads ‘just out for a smoke and a cycle’, who very politely offered me some of their drugs:

No thanks.
– Are you a policeman?
No, an accountant.
– Aaaah… [nods – clearly a completely understandable alternative explanation for refusing drugs]… You’ll be enjoying Brexit then.

Postscript, January 2021: back in the carefree days of 2016 we couldn’t have imagined what was to come – a world where we would have to talk constantly about Brexit in a way that was both boring and stressful, and a world in which any additional references to Brexit, however lighthearted, would become punishable by death. 

Along the river Tweed to Melrose.

Melrose abbey – start of St Cuthbert’s way (which I’ve just done half of, backwards.)

First view over the top of the Pentland hills to Edinburgh and the sea (a greater moment in real life than this photo has managed to capture)

I’d cleverly timed my arrival to coincide with the Edinburgh Festival.  I’d soon be into suburbs with nowhere to camp and with every hotel/pub booked up.  I ended up staying in a sort of sex & party themed youth hostel for under £10 a night, in the middle of Edinburgh.  The rooms and individual beds had thematic names – like orgasm and coitus – and the walls had pornographic (debatably anyway) graffiti.  When I booked I had to sign a sort of ethos statement to say I was the sort of person who would stay up all night partying (I lied).  When I got to my room – at 9pm on a Friday night – I was disappointed to find everyone had already gone to bed, except for one guy who was staying up to fill in some forms.  They all got up at 7am to go to work.  Clearly everyone was willing to lie about their ethos for £10 a night.  

Along the canals from Edinburgh to Glasgow. One of the two exciting bits on these canals – the 630m long Falkirk tunnel.

The John Muir Way diverts around this tunnel for fear of damaging its soft participants.  It’s slightly painful that the ‘Father of [US] National parks’ (and, perhaps, at least a bit, the UK national parks) and famous advocate of the preservation of wilderness, has had his name taken by the least wild and most suburban trail in Scotland: the John Muir Way.  The John Muir Trail is embarrassed for us.

The other exciting bit of the canals – the Falkirk wheel. The Union canal meets the Forth and Clyde canal which is 25 metres lower – this wheel rotates a section of canal (water, boat and all) from one to the other.

Spent most of my time here worrying about their business model: the gents had a luxury hand moisturiser dispenser. 

Glasgow – the end.

Actually, this was from some way back on the canals, but the final bit along a river into Glasgow was really gross and I took no photos.  As I went up some rotting wooden steps to get over a road, they broke under me and I hurt my ankle.  Or, anyway, that was my excuse for limping to the Milngavie Premier Inn and taking a day off to watch tv and eat crisps. (These moments are what long distance walking is all about – you will never get so much enjoyment from being allowed to stay still and watch TV, especially as it is absolutely essential to eat as much high calorie food as possible.)