First I returned to St Cuthbert's Way along the same path on which I arrived two days earlier, lined by trees and lush with vegetation. On the hill in the distance, looking like a rocket, was a monument built to mark success at the battle of Waterloo. Joining St Cuthbert's Way I admired the dog roses, soon reaching a path beside a river. Crossing by a wobbly suspension bridge the path then wound around some estate where the public was not wanted. The café at Harestanes Visitor Centre was cited in a guide book so I made a short diversion to reach it. Worth it for the latte and blueberry waffle sold by a lady who asked after my journey. Still not sure what it was a visitor centre for. There was a craft centre, children's play area, walks among the trees and lots of families on a Sunday outing. There were also plenty of people on St Cuthbert's Way.
A long section of Dere street followed. An old Roman road, its straight line is still being followed almost two thousand years after it was created. A tribute to the surveyors and soldiers who built it. My route then followed wide, lazy curves of the River Tweed. Although Melrose was not so far away, following the meanders added many kilometres, and extra time. A further delay was added by a much appreciated lunch in a bookshop café in St Boswells.
After a further meander, and resisting a third stop for refreshments, I walked along a section of road leading to the final challenge of the day, a climb over the Eildon hills. The path up the hills was through trees, as was much of today's walk. On achieving the saddle between two peaks, Melrose came into view, and soon I was checking into the Station Hotel. For much of today the path wound through trees of beech and oak, the wild garlic was dying back but there was plenty of other green growth from ferns and the like. Rhododendrons in flower added colour at one place. By the river, among rhubarb like gunnera, my PlantNet App identified the purple flowers of Comfrey. A heron stood immobile on the other side of the water.
Two manmade structures attracted my attention, both related to water. One was the remains of a pump house, where a circling mule or donkey pumped water up from a spring by the river to Benrig house. The other was an octagonal, pepperpot structure to which water was piped from a spring higher up the hillside to provide clean water for the village of Bowden. After dinner, I explored Melrose. Like Jedburgh it has a ruined abbey as well as an attractive high street of small shops, cafés and hotels.
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