Walking through the wynd ...

 

I met up with Penny after leaving my grip in The Old Grocery - 

I walked through the wynd to Dunfermline House - 

I heard voices from opened windows high above my head - 

After two brimmers of Merlot I was a little tipsy - 

On the way, I passed a small theatre - it reminded me of the Magic Theatre in Steppenwolf - 

I looked for a sign saying entrance not for everybody - 

I thought of how I'd worn dark suits,  when I should have chased the moon - 

14.00

Wednesday 1 July 2015

Melrose

The wall of whisky ...

 

The cappuccino I sipped in Rhymers was worthy of a louche cafe bar in Dalston - 

I half expected a youth with an elaborate beard to bring me my almond pastry - 

We had just arrived in Melrose - 

Thoughts of the walk ahead filled our heads - 

We would follow the path taken by monks carrying the saint's sweet smelling bones - 

In front of me was a wall of malt whiskies -  

I remembered drinking Tobermory with Jay and Richard on the slopes of the Red Cuilins -  

Between sips we'd eaten plum cake, baked by Bridget's sister - 

I thought of Ken, telling me his stories of Africa, pouring bumpers of Laphroaig - 

I sat with my moleskine, reading the labels of the bottles - 

Each one, I thought, should celebrate a pilgrimage - each glass should bring back a memory of a hallowed shrine - 

12.00

Wednesday 1 July 2015

Rhymers

Melrose

The bus from Berwick to Melrose ...

I slept well in the Travelodge - I dreamed I put a yellow feather upon my tongue - 

In the morning I put on Look North weather - 

Penny told me she had been kept awake - boys from the pebble dashed houses had gathered outside the 24 hour MacDonalds - 

They were having a party in the car park Penny said - revving their motor bikes - 

I imagined the pale skinny boys, astride their buzzing Suzukis, drinking buckie - 

We walked to the railway station, to wait for the Perryman Bus - 

A father and son were talking like wily chancers about footballers - 

The dad said he's done well - never gets nutmegged - he'll lift the silverware - 

The bus took us north, over the border - we went through Coldstream and Kelso - 

For a while we drove along the valley of the Tweed - the river ran through bright fields - noble fish moved upstream - high walls enclosed ancestral parks - 

The courtly driver stopped the bus outside a rustic public lavatory - excuse me for a moment ladies and gentlemen he said - 

After Newtown St Boswells, a large gingery baby roared and roared - 

His gentle tattooed mother held him in her arms - his father rocked him in his buggy - 

The baby's doing my head in said a thin woman behind us - she had wild hair and a shrill voice - 

The baby carried on roaring - 

I sat listening to the Scottish accents and the short fierce sentences - 

Galashiels, Dalkeith, Musselburgh I murmured, as though I was remembering the words of a spell - 

Wednesday 1 July 2015

Perrymans Bus

Route 67

Berwick to Melrose 

Berwick twilight ...

We looked over the roof tops of the walled town from Meg's Mount - cruel beaked herring gulls nested amongst salt rimed chimney pots - 

A bridge with many arches spanned the shining river - 

Brave girls rowed skiffs upstream, past a whiteness of swans - 

In the shadow of the White Wall, a bare chested boy walked with his pit bull - 

Noble stone houses faced the selkie haunted sea - 

We saw, far off, two castles on the edge of the land - 

Evening sunlight fell into silent wynds - 

The town hall was like a Hawksmoor church - 

I dined on sea bass and samphire - 

The town was emptied of people - 

Narrow stairs led to a gateway in the walls - 

Our long shadows followed us, dark twins moving over pale stone -

20.00

Tuesday 30 June 2015

Berwick upon Tweed

Maeve's Kitchen, remembering St Cuthbert's Way ...

I sat in the garden of Monkland, reading Raleigh's As you came from the Holy Land - 

Near me, upon the sun drenched lawn, lay Souky the cat, dreaming her silky dreams - 

White jets flew across the sky - 

Gracious plants adorned the garden - a wall was hidden by an arras of ivy - trees cast deep shadows - 

All around me was the vast city - 

I felt a precious hunger for the skyscapes I'd grown to love - 

Jay and Bridget were lunching with Italian cousins - 

I walked the streets of Clapton like a pilgrim - 

I saw shopkeepers with gentle brown eyes - a fountain sparkled in a pond - 

I sat in the courtyard of Maeve's Kitchen - 

Young women were whooping - their bearded boys wore sneakers -

I idled the late afternoon away, remembering the feel of wet sand upon my feet, the excited laughter of my companions - 

17.30

Saturday July 13 2015

Clapton

London

King Toadfish ...

I met Jay at Stoke Newington Common

-

Looking out the window of the bus, I saw street people robed in blankets - 

The pavements teemed with indifferent walkers - 

I was now deep in the evening city - the air was balmy, carrying different languages - 

We drove past a graveyard with cherubs blowing trumpets amidst the lichened stones - 

Within the hour I was dancing - 

Percy's band played joyous guiless music - 

Saxophones poured out golden notes - 

Percy smiled at his musicians like a kindly sage -

Dancing I forgot the terrible bright days ahead - 

My years were like silver ribbons tied in my hair - 

Percy's daughter leapt upon a table - she beckoned Jay to dance - 

Bravo I shouted - bravo - bravo !!!

00.45

Saturday 11 July 2015

Bun&Bar

Harringay

The Ship Room ...

The oval dinner table was set for eight - elegant plates caught the watery light -

A wind up gramophone had a golden horn -

Earlier, I'd seen a tail coat in the East Bedroom - 

A stuffed toy elephant lay upon a withered pillow - 

I'd read a letter written in the castle by Lytton Strachey -

Timid Lutyens he'd written - 

A diva closed her eyes in the Upper Gallery - 

A three masted ship sailed above the guests' tipsy heads - 

14.30

Thursday 9 July 2015

The Ship Room

Lindisfarne Castle

Holy Island