We had a grand walk, the weather not nearly as bad as forecast which is not to say it was good. We went to Peebles and walked upstream along the Tweed for a while, following an itinerary our niece had downloaded from the internet. The landmarks described therein revealed themselves every half-mile or so, like a child’s game. Best was Neidpath Castle, a third ruin, two-thirds inhabited castle, looming above us. We didn't see the ghost.

The first half was easy, as the path ran along the river-side. We could see that the opposite bank was steep and wooded. After we had crossed the river, and a tributary, sure enough, we ascended briskly, aged parties puffing somewhat. Then a path descended through the woods which were, alas, criss-crossed with paths. But just at the point where we realised from the contours of the land that we must be walking upstream again, we met some people we had passed earlier, who put us right.

On some walks one simply has to walk out for a while, and then turn around. That is much less interesting, of course, but it also misses out that glorious moment at the end of a circular walk when one is beginning to feel that another half-mile would really be rather difficult and one or the other says, Look! There’s the car park!

We were too damp and muddy (I fell twice) to appear in public so went back to Morningside for bread and soup. A glorious day.

And in the evening, I made some progress with the current socks. I think I’ll knit our niece a pair next.

Sunday presses.