New Brakes, New Attitude, No chance.
The bike had been serviced and we decided to head South in a slightly broken way, for a change!
The idea was simple – let’s get to Kelso and see where we would like to go after that. Today’s route was chosen by Chris’s TomTom told to take the highest, twistiest route possible – if you get the chance to do this in the Borders, all I can say is do it, as you’ll wind up in places like these:
Once we had almost got to Kelso I suggested a wee trip out to Lindisfarne on Holy Island – the spot where the Vikings first landed in Britain, so we headed further East over to the coast.
The route for the day looked a bit like this:
Once we’d gotten across the causeway an onto the island, the two Westernmost dwelling amongst us didn’t want to walk the 400 yards from the car park to the village to see the place.
So we got a look at the tip of the carpark closest to the mainland, and then promptly sodded off.
Uncultured, lazy fucks. On account of them, this is all we got to see:
Anyway, from Lindisfarne we headed through Rothbury (stopping for a cuppa) and on to Otterburn, and then back up the road over the border to Kelso where there were drinks and doughnuts, and weirdly (from Jedburgh) a bunch of Porsche, Ferraris and other lesser men out on the roads (real men only need 2 wheels).
Once we’d got to Kelso, Graham tried to kill John by trying to pelt him with rocks fired from his back tyre, which John reciprocated up the road towards Peebles. Out riding with children, I tell ya.