Damian’s off again – on the train back to London, so I have an afternoon and morning to complete some short walks around Berwick.

We say goodbye next to the old Berwick Bridge, where an information board tells me a little about the artist LS Lowry and his connection to the town. He was very fond of Berwick and a regular visitor from the 30’s up until his death in 1976. My old grammar school had a couple of his paintings – I must have walked past them thousands of times without really registering anything more profound than “oh, a bunch of matchstick figures.”

I turn left and walk alongside the town walls past a row of attractive stone and brick houses.

Docklands on the opposite bank of the river.

Gaps in the town walls called crenels were used for defensive purposes – they were much needed since Berwick was attacked and changed hands at least 13 to 14 times, between England and Scotland, before it became permanently English in 1482.

I reach “Coxons Tower” …………named after the engineer who in the 18th century oversaw the construction and modifications of the original medieval tower. Superior defences than those built in the Elizabethan era were needed against any further naval attack. The English had finally succeeded in wrenching the town out of the hands of the Scots and were determined to keep it that way.

I follow the ramparts, stepping up onto the tall bench for a quick peek over the estuary.

Behind me, stands a beautiful Georgian house – Google tells me it goes by the name of the The Old Whaling House – presumably a reference to Berwick’s involvement in the whaling industry.

Before long the ramparts end and I arrive at the foot of the stone pier, which leads out to the lighthouse at the mouth of the Tweed. It’s an easy walk along the pier but the lighthouse is not open to the public and I can smell rain.

Instead I head north along the public footpath, past a coastguard station, skirting a golf course on my left.

Approaching a holiday centre I am pleased to find public toilets, albeit with no lock on the door and very smelly. Opening the door I am witness to an unsettling scene of a young girl screaming her head off about not wanting to use the toilets because they stink – I’m with her on that but at my age it’s nice to have a seat. After a minute or so her young father loses patience and pushes her with unnecessary force though the door – thus sparking off a fresh bout of anguish. The mother looks on worriedly but does not intervene. And I’m thinking – “Why not find a bush?” the child was no more than six – but then I have to watch myself being critical of the way other people bring up their children – but that push nearly sent her flying. Oh well…………

The path now takes me past a row of static caravans with a view over Fishermans Haven – not the finest, but probably a few rock pools for the kids.

On I walk along the tops of the cliffs – spectacular caves in the sandstone appear.

Bursts of pink clover and purple vetch line the path.

And then I reach the railway line which is where I’m stopping for today. – Needles Eye. The OS map shows a clear footpath over the rails, over a stile and through fields back to the main road.

But what I’m faced with is not quite as obvious.

Climbing over the stile I fail to see any trace of a path so I make my own. Tramping through the middle of the waist high corn field it is not until I am three quarters of the way across, that I begin to see a narrow path at the edge of the field. This then leads me to a thicket of hawthorn bushes, up a muddy slope and out onto the busy A1.

This was my rather ungainly exit…………..Needles Eye seems appropriate..

Well, at least it’s not raining…………………..

From here I turn off the main road as soon as possible and make my way through industrial estates back to my Travelodge. Tomorrow I will need to climb back through this Alice in Wonderland hole in the hedge to continue up to the Scottish border.

Distance: 6 miles