A Walk from London to John O'Groat's: With Notes by the WayBurritt, Elihu
History
A Walk from London to John O'Groat's: With Notes by the Way
Burritt, Elihu
Agriculture -- Great Britain; England -- Description and travel
I reached Galashiels about 5 p.m., and stopped an hour for tea.
This is a vigorous and thrifty town, that makes a profitable and
useful business of the manufacture of tweeds, tartans and shawls.
It is situated on the banks of the Gala, a little, rapid, shallow
river that joins the Tweed about a mile below. After tea I resumed
my walk, but owing to the confused direction of the landlady, took
the wrong side of the river, and diverged westward toward Peebles.
I had made three miles or more in this direction before I found out
my mistake, so was obliged to return to Galashiels, where I
concluded to spend the night, after another involuntary excursion
more unsatisfactory than my walk around Sheffield, inasmuch as I had
to travel over the same road twice for the whole distance. Thus the
three mistakes thus far made have cost me twenty miles of extra
footing. The next morning I set out in good season, determined to
reach Edinburgh, if possible, by night.
Followed the Gala Water, as it is called here, just as if it were a
placid lake or land-locked bay, though it is a tortuous and swift-
running stream. The scenery was still picturesque, in some places
very grand and romantic. There was one great amphitheatre just
before reaching the village of Stow which was peculiarly
interesting. It was a great bowl full of earth's glory up to the
very rim. The circular wall was embossed with the best patterns and
colors of vegetation. The hills of every tournure showed each in a
fir setting, looking, with their sloping fields of grain, like
inverted goblets of gold vined with emerald leafwork. In the valley
a reaping machine was at work with its peculiar chatter and clatter,
and men and women were following in its wake, gathering up and
binding the grain as it fell and clearing the way for the next
round. Up and down these hills frequently runs a stripe of Scotch
firs or larches a few rods wide; here and there they resemble those
geometrical figures often seen in gardens and pleasure grounds. The
sun peeping out of the clouds, and flooding these features with a
sudden, transient river of light, gives them a glow and glory that
would delight the artist. After a long walk through such scenery, I
reached, late in the evening, Auld Reekie, a favorite home-name
which the modern Athenians love to give to Edinburgh. Being anxious
to push on and complete my journey as soon as practicable, I only
remained in the celebrated Scotch metropolis one night, taking staff
early next morning, and holding northward towards the Highlands.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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