Scotland - St. Abbs, Lunch & Leisure

 June 28, 2024

Mark on the brae at St. Abbs Harbour

It was wonderful to lounge in bed together well into the morning as daylight which was filtering into our country cottage in Gorebridge. We were on holiday and we had no schedule to meet, no check-out time to hurry us along, not ques to stand in awaiting designated ticket entrance. It was an intentional life of leisure this Friday morning.

We had no breakfast food in our kitchen and no specific plans for our feeding. I felt open opportunities outside our door, yet I felt no rush to seize those opportunities. I felt relaxed. Once we were both showered and fresh for the day, I suggested that in my opinion it was getting too late for a proper breakfast, so I planned to take a road trip back to the coast and find ourselves a proper brunch. I had an idea that something good could be found in the small harbor town of St. Abbs, a place we had not yet visited. It was a bit further down the road from Siccar Point, the place of our pilgrimage the day before.

This is the kind of touring I find ideal; not setting an agenda, just a general idea of wanting to find and walk about a small coastal hamlet and follow my nose and count on a bit of good fortune in finding a meal and things of interest. It was a free-form day. It was an expectation of a double blessing. It was like having the recess bell ring while on holiday. It was grand!

We drove back along the route of A1107, which had befuddled me and my sense of direction in search of Siccar Point yesterday. Today, it was a different road, I was on good terms with the A1107, I was on a gallivanting adventure with no particular point in mind.  We wound around the coastal turns, the North Sea to our left, the road lined with pines, the sunshining in my eyes, my sweetheart on my left and all was right with the world.

We coasted through farmland and along old stone walls before cutting off into the tiny town of St. Abbs. There are but maybe four streets in town. We parked on the one that was above the harbor. We walked back to The Old School House which was serving lunch.

It is a day in St. Abbs where we slow down, 'stop and smell the roses', before sitting down for lunch.

The Old School House is serving lunch 'til 3 

  

There's a good crowd of older retired people - I am bit disappointed to realize that we fit right in with this crowd of 'older retired people'. I like to think of myself as not that old and certainly my young wife is not retired. No matter the demographics, everyone has got to eat. Let's sit down and get ready to dig in.

My gluten-intolerant wife is pleased to find that she can order a GF (gluten free) burger. "I haven't had a burger in a bun in a long, long while. That is what I'm going to have!" She is positively excited about her lunch order. She adds a chai to go with her burger. Eclectic? Yes, why not. We're in Scotland.

Yes, we are in Scotland, therefore, I will order fish and chips with a side of onion rings. And it comes with canned peas, I guess because we are in Scotland.

Dessert is also to be included - because we are on holiday in Scotland.

Mark shares a cup of tea and his pistachio cheesecake in St. Abbs

I find walking in the British Isles easier than driving in the British Isles. So we take a stroll after lunch and drop down into the harbor below. There is a terrace overlooking the harbor and we pause to take in the serene view before us. 

Beside us is a bronze piece, poignantly sculpted figures of women with babe on hip, children clinging to the hem of their skirts as they hold a hand to their brow, scanning the North Sea searching for boats, and in those boasts, hopes of seeing husbands, fathers and brothers returning to safe harbor. Those men never did. A great storm blew up in 1881, drowning the lives of 181 fishermen, fathers and husbands from the fleets of southeast Scotland. The North Sea which we look upon so pleasantly today is not always so. So tells the memorial beside us.

My wife stands above the North Sea next to a memorial to the surviving families and the 181 men lost 
in a single day in 1881 when the sea took nearly the entirety of Scotland eastern fishing fleet. 

On foot we descent the many wooden steps to the rocky beach and the postage stamp harbor below.

Postage stamp harbor at Saint Abbs, Scotland

We clamber among the jagged conglomerate rocks on St. Abbs'
rough & rocky beach

Sue searches tidepools for marine life

At the base of the stairs, we pick our way among wave worn jagged rocks, taking in the geology and looking for marine creatures biding their time at low tide in the tide pools carved into stone crevices at our feet.

We hop from rock to rock, the sea is placid in sunshine and a light breeze. The day is slow and leisurely and close to perfect.

We hop off our rock perch, passing over periwinkles seashells and limpets washed between rounded cobbles, stepping so as not to twist an ankle. We head for the concrete buttresses that stand as a bulwark against the often raging North Sea that beats against and  batters these sturdy stone standing at the foot of St. Abbs.

 

Hoisting ourselves up rusted iron steps, we mount the top of the concrete jetty and join the gaze of a few others staring out into the small indentation that forms St. Abbs' Harbour. "Did you see the whale?" a young woman asks us.

"No, we just now perched ourselves up here," is my answer. 

"It's right out there, near the that rock at the end of the harbour."

We look for a moment or two, before the dark dorsal fin and then a fluke rose out of the water. "It's a minke whale feeding," we are told by an informed woman affiliated with the marine sanctuary beyond these shores.

A local whale-watcher keeps tabs on a minke whale feeding near shore

We feel fortunate to see a whale. We see jellies floating by and we take the marine scents into our nostrils and along with it, the briny air into our lungs. We take the day's pleasures into our holiday souls.

Alas, it is too late in the day to take in Mackie's Real Dairy Ice Cream into our mouths.

We will return to Gorebridge and try our hand at shopping at the super grocery store chain known as Tesco. We get raspberries & fruit, scones, crumpets and cheese. this will be our light supper and if we pace ourselves, it'll have to do for breakfast in the morning.

Fisherman's gear stowed at St. Abbs' Harbour

As we make the climb back up the hill to our car, we notice the poster heralding  the next exciting event; the competition for a local lassie to be crowned the 80th Eyemouth Herring Queen. I wonder, if when the Herring Queen gets married, does she become an Alewife?

 Just curious about the local customs.