The Only Way is (South) Essex

I’m an Essex girl. South Essex to be precise. Born in Billericay, brought up in Brentwood. The part of the county that gets overlooked when visitors head north to East Anglia and east to the coast. But which was made famous in the 80s by journalists like Peregrine Worsthorne inventing the notion of Essex man and Essex girl and later notorious by shows like TOWIE. Long after Ian Dury put Billericay on the map but before Gavin met Stacey, a horticultural and ecological revolution was brewing on a hillside a few miles south in Horndon on the Hill. During my school years Horndon was just the ultimate destination of the 265 bus I caught home from school, that is on the afternoons when I hadn’t spent my bus fare on penny chews and walked home! To this Tolkien reading teen it was a place name that wouldn’t have been out of place on a map of Middle Earth. But it was nine miles from our house and I had no reason to go there.

Until last Thursday! When I joined a group from the Garden Media Guild to meet the leader of said revolution, John Little. At Hilldrop, his four acre garden which slopes gently southwards towards the container port lined landscape of the River Thames, a few miles to the south, he has created a wildlife filled space which embodies his philosophy that the more complicated the landscape the greater the biodiversity. And that those complications can be manmade and achieved in a handful of years. Gardeners and landscapers can mimic nature by making considered interventions. The date of the visit couldn’t have been more timely. Several days into the fourth heatwave of the summer and with the thermometer in the car reading 28°C, Hilldrop is the kind of garden that works in our changing climate. Teeming with wildlife and chest high with native wildflowers, it’s the perfect advertisement for John’s message of resilience to drought rather than reliance on an ever diminishing supply of water. In fact, on the day of my visit Thames Water had joined several other water companies in imposing a hosepipe ban.

Now in his early 60s, John grew up a few miles away and remembers playing in the post industrial sites in this part of Essex. His family owned a chain of shoe shops with branches in Gravesend and Brentwood. He bought Hilltop about 35 years ago. It was part of a ‘plotlands‘ site and comprised four plots and one tiny bungalow. From here and a site in Barkingside he operates the Grass Roof Company, his green roof and landscaping business as well as running workshops to ‘equip the modern gardener with the skills to design sustainable green spaces for a changing world’. His company maintains the grounds of the Clapton Park Estate in east London, and it’s his experience there of listening to the residents and what they want from the open spaces around their homes that has informed his ‘Care not Capital’ campaign. He trains gardeners to go into community gardens and share the skills they have learned to make ‘sustainable green spaces for a changing world’. His lightbulb moment was meeting Zainab, a Kurdish woman who wanted somewhere to grow the vegetables she used in the traditional dishes which she shared with other residents of the estate.

John’s answer to the challenge of gardening on heavy clay 20 years ago was to cover it with a mixture of topsoil and recycled builders’ rubble and direct sow wildflower mixes onto it. At this time of year wild carrot, fennel, teasels and knapweed abound. As do the red admiral, painted lady and gatekeeper butterflies attracted to their flowers. One of our party asked about an unfamiliar white flowered teasel growing alongside the more familiar violet flowered species. John identified it as the European cut leaf teasel. He explained that the so-called native wildflower seed mixes available when he first made the garden sometimes included non-native species. The challenge now is to counteract the encroachment of scrub and trees such as oak which favour the open sunny site.

John works closely with an entomologist, a PhD student, to record the invertebrates at Hilldrop where 1500 species have been found, at a remarkable concentration of 375 species per acre. Realising that on the heavy clay of the garden he was unlikely to attract ground nesting bees, he has introduced several piles of builders’ sand and sure enough the insects have moved in including the bee wolf and spiny digger wasp. More invertebrates means more birds, such as insect eaters like warblers.

Sand is also used in the large containers which stand on the verandah of one of the two houses built on the site. They have been filled with sand topped with one inch of garden compost, the plants germinating from the seeds in the compost. John then weeds out those plants he doesn’t want! And saves a fortune on bought in potting compost.

As gardeners we already disrupt the ground by planting a tree, creating a pond, planting for pollinators, installing compost bins. At every turn in this garden there are examples of more interventions which change the topography of the garden and make it such a biodiversity hotspot. Using all manner of recycled material: sand, dead wood, metal grids, crushed aggregates. Even shipping containers. This is Open Mosaic Habitat (OMH) translated into a garden setting. It’s no coincidence that over a fifth of the country’s Special Sites of Scientific Interest (SSSI) are in post industrial sites. A short distance from Hilldrop, a former oil refinery in Canvey Wick is now a nature reserve where 2000 invertebrate species have been identified.

A small wooden cabin with a green grass-covered roof, surrounded by trees and wildflowers. The cabin features a welcoming porch with a chair, potted plants, and a sign that reads 'SOLITARY'.
Green roofed studio made from a recycled shipping container
A small green plant with broad leaves emerging from the soil, marked by an orange flag, surrounded by dry grass and vegetation.

A few of the invertebrates found in the garden have very specific host plants. For example, the bryony bee which feeds on white bryony (Bryonia dioica) growing near the house and one particular solitary bee which feeds solely on the small number of red bartsia (Odontites verna) plants in the garden. Anthills in one area have been marked with small flags to protect them during the programme of cutting back the garden over winter. Cutting back is done in sections rather than all at once, so as to minimise disturbance to the invertebrates.

A circular compost bin made of metal wire, filled with plant debris and surrounded by greenery and small yellow flowers.

Several large round compost bins are located throughout the site. Constructed from standard weld mesh clipped together, they are used constantly to deposit dead material from the garden and save having to barrow it to one dedicated compost bin area. But more importantly they create yet more habitat for animals. I imagine that hibernating toads might find them a cosy place to over-winter.

A number of different materials have been used for the paths throughout the garden. As well as crushed granite over recycled aggregate from which the main routes have been fashioned, there are narrower walkways and steps made from metal grating. Here’s another opportunity to increase habitat and attract pollinators, by placing them over sand for bees or planting them with scented thyme.

I was intrigued by a large cockle shell mound to one side of the path. John was offered the material by a local Thames Estuary cockle fishery and is experimenting by planting sea kale which has welcomed the salty residue in the shells.

A red cylindrical object attached to a tree trunk, surrounded by lush green foliage under a clear blue sky.

If you don’t have a hollow tree on site to create an environment in which overfly larvae thrive, John’s response is to make one with a plastic pipe attached to the trunk of a dying hornbeam. Dead wood features throughout the garden in various forms. In one place beetle activity has displaced the bark of a dying tree and the beetles are now working into the smooth wood beneath. He reminded us of the importance of topping up logpiles. When I got home I checked on the small pile I introduced three years ago to one side of the garden and found it had rotted down almost to ground level.

At the foot of the hill, to one side of the drive to the house, is a large wildlife pond. Never let it be said that Essex natives don’t have a sense of humour: neatly tucked into the unmistakeable structure of a metal shopping trolley at the water’s edge is a moorhen nest! Like most ponds this summer the water level has dropped considerably. Driving past at the end of the visit I noticed a pair of mallards swimming on the pond.

The last place I expected to see a dry stone wall this summer was in south Essex! I’ve been lucky enough to admire them in very different landscapes over the last three months in the Borders, Northumberland, North Yorkshire and Somerset. Hilldrop’s version uses Essex demolition waste instead of the local stone available in other parts of the country. The spectacular wall cost £40 in materials and £1400 for the expertise of a skilled stone waller! Next year John plans to bring in local bricklayers to learn the drystone walling technique. He also showed us a quicker version where he had filled a gabion with demolition waste. John is also experimenting with using cob as a building material and recently held a workshop on the subject. A cob column topped with an old fire pit stands near the house and it’s hoped that it might eventually provide a habitat for solitary bees.

John’s wife Fiona’s section of the garden is a little more conventional than the wider garden: including a poly tunnel containing very healthy looking tomato plants. But John’s influence is clear with a series of elegantly shaped raised beds fashioned from disused grain silo panels. The plant choice here is wider than the wildflowers growing throughout the wider garden, but all appear to have been chosen for their drought resilience.

A vibrant meadow filled with wildflowers and greenery, featuring various plants and a backdrop of trees and a brick building under a blue sky with fluffy clouds.

Hornets have nested in a hole in the trunk of a willow tree in this part of the garden and could be seen flying in and out. The tree also hosts woodpeckers and starlings.

A close-up of a hornet emerging from a round hole in a tree bark, with wood shavings visible around the entrance.

Beside the drive is a grass roof covered shelter faced with mini gabions filled with a variety of potential habitat materials: long hollow canes, squat log lengths drilled with holes. Resin bees have moved in and demonstrated their intriguing practice of stopping up the nesting holes with plugs of resin harvested from nearby trees.

We need ‘disrupters’ to shake up the received wisdom about many aspects of modern life and John Little is doing just that in the world of horticulture where we cannot sustainably carry on gardening in the same way that our parents and grandparents did, without further damaging an already debased environment.

Kew Gardens. 2 August 2026

St Cuthbert’s Way

2 to 10 May 2026


It’s a month since I returned from making a pilgrimage with my friend Lynn and a group of women from St Paul’s church in Northfields, walking St Cuthbert’s Way (SCW) from the Scottish Borders to Holy Island in Northumberland. In May last year I walked the last three stages of the West Highland Way. I recorded my impressions of that walk in a blog post which amounted to a transcript of my log of the trip. And what follows is an edited version of the notes I made each evening of this year’s long distance walk. The spiritual aspect of the pilgrimage and prayerful approach of my companions were deeply meaningful to me. But in this account of the week I’m concentrating on the physical landscape we traversed and the plants encountered en route.

A map overview of St Cuthbert's Way, showing the entire route from Melrose to Holy Island, with marked towns and GPS compatibility. It includes a layout of map panels with a key for navigation.

2 May 2026. London to Melrose. The Town House Hotel.

King’s Cross St Pancras to Edinburgh and local train to Tweedbank. Rail replacement between York and Doncaster. All connections worked perfectly. Group very welcoming and inclusive. Tantalising glimpse of Holy Island from the train after passing through Alnmouth north of Newcastle. We were met at Tweedbank by Peter, husband of Ann, one of the walkers. Peter has kindly agreed to act as luggage transfer for the week. Peter drove us the couple of miles to Melrose in his red Citroen Berlingo, with some of the party hopping onto a local bus. A few days ago I dropped off my case with Lynn in Ealing for Peter to collect and drive up to Scotland. It was very freeing to travel without the encumbrance of a (relatively) heavy piece of luggage. Saying that, I did bring a yoga bag containing my walking poles and boots!

Before supper we walked through the town to Melrose Abbey for our first glimpse of the Eildon Hills which we shall cross tomorrow. Swallows and house martins in abundance around the C12 Cistercian *abbey. It was about 6pm and the abbey, maintained by Historic Scotland, was closed. But we wandered back through part of the Harmony Garden, a National Trust for Scotland property, with pristine beds prepared for planting and a range of glasshouses (one containing a selection of tender succulents). Four heritage apples in half barrels stood outside the glasshouses, the stamped metal label on one reading ‘Tam Montgomery’, which according to Scottish Heritage Fruit Trees fruits in early July ‘with pale skin and characteristic lemon taste’. There were good views across the garden to the abbey and the Eildon Hills beyond. The blossom was still on a cherry tree in the garden, falling in pastel drifts around the foot of the tree. Clearly the season is several weeks behind the south east. I spotted primroses on the railway embankment on the northernmost leg of our journey this afternoon.

3 May. Melrose to Harestanes. The Royal Hotel, Jedburgh. 15 miles.

Day 1 of the pilgrimage. Drizzle. Prayers outside the hotel. This is the pattern we’ll follow all week: morning prayers before setting off, prayers after lunch and evening prayers after supper. It has been agreed that we walk in silence for the first two hours each day. For private prayer, reflection and contemplation of the peaceful surroundings. Drizzle and mist. A steep walk onto the Eildon (pronounced Iledon) Hills. Acidic yellow gorse at head height and higher on each side of the track. Birdsong at close range. The soil on the path was a deep red, presumably reflecting the sandstone of the local geology: several buildings in Melrose were clearly built of sandstone. ‘Blaeberries’ growing path side. Descent into Eildon Woods: dense temperate rainforest. Beech predominant. Ferns and mosses. Emerged onto pasture land grazed by brown sheep. Down to the village of Bowden where we read about the octagonal ‘pant well’, a public water fountain built in 1861 which brought clean water to the community.

We followed tributary of River Tweed (Bowden Burn) to St Boswells, where Peter met us loaded with hot coffee and snacks! Through the village and down to the clubhouse of St Boswells Golf Course, and along the path beside the course which is located on the banks of the Tweed. Beyond the golf course stands the Mertoun Bridge, and once past it there was a steep scramble down to the water’s edge with a view back to the bridge. We stopped for lunch a little further along, on a rocky beach near a weir, and spotted several fly fishermen waist deep in the river. And martins and swallows skimming close to the water. The Tweed is a salmon river, though it’s in the autumn when salmon make their way upriver to spawn. The river meanders into an almost S shape here, with woods to one side of the path and rocky ‘coves’ along the water’s edge. I saw a dipper on the rocks of one such inlet below me. It had nest material in its beak. Striking to see mature elm trees in the woods: the flowers having developed into clusters of very light green winged fruits containing seeds, which will be dispersed by the wind when they dry into papery ‘samaras’ later in the season. We so rarely see elms in the south east.

A rocky riverbank covered with moss and small plants, with clear water flowing over the stones.
Zoom in for dipper!

Emerging from the wood we reached Maxton Church, dedicated to St Cuthbert. The way led away from the river and looking back we could see the church with the distinctive pair of rounded hills of the Eildons beyond. The way finding is really clear on the route. There are regular wooden way marks with the square St Cuthbert’s Cross symbol reassuring us that we are on track. A little further along the path we joined ‘Dere Street’, a Roman road where the waymark becomes a Roman helmet. Dere Street originally ran from York to near Edinburgh. We passed the site of the 1545 Battle of Ancrum between the Scots and the English. And in the distance spotted a monument on a hilltop commemorating the battle of Waterloo. About a mile from our destination we entered woods again, part of the Monteviot estate. And here we were met by Peter and a local taxi for the couple of miles drive into Jedburgh. Sprawling small town with low-lying commercial estate on the road into centre with a Scottish Woollen Mills.

Plants seen today:

  • Wych elm. Ulmus glabra
  • Few-flowered garlic. Allium paradoxum
  • Cuckoo flower. Cardamine pratensis
  • Crosswort. Cruciata laevipes
  • Vetch. Vicia sativa
  • Bluebells (or harebells as we’re in Scotland!) Hyacinthoides non-scripta
  • Blaeberry Vaccinium myrtillus

4 May. Harestanes to Morebattle. Templehall Inn. 11 miles.

Day 2 of the pilgrimage. Sunny most of the day, just a bit cloudy in the morning. Taxi back to Harestanes and way continued through Monteviot estate, crossing the drive. View of the turreted house built in 1840. It resembles a Loire chateau. I read that the architect Edward Blore also worked on Buckingham Palace. Walked through woodland in silence. Bliss. Birdsong, boots crunching, walking poles tapping, plashing water. The woodland led to water’s edge and a spectacular suspension footbridge. Built in 1999 when its predecessor was swept away in severe floods. Jarring sounds of gunshot in near distance: gamekeepers on the estate? On opposite bank of the River Teviot the landscape opened out to fields, SCW continuing along a riverside path until it joins Jed Water. Another belt of broadleaf woodland, with views at the woods’ edge back to the Eildon Hills and the Waterloo Monument: a pillar topped by a flame. Rested my hands against trunks of some massive lime trees: leaves still moist looking and vibrantly green. Beatrix Potter characters painted onto the trunks of some trees, including the fox, Mr Tod. Across more open land, back on Dere Street I believe. At path side saw banks of greater stitchwort (Stellaria holostea) and crosswort (Cruciata laevipes). In the latter the leaves are arranged in a cross-like formation.

We ate lunch in a clearing in the woods sitting on felled logs. Ferns at our feet. Afterwards we could see the foothills of the Cheviots which we’ll reach tomorrow. The way led on to Cessford Castle, ruined seat of the Kers, a prominent family involved in raiding parties across the border into England in the C16 and early C17, the time of the ‘reivers’.

We walked in the sunshine downhill into Morebattle, to the Templehall Inn.

5 May. Morebattle to Kirk Yetholm. The Border Hotel. 7 miles.

Day 3 of the pilgrimage. Drizzle, about 7-9°. This was the big one. The day we tackled Wideopen Hill. For about a mile after leaving Morebattle we walked along the road, past a small enclosure with two wild goats. Extraordinary curled horns. The road followed a river, Kale Water, for a stretch. We reached a ford where two brave members of the party paddled! Shortly afterwards we crossed the river on a footbridge and almost immediately afterwards began to climb towards the summit of Wideopen Hill. Deceptively steep. Walking on sheep grazed short grass with a dry stone wall on our left hand side. Glancing back: the Waterloo Monument again and the Eildons. The summit of Wideopen Hill is 368m above sea level and the highest point on St Cuthbert’s Way. We ate lunch in the shelter of a dry stone wall watching a pair of ponies, one roan the other white, on a distant hillside. Tuned in to the almost constant song of skylarks. 360° view of a rolling landscape of overlapping hillsides, a shining and meandering river to the east, Bowmont Water. Crossing the wall via a ladder stile we were met by the full force of the wind and very cold rain which had started to fall. Donned raincape. My hands immediately felt frozen and painful. With help I extracted the half mitts from my rucksack to wear under my gloves, and one of the party gave me a hand warmer which gradually brought my hands back to life. Walked downhill into the wind. Bizarre sight at foot of the hill of a big stony field of brassica stalks being grazed by a flock of sheep.

Sign marking St. Cuthbert's Way at Wideopen Hill, featuring a scenic view of green hills and farmland under a cloudy sky.
Welcome sign for Kirk Yetholm, stating 'Gateway to the Cheviots' with a warning to 'Please drive carefully', surrounded by greenery and a road.

Walked along the road to the outskirts of Yetholm and then the way branched to the right along a muddy track towards Kirk Yetholm and the Border Hotel. Signs marking End of the Pennine Way and Gateway to the Cheviots. At this point we are not far from the border with England. Arrived about 3.30pm. Big bathroom with a bath! Walked to Town Yetholm, to a ‘deli’ for provisions for tomorrow’s picnic, and from Yetholm Bridge saw a white egret on Bowmont Water which divides Kirk Yetholm from Town Yetholm. Fish and chips for supper. We gathered to watch episode 3 of the recent BBC Pilgrimage series which followed a group walking the paths of the Northern saints (St Oswald and St Aidan) and St Cuthbert. In that episode the pilgrims climb Wideopen Hill!

6 May. Kirk Yetholm to Wooler. No.1 Hotel. 15 miles.

Wooden signpost indicating the St Cuthbert's Way trail, with directions to Scotland and England, set against a scenic landscape of hills and blue sky.

Day 4 of the pilgrimage. Crossing the Cheviots. A fine dry day. Two long climbs. Gorse in profusion on lower slopes. Sheep pasture gave way to moorland covered in heather. Saw few other walkers. Then heard a voice way across on other side of the valley. A shepherd and his dog were rounding up a flock of sheep. The sound had carried as if he were in the next field. Reached the Border fence where there are signs: ‘Welcome to England’ and ‘Welcome to Scotland’. Song of skylarks all day. Then saw a skylark on a gate on the moor. Smaller than blackbird. Pale plumage. We disturbed a grouse as we walked along the narrow track through the heather. Stretches of boggy ground between hills. Stopped briefly near picturesque mansion with Arts & Crafts style estate cottages nearby: Hethpool House. Progressed east with several summits visible right and left including distinctive low conical outline of Yeavering Bell, site of Iron Age hill fort. Descended through woods onto a lane with an overgrown garden to the right: large white and purple lilacs overhanging the lane. This opened out into a quiet housing estate, the most inhabited area we’ve seen since Jedburgh. Soon reached Wooler town centre and the hotel. Tiny bedroom. A warm evening. Ate at Italian restaurant. Delicious pea risotto.

7 May. Wooler to Fenwick. The White Swan Inn at Lowick. 12 miles.

Street view featuring a church tower with a clock, surrounded by lush greenery and residential buildings, under a clear blue sky.

Day 5 of the pilgrimage. Sunny and fresh. Pretty walk through town and out over the bridge, past a pristine bowling green. Gentle climb on road until turned onto Weetwood Bank. Good view back to Wooler and the Cheviots beyond. Pheasant’s eye Narcissus. Onto Westwood Moor and for the first time on the trip heard a cuckoo! And again saw a skylark singing on a fence post. It didn’t move even as we walked past and around the corner of the field. To a cairn topped with large rock with hollowed out St Cuthbert’s Cross painted white. Narrow path through a wood with view of Weetwood Bridge over River Till on opposite side of a rather busy road. Crossed to the bridge. Cone topped brick turrets at far side. Interpretation board explained this was the route taken by the English Army on way to Battle of Flodden in 1513. Peter met us here with coffee.

Way continued on minor roads, open country on either side. Passed Doddington Quarry: a working quarry for pink sandstone. We paused for lunch at a crossroads next to former schoolhouse: Hazelrigg, beside a wooden monument to St Cuthbert. Depicts scenes from his life. A dense crowd of swallows and sand martins swooped around us. We walked towards trees on the skyline, St Cuthbert’s Cave Wood. National Trust. The cave is a sandstone overhang. It is said that after Viking raids on the island in 875 AD monks from Lindisfarne fled bearing the body of the saint and sheltered in the cave. The cave is much larger than I expected, and shallower. Surrounded by trees, it is a quiet and peaceful place. The route though the woods to the cave reminded me of the Dark Hedges in County Antrim, huge trees hanging over the path to create a tall and very shaded avenue.

The countryside beyond the cave is flat and open and from a crag next to the wood we saw Holy Island. We walked through a sheep pasture and into Shiellow Wood where red squirrels can be found. Saw a dedicated nesting box but no sign of a squirrel. Chatting, Lynn and I fell behind the group and for about ten minutes thought we were lost, but with some map reading and a couple of the group coming back for us we re-joined the route!

Close-up of purple flowers growing near a rocky surface, surrounded by green foliage and moss.
Common stork’s bill

We followed ancient ‘green road’ along the edge of Kyloe Old Wood** and into Fenwick. Saw a pied wagtail on a lawn in Fenwick. Here the community minibus brought us up the road to Lowick about three miles north. We ate at the hotel: fish and chips again! Much discussion of the route tomorrow to Holy Island. We all want to walk across the sands and weather permitting shall do so barefoot!

Plants seen today:

  • Climbing corydalis. Ceratocapnus claviculata. Growing at side of path in area of felled trees.
  • Common stork’s bill. Erodium cicutarium. On top of a dry stone wall.

8 May. Fenwick to Holy Island. Marygate Retreat House. 6 miles

Day 6 of the pilgrimage. Dry and quite bright. Rain forecast early afternoon.

It’s a couple of miles walk through farmland to the coast. We had to cross the East Coast Main Line en route. Our leader Jacqui used the telephone beside the line to call the signalman for permission to cross when it was safe. She had to call again to confirm we had all crossed safely. When we reached Beal Sands where the walk to the island begins we exchanged boots for beach shoes for the walk to the edge of the sands. Peter took our boots in the car which he drove across the Causeway. We walked a short stretch of road to where the sands began and took off the beach shoes. Jacqui had timed it so that we were crossing during the optimum period at low tide.

The Pilgrim’s Route is marked by a line of poles stretching for 2.3 miles towards dry land with a refuge box in the middle. The ‘seabed’ consists of rippled and compacted sand with pools of seawater remaining in deeper sections. The water was pleasantly warm. About halfway across is a patch of coarse grass and rutted and blackened muddy sand. Hard to walk on. After several minutes of walking, all in silence, I noticed an eerie sound, a melancholy wailing, and realised it was seals on a sandy spit between Lindisfarne and the mainland. That sound accompanied the remainder of the walk. It was easy to imagine the origin of the stories of sailors being lured to treacherous rocks after mistaking the sound for the cries of mermaids. Beyond the seals I could see the outline of Bamburgh Castle further south along the coast. And behind us the hulk of the Cheviots on the horizon. It took about 1 hour 20 minutes to cross. A walking meditation, concentrating on walking from pole to pole, taking care to avoid any sharp edged shells sticking out of the sand or deeper pools of seawater.

We ate our lunch sitting around the bench beside the shore, then walked into town. The rain had started and it set in for the afternoon. Because the accommodation wouldn’t be available before 4pm we explored the parish church of St Mary the Virgin. A modern stained glass window with local images, including seals, an eider duck, the poles, Lindisfarne Castle. At the rear of the church, an extraordinary wooden sculpture of the monks bearing the body of St Cuthbert.

Staying at Marygate House, a retreat house run by the Community of St Aidan and St Hilda. Quite a large room and shared bathrooms. Jolly supper downstairs at 6pm. The rain had stopped and walked down to see the sun setting over the upturned boat sheds.

9 May. On Holy Island.

Very wet morning. 9° feeling like 1° because of windchill. Walked along the curving path to the castle which crowns a craggy promontory. Sea thrift growing along edge of cliffs. Castle ‘modernised’ for Edward Hudson, the publisher of Country Life, by Edwin Lutyens between 1901-1906. Reworked the C16 interior. Brick herringbone floor on the long gallery on first floor. Views north to the walled garden and south to the Farne Islands. Castle is run by the National Trust. Edward Hudson commissioned Gertrude Jekyll to advise upon the planting in the walled garden, the layout of which was designed by Lutyens. The story is that she travelled north by train and was brought by horse and trap as far as was possible before having to be carried to the castle on the back of the housekeeper’s husband. According to the room guide Miss Jekyll disliked the place. Fascinating to see a reproduction of her planting scheme: drawn in her distinctive style of interlinking labelled blobs.

After lunch we explored the garden. About 1 acre and surprisingly sheltered given the windy and rainy conditions. Cordoned apple trees and a central bed prepared with wooden obelisks ready for beans or sweet peas. Plant labels painted onto stones. So simple. Metal silhouette on the wall of Miss Jekyll, based on a sketch by Edwin Lutyens.

The rain had stopped but it was still very windy when we walked across the rocky shore that separates the main island from St Cuthbert’s Island at low tide. A simple wooden cross stands at one end of the ruins of what appears to be a tiny chapel.

A wooden cross in the foreground with a coastal landscape in the background featuring ruins of buildings and greenery under a cloudy sky.

The weather cleared by suppertime so afterwards we walked along the path leading to the spot where we ‘landed’ yesterday after the walk over the sands. It was the ‘golden hour’, the tide had come in and the poles were almost submerged. Hard to imagine that 36 hours earlier we’d walked here barefoot from the mainland, to this ‘thin place’. Watched the sun setting over the distant hills of Northumberland, and over the whole of St Cuthbert’s Way, all the way to Melrose.

Kew Gardens, 16 June 2026

*The monastery where St Cuthbert began his monastic life is believed to have been sited 4km to the east of Melrose on a bend of the River Tweed.

**Kyloe Old Wood: formerly owned by the Leyland family of Haggerston Castle. I’ve since read that some of the original Leylandii cypress stock was raised here in the C19. Hybrid of two North American conifers: Nootka cypress and Monterey cypress. Very sad to think that a cultivar raised in such a peaceful spot should have become the cause of so much cross-boundary aggravation between neighbours.

Three Days in Cloud(less) Cuckoo Land

Featured

In early May I walked the last three stages of the West Highland Way with my dear friend Pat. I kept a brief log of the walk, noting the scenery and the wildflowers seen along the route. What follows is effectively a transcript of my notes. Equipped for all weather and armed against midges, we were incredibly lucky to have the most magnificent weather. It had been dry for some weeks before we arrived and the pesky midges were nowhere to be seen. The soundtrack to our walk was the repeated call of the cuckoo. Not just one call in the distance but scarcely a mile passed without hearing one nearby. A symptom of the remarkably warm spring or evidence of climate change? It certainly seems that the range of these summer migrants is edging northwards. And it wasn’t only the birdlife that bore the cuckoo moniker as you will read!

Signpost for the West Highland Way with a mountainous backdrop and a clear blue sky.

9 May 2025. Arrived at Bridge of Orchy Hotel at about 4pm. Warm sunshine. Walked eastwards alongside the river (River Orchy) for a mile or so before dinner. Not following the West Highland Way route. Busy A82 on the opposite side of the river, and the railway. Water very low in the water: peaty brown colour. Heard cuckoos in coniferous woodland beside the path. And saw cuckoo flowers (Cardamine pratensis) on path verges. Anemones growing stream side: A. blanda or A. nemorosa? Or another species because very small flower and a low feathery crown.

10 May. Bridge of Orchy to Kingshouse. 12 miles.

Rocky track for most of the walk: the old drovers’ trail. Stone bridges along the route built by Thomas Telford in 1802. Steady climb until route opens onto Rannoch Moor: 360° views ringed by mountains. Peaty pools dotted amidst the heather. Early on, good views of Loch Tully. Many fellow walkers on the trail, but barely a building in sight. We were aware of the A82 in the far distance for much of the route, but only in the distance until a quarter of a mile or so from the Kingshouse Hotel, when we had to cross it.

We heard cuckoos calling for much of the first half of the walk. And a few miles along the route, passing Forest Lodge, a building set in woodland, we saw an orange tip butterfly. Shortly before Ba Bridge, we found a hollow beside the path, sheltered from the breeze. A friendly chaffinch shared our lunch. It felt very warm, dry and comfortable. Not at all what I expected: no rain here for about five weeks: very unusual in the Highlands. The rocky burns looked quite low and dry in places.

There are few trees save the copses of downy birch (Betula pubescens) growing around the stone bridges crossing the burns. Their small shivery leaves remind me of aspens. The leaves are new and shiny, a reminder that it’s only a few weeks since bud break.

Flowers spotted today:

Bird’s foot trefoil (Lotus corniculatis) also called eggs and bacon become of its yellow and orange flowers.

Heath milkwort (Polygala serpyllifolia): deep violet flowers arranged in a pair of petals with a fringed ‘trumpet’ between.

Arctic starflower (Lysimachia europaea). Primrose family. I read that in Scotland it grows on acid soils, often on moorland which has supported woodland in the past.

The view from Kingshouse Hotel is stunning. The spectacular mountain is Buachaille Etive Mor, which I read is the most photographed mountain in Scotland. It stands guard at the entrance to Glencoe.

A scenic view of a mountain with a nearby pond, surrounded by green grass and patches of trees under a partly cloudy sky.

11 May. Kingshouse to Kinlochleven. 9 miles.

Wagtail and thrush on grass outside the hotel. And two deer standing in the stream at the rear of the hotel. Flat but rocky track of about two miles from the hotel to the tiny hamlet of Altnafeadh at the eastern entrance into Glencoe. Then the climb away from Glencoe up the Devil’s Staircase! Thankfully there are ‘steps’ built into the mountainside, but the views at the top of the climb are worth the effort. 360° again: northwards to Ben Nevis.

Trail busy in places. A few hardy people running! Walking on, we found a perfect spot for lunch, looking across to Blackwater Reservoir. Spotted a raptor with dark plumage at high point of the walk. Golden eagle? Cuckoos calling almost all the way along our route. The last part of today’s walk was downhill: slippery in places.

The scenery tames, becomes more wooded. Giant pipework lies across the hillside. I read later that it carries water from the Blackwater Reservoir to the now defunct aluminium plant on the outskirts of Kinlochleven. We walked the length of the plant on the route into town. Our hotel (MacDonald’s) is modest but is situated on the shore of Loch Leven: postcard perfect view along the loch at sunset at about 9.30pm*. Tranquil water, wooded banks. Reminds me of the lakes of Killarney.

Scenic view of a calm river with green hills and mountains in the background, framed by a wooden fence and flowering shrubs at sunset.

Plants identified (thank you Flora Incognita!)

Lousewort (Pedicularis sylvatica). Small pink or white flowers. Seen at the wayside most of the day. Also called Irish lousewort. I read that it grows on the Macgillycuddy’s Reeks in County Kerry. Likes moist acidic soils.

Foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea)

Eared willow (Salix aurita). Shrub growing on acidic soils on heathland and by watercourses.

Common dog violet (Viola riviniana)

Tormentil (Potentilla erecta). Erect cinquefoil. Member of the rose family. Again acidic soils.

12 May Kinlochleven to Fort William. 15 miles.

From opposite the hotel the West Highland Way rises steeply through the woods. We missed a left turn and ended on a higher path parallel with the WHW! Seeing from the map that it reconnected with the route a couple of miles further along, we didn’t need to retrace our steps! The way follows an old military road built two centuries ago across broad and dramatic Lairig Mor. We passed two sheilings or ‘steadings’: ruined stone cottages. Picturesque on our hot sunny day, but a bleak location in times past. The right hand side of the glen is flanked by the Mamores mountain range. Sheep scattered on either side, many with plump black-faced lambs.

A ruined stone building at the intersection of gravel paths, surrounded by rolling hills and a clear blue sky.

As the route curved away to the right we entered a small deciduous and conifer woodland-many birds calling. We stopped here in the shade for lunch. According to the guidebook we were near a Lochan on an island in which Macbeth is said to have lived. After lunch we saw drifts of cuckoo flowers attracting flurries of orange-tipped butterflies. At one point a smallish white butterfly fluttered along in front of us. Fewer walkers today. The narrow path dipped into a steep-sided glen, with wooden bridges over cascading streams, downy birch on the stream banks, and an understorey of exquisite flowers: primroses, water avens, bugle, a purple orchid.

We saw a raven at close quarters, having heard his croaking call from afar for several minutes. Ahead of us loomed Ben Nevis, its face apparently folded into several massive vertical gullies. Here the path bears left and enters Glen Nevis, its woods awash with bluebells. The path widens considerably, but is incredibly stony. A boggy sided stream runs parallel to the path, the banks studded periodically with the insectivorous common butterwort (Pinguicula vulgaris). Small violet and white flowers grow on delicate stems rising from a lime green star-shaped rosette. This section of the WHW runs for about three or four miles before reaching Fort William. A sign reading Failte greets walkers at the finish of the walk. Meaning ‘welcome’ as in Irish Gaelic. Although we had walked only the final three of the seven stages of the walk, we still felt a great sense of achievement.

A person walking on a gravel path surrounded by green foliage and a mountainous landscape under a partly cloudy sky.

Kew Gardens, 2 August 2025

*checking later I read that sunset on that date was at 9.24pm.

Map depicting the route of the West Highland Way, showing key locations such as Fort William, Kinlochleven, Kingshouse, and Milngavie, along with the surrounding mountains and lochs.
A hiker stands on a rocky trail in the Scottish Highlands, holding trekking poles, with mountains in the background under a clear blue sky.