Something there is that doesn't love a wall...
—Robert Frost

St. BoswellsJedburghNorthumberland ParkNewcastle

The 100 miles from Dalkeith to Newcastle retraces the trails of Scots and Brits who always found reason to continually invade each other. William Wallace led many such raids, at least one as far as Newcastle. Likewise, the Brits did the same to Scots. There is a statue of Wallace standing guard at Dryburgh. You can relive Wallace's adventures as a terrorist in Mel Gibson's somewhat romanticized movie version Braveheart. Yes, before the century is done, there will also be a romanticized version of Bin Laden's brave heart, perhaps titled Braveliver, or whatever is appropriate in Arabic.

Long before Wallace, the Romans tried to restrain Scottish rampages by building a long wall that any Mexican illegal would laugh at. Even the sheep can hop it. The wall is preserved in Northumberland Park for folks who love taking pretty pictures.


Some couples love a wall, others do not. Some couples are too young to know they need one, others too old to care. Good walls make good marriages? Difficult to say. Marriages create boundaries. One member may need the boundaries, the other resent them. Coming together also means growing apart. The marriage may be carnal, the marriage may be saintly, the rule still applies. Without marriages, there are no secrets, there are no divorces, there are no boundaries.


Following the rule that boys who fight each other get to know each other, Scots and Brits have over the millennia learned to love each other. In their bromance, they discovered that, together, they could beat up just about anybody if a bagpiper played a jolly tune.


By nightfall, I had found the Newcastle home of Amanda Hayes' parents.
Amanda's parents were somewhere on vacation
far away from Amanda and her two hippy companions.