April - a UK spring

We have often said that between our journeys to further parts, the varied verdant characters of the UK should not remain untravelled.

The UK in Spring is delightful.

The children are captured in their classrooms, the roads and trains are free flowing, the weather is by no means predictable for those who need such things, and the opportunities for berthing in unhurried comfort are widespread. 

This is not to say we chose April to explore new parts, but rather we thought to sate ourselves with return visits to places and people that we enjoy, for when we do there is always the chance to look under another rock, delve into another corner, deepen our appreciation of these places still further.

And as looking under rocks is best performed in the landscapes besides the sea, it is to Orford and Dittisham that we first return - one flat and windswept, sunkissed but raw in the winds off the North Sea, the other blessed with Gulf Stream warmth and nestled in the river valleys amongst the foothills of Dartmoor as they flow down to the coast.  We spend idle time, walking the paths and the edges, long lazy admiration for spring’s burgeoning earth, playing games on the grass and spotting birds on the wing, days blessed with fine, formidable food and evenings comforted by cosy pubs and good ale.

We didn’t make it to Scotland last year, last minute broken bones putting paid to our journey along the west coast.  The recently acquired exercise machine for that recovering wrist, all turtle red and laced with black and white faux ivory, now points us back to the Scottish Borders where, in a small parish hall in the tiny cluster of Ettrickbridge, an unusual group of lady accordion players are gathering for a concert. The borders of Scotland are as dramatic as they are peaceful. They stretch from the gritty harbours of Eyemouth and St Abbs on the North Sea to the beautified and consequently sacked Caerlaverock Castle on the Irish. We visit both and most in between, wafting our car gently along edgeless roads over softly undulating landscape, climbing rough-hewn stone steps and lichen coated dry-stone walls to reach ancient monuments and mountaintop lakes immersed in the silence of majestic scenery that is both soft and wild, craggy and graceful. 

The concert too is a gentle joy; lovely chatty humorous ladies, home-made cake and home-made dresses to match their accordions, explaining and displaying the versatility of Sigrun’s new musical exercise toy with professional prowess and a deftly rehearsed gamut of musical forms. And then, as the night draws in, it’s across the road and into the Cross Keys Inn, ladies with their accordions joined by men with theirs, with fiddles and a drumbox, guitars and voices, smooth ancient folktune jamming in absolute harmony and mutual respect.
 
A pair, barely street-lit, glow softly through the window, dancing as only those of Celtic origin can do.
 
Yes, there is much in the UK yet to discover.

April 2026