Here, I am stepping in the footsteps of my ancestors, the Hogg family. We start by revisiting St Mary’s, Morpeth, which was closed on my last visit and proved to be so again this time. Given the size of the graveyard, there is no hope of locating the three family graves that I know are here, especially as they probably don’t have marker. There is an address for a ‘parish office’ about a mile away that is theoretically open. We drive off there but only have a road name and not a number. None of the houses or bungalows in the road look remotely like a parish office and no one available to ask seems to have heard of a church, let alone a parish office. We give up and have a quick walk round Morpeth. I am fascinated by the courts that hide behind the main streets and which were once the homes of my ancestors.

Scotland is apparently bathed in sunshine. Typical, here we have drizzle and falling temperatures. Time for another National Trust property near you visit, this time to Wallington House near the weirdly named Cambo. The house was built for William Blackett in 1688 and then passed into the Trevelyan family, who, as the name suggests, originated in Cornwall. The most notable feature of this house is a central courtyard, which was covered over in the 1850s and decorated with murals depicting the history of Northumberland, for which the artist, William Bell, was paid £100 a panel. We are supposed to spot stuffed squirrels in the various rooms. I clearly need a two year old with me for this. Mind you I was not helped by the sample squirrels being three times the size of the hidden ones. There is a group called Robson’s Choice playing the Northumbrian pipes in the hall. These are very different from Scottish bagpipes and are much more suited to an indoor performance. They are not blown but the air is injected by squeezing bellows strapped to the elbow. My favourite features are once again the kitchen and also a series of photographs of former servants that are on display as part of a ‘Silent Voices’ project.

As we leave, the custodian asks if we are going to look round the gardens. Has she stepped outside lately? We have brought clothes suitable for northern summers but they are seriously inadequate for what the weather has thrown at us on this trip.

It is ten degrees as we leave Scotland. Arriving in England, it might be a little warmer but there is a thick mist. Too late we realise that the earliest entry on the site at Berwick on Tweed is not midday but 1.00pm. We arrive at 12.10pm and are third in the queue. There is not much room for queuing so our arrival effectively blocks the exit, meaning that no one can get a vehicle, much less a caravan, in or out. The harassed warden arrives, pointing out that we are all early. She has no option but to let at least one of us through the barrier. In the end she kindly allows us all on site. Having set up we return to Scotland. The sole reason for us stopping here is to see a Bucks ledge boat that is currently owned by World of Boats in Eyemouth. This small west country fishing boat is carvel constructed in a style that is unique to Bucks Mills and it belonged to a member of the Braund family. We arrive in a very chilly Eyemouth and locate World of Boats. We pay our modest entrance fee and converse with the very chatty custodian who explains all about their new acquired whaler. World of Boats own over 400 boats from across the globe. Unfortunately, 395 of them are not on display, including, inevitably, the Bucks ledge boat. On enquiring we learn that they are off site in the ostrich sheds. The ostrich sheds? These are not open to the public on the grounds of health and safety as the boats are stored on racks. Illogically, we can however view these if accompanied by a custodian. I assume that said custodian is briefed to catch any boat that looks likely to land on our heads. There will be someone who can take us tomorrow. In theory we are not available tomorrow as we have to be off site and heading south in the morning. We decide however that, by dint of arriving as the museum opens, we can just fit in a quick trip to the ostrich sheds before we leave.

Our boatless excursion leaves us with an afternoon free, so we cast about for something to do in Eyemouth, ideally something indoors, so not the thrilling trip in a speed boat that is on offer. There is a large yellow flag saying ‘house open’ and signs to Gunsgreen House, so we give that a try. Although this is not a venue that we can enter free of charge on the strength of our memberships, it has the advantage of being only hundreds of yards from World of Boats. The name Gunsgreen probably dates from the time when soldiers from nearby forts practiced in this area. The house, designed by John Adam, was built for John Nisbet in 1753. Nisbet was a local merchant who was also involved in organised smuggling on a very large scale. This was not usual on the east coast, especially after the Union of the Crowns, in 1707, imposed the crippling English taxes on Scotland. The nearest customs house was a three hour ride away at Dunbar, so Eyemouth was an ideal spot. An interesting aside: Dunbar Kirk Sessions reveal that, in the 1730s, Nisbet had been in trouble for an association with servant girls.

The main product that was smuggled was tea, which in Nisbet’s time attracted 119% tax. The house includes a hidden chute where large quantities of tea could be stored, a hidey hole under the floorboards, capable of concealing three men and warren like cellars, where our tour began. The top floors were not finished for twenty years, by which time a tenant, John Stewart, was in residence. The house was sold to rival merchant and smuggler, Alexander Robertson, to pay debts and then passed to the Home family. From 1906-1965 the house was run as a guest house by the Dougals. It then did time as a clubhouse for golfers and was finally acquired for restoration by the trust in 1998. In fact very little had been altered by the succession of owners. Pleased with our choice of ‘bonus’ visit, we return to Berwick Seaview site, which is by then living up to its name.

Despite not being the greatest fans of cities, we feel we do have to spend time in Edinburgh and today’s the day. Unfortunately, as we discovered yesterday, it is also the day of the Edinburgh Marathon but we hope that this won’t cause too many problems. We feel that we are unlikely to be mistaken for competitors. There is a half-hourly minibus service from the site into the city. You appear to just queue up for this. I am not daft, I can work out that if all of the 400 or so people on the site want to get on a 16 seater minibus at  the same time, we may be unlucky. Obviously we need to be at the front of the queue. We plan to catch the first bus at 9.30am. Left to me I’d have been there at 8.00am but I am restrained until 9.10am. We are the only people waiting. By the time it gets to 9.25am I am feeling that I would be comforted if there were some other people in the queue, as reassurance that a) we are waiting in the right place and b) we weren’t supposed to ring up and request the minibus. 9.30am and we (and no-one else) board the vehicle for the city centre.

We walk along Prince’s Street and through the beautiful Prince’s Gardens, making our way up and it certainly is up, to Edinburgh Castle. Yet again our English Heritage membership comes in handy, gaining us free entry. We join a guided tour in a group which includes Americans, Australians, Germans and Japanese. Our leader is Laura, whose delivery is very amusing and we learn of the castle’s history. This site has been occupied for 3000 years but the earliest remains are 900 years old. It has been used continuously, at times as a royal residence, a seat of Parliament and it is still a working garrison. At 400 feet above sea level the castle dominates the city and it is in an ideal defensive position. Laura comments on the historical inaccuracies of Braveheart – Wallace was a rich lowlander and not a kilt-wearing peasant a la Mel Gibson.

The weather is much better today. Not as much better as some of the locals, with their bare chests and shorts, are implying; I still have my coat and jumper on. We can at least see the view over the Firth of Forth as the mist has lifted. The castle fire a cannon at 1pm daily, except Sundays, so we shall miss that. St Margaret’s Chapel is the oldest part of the castle. It was built in memory of Margaret, the mother of David I. It is very tiny and although it is still used for weddings, you are limited to 25 guests. After our tour we wait for an excellent presentation by an historical interpreter, representing Sir Thomas Randolph, Earl of Moray who, in 1314, was charged with recapturing the castle from English occupation. It was one of three castles in English hands at the time. Roxborough was re-taken by men disguised as cows. Randolph, whose half uncle was Robert the Bruce, climbed the rock using a secret path revealed to him by the son of a former castle governor and got inside the castle with thirty men, whilst others created a diversion at the gates, so the castle was recaptured from inside. It is great to chat to the interpreter and try his weaponry. The chain mail is seriously heavy and the full face helmet certainly restricts the field of vision. He has a fiendish looking mace, which was designed for use by churchmen who were not allowed to let blood, although bashing people over the head was fine!

We queue for a considerable time to see the Scottish crown jewels. The sceptre, sword and crown were first used together for the coronation of the infant Mary Queen of Scots in 1543. These had to be hidden from Cromwell’s troops and somehow went missing from 1707-1818. We also see the Stone of Destiny, also known as the Stone of Scone, which has been used in coronation ceremonies for centuries. It was ‘acquired’ from the Scots by Edward I and taken to England. In 1950, four students stole it and broke it in the process, after four months they abandoned it at Abroath as a political protest. It was returned to England until 1996 when it was finally given back to the Scots on the proviso that it can be borrowed for future coronations. A quick look through the royal apartments and then off to view the Great Hall, with its impressive hammer beam roof and vast collection of armour and armaments. We also tour the Scottish war memorial that commemorates nearly 150,000 Scottish war dead.

By this time we have been on our feet for 2½ hours so decide to invest in the hop on hop off open-top city tour bus. We don’t actually do any hopping but make nearly two complete circuits, once listening to the standard commentary and once to a Horrible Histories version. The latter makes much of the connection with Burke and Hare.  We are warned to beware of the tram lines. We must not stand on the seats or take ‘anything lengthy’ on the top deck. The examples given are fishing  rods and helium balloons. We have neither so we are fine. Edinburgh’s contribution to medicine is mentioned. It is home to the oldest College of Surgeons, founded in 1505. We stop at the grass market, where sales of grass for animal feed, as well as other produce, have been held since 1477; it was also the site of the gallows. Now it is a trendy area with cafés and outside eating spaces. Being Scotland, these are full because the sun is out, despite the piercing wind. We see the back of the Greyfriars Bobby statute, commemorating the dog who held a vigil on his dead master’s grave for fourteen years. The Royal Mile (actually a Scottish mile so longer than ours) links the castle to Holyrood House, which comes next along with Holyrood Park, the latter is the largest royal park in Britain. Arthur’s Seat towers 800 feet above us. Several Edinburgh streets are actually bridges, not over rivers but linking areas of higher ground. Most of the streets in the new, planned, city have Hanoverian inspired names. The city is the largest urban world heritage site in the world. We see our first pipers of this Scottish trip.

The only evidence of the marathon was some rubbish and a few abandoned traffic cones. We are only half an hour early for the first return minibus trip of the day and we are the only passengers. This is our final full day in Scotland but the holiday is not quite over.

The journey this time is a very short one in to Edinburgh. We approach what we believe is the Forth Road Bridge. It seems to have some rather disconcerting gaps in it. Ah! Fortunately this is not the Forth Road Bridge, or at least not yet; it is still under construction. I am disappointed that no one is actually in the process of painting the real Forth Road Bridge. There are warnings of a running event in the city but we are aiming for the north of Edinburgh so hope to avoid this. We later discover that this event is not until tomorrow and that it is the Edinburgh marathon. I am quite excited to be directed down Quality Street; this does actually appear to be the Quality Street. It might have been better if we had not been directed down Quality Street as we are in the midst of another sat-nav fail. This time it knows where site is (unlike the last two destinations) but seems to think that our caravan will fit down a road blocked by bollards with the gap between them barely wide enough for a car, sigh.

Today is the first time since we reached Scotland that we have been able to go out in tee-shirts, well Chris is in a tee-shirt; I still have a jumper on. We are trying to find the Chapel of Rosslyn, which has associations with the Knights Templar, always a fascination for me. Wouldn’t you think it would be in a place called Rosslyn? Nope. It is in Roslin, which is not what I was putting in the sat-nav! When we find it, along with four coach loads of other tourists, there are guide leaflets in every language but English. The rationale behind this is that the interpretation boards are in English, so we won’t need a leaflet. I would like to take one home so I opt for French on the grounds that I may understand one word in three. First comes the Old Rosslyn Inn, which was opened from 1660-1866 but is now a private house. It was patronised by ‘celebrities’ such as the future Edward VII, Walter Scott, William and Dorothy Wordsworth and Robert Burns.

The Chapel was begun in 1446 by Sir William St Clair, Prince of Orkney, who owned nearby Rosslyn Castle. What was known as the Collegiate Chapel of St Matthew, was intended as a private chapel so masses could be said for the souls of the St Clair family. The chapel was built in an over the top gothic style using local stone and probably employing French masons. It took forty years to ‘complete’ but was half the size of that which was originally planned, perhaps because the impetus was lost with the death of St. Clair.

One advantage of all the tour buses is that we can eavesdrop on a group’s commentary. A French guide explains, in very good English, some of the symbolism behind the many carvings. She is aided by a green laser pointer. Our attention is drawn to over 100 green man carvings. This pagan symbol is not unknown in chapels but so many of them is very unusual. There are, understandably, carvings that are full of religious symbolism as well as animals and plants. The plants include maize, which is strange as it was carved fifty years before Columbus discovered America. There are angels playing instruments, including bagpipes, a dance of death and depictions of the seven deadly sins. There is a legend attached to two of the carved pillars. One was supposed to be executed by the master mason and a more elaborate one by the apprentice, who was inspired by a dream. The incensed mason then killed the apprentice in a fit of jealous rage. Two of the gargoyles are supposed to depict the mason and his apprentice, complete with head wound. Ironically, the mason is sited so that he stares at the apprentice’s column.

The chapel is associated with the Knights Templar, early twelfth century warrior monks whose role was to protect pilgrims on crusade and to find and guard treasures from the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem. The chapel came to prominence because it features in Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code and the visitor footfall increased five fold as a result. After the Reformation, prayers for the dead were no longer customary but the chapel is still in use for regular services. Monck stabled the horses of the Parliamentarian forces in the chapel in 1650. By the eighteenth century it had fallen into disrepair and as a ‘ruin’, become a focus for Romantic poets and artists including Turner. Its initial restoration was inspired by Queen Victoria and now there are 175,000 visitors a year, many of whom seemed to be there on the same day as us. I was a bit disappointed that there was not more information on the Knights Templar but it was fascinating nonetheless.

On the way back to the van we call in at Currie, where my granddaughter’s ancestors came from but no luck with the graveyard here. There are some very unusual stones there though.