11b

almost two years ago, i bravely joined an orienteering race in edinburgh. we took a mini-bus up and as we were passing through berwick, a final yearer who'd done her rural GP placement there insisted that we drive back and forth across the bridge. she'd described an idyllic month, staying at a local b&b and swimming in the sea after clinic every day. at that point, i was more concerned with learning how to run while holding a compass (still haven't mastered it!) and sort of glazed over as we passed the town by. then came a weekend when the mister and i got itchy feet. we'd been to edinburgh while backpacking summer 2008 (gah, so old!) and wanted to venture north-ish. berwick came to mind and off we went!

oh, heart-warming story before i begin. so when we went to print out our berwick tickets, silly me hadn't realised there were eight (!!!) tickets involved. we picked up the one and went to have coffee, when to my horror it dawned on me that our solitary ticket read 1/8. my heart sank and we ran (ok i ran, the mister trailed and smirked) back to the station. there'd been some recent renovations and it was a mess, but basically the lady by the ticket machine checked and said all eight had been printed and she could not reissue them despite my insistance that i'd hung around but only one had popped out. about 2h had since passed and semi-resigned to having to buy a new set, i checked at the information counter and ohmyword, some kind soul had returned them. all of them! you hear some horrible things about big cities, but this act of kindness made my week. i felt warm and fuzzy all the way to berwick and back :)

and another shot from a little closer to the bridge. if you're astute, you might recognise it from the skyfall train advertisement! 

the mister is a man of impeccable taste and discernment. he's the amazing ability to sniff out the best deals, and find the coolest places to stay. i mean, just take look at any of the trips he's planned. the few times i've booked accommodation, it's always fallen short. in athens, i accidentally booked us (and his parents) into a dodgy hotel in the red light district (yeah, think hotel 81 equivalent in the greek geylang...). it didn't even have an en suite bathroom! i'd come to the gloomy hallway to find poor FIL patiently accompanying MIL on multiple trips to the far flung loo. more recently, i even got the town wrong and booked us 30km away (with no car) from the roman wall. lost all faith in my planning ability yet? i sure have! so you can imagine my sheer joy and relief when what i booked (that had sounded good on paper!) was actually good in real life too. value is something i, well, value, and much as i enjoy the occasional splurge, it's also so important to live within our (single-income!) means. i'd booked us a room above the local chippy and was silently prepared to come out smelling of yesterday's dinner. little did i know that the room was a lovely roomy attic room (they almost never are!), perfectly appointed, spotless, fragrantly scented and with plenty of skylights to make the most of the autumn sunshine. even the mister was impressed! yay to the perks of high street living without the hefty price tag :)