by 
North Berwick – a town in Scotland
A warm hello to all fans of mini-travel in Scotland!!! Today I’m going to visit North Berwick for the first time in my life – a tiny town of only 3.42 square kilometres which became a trendy resort back in the 19th century. The weather, as you will have noticed, is truly Scottish and I am walking briskly along the south shore of the Firth of Forth. I walk briskly along the seaside village whose Gaelic name translates, oddly enough, to “barley farm”.
By the way, there is already one Berwick in the UK, South Berwick, it is located next to the river Tweed. And North Berwick stands on the shores of a bay which collects the waters of several Scottish rivers including the Forth river.
There are quite a few people in the street (including a strange statue figure in the form of a greenish-grey man with binoculars!) and I’m lost in speculation: is it a special day or is it always crowded? And yet I’ve only just entered North Berwick itself and am scrutinising its surroundings. What do you think, for example, of the giant stone seagull on the pedestal with its beak open? By the way, there are quite a lot of them here – they swim and circle over the leaden waves of the bay, vocalising and actively catching small fish.
I don’t know about you, but for some reason I was overcome with incomprehensible sentimental feelings when contemplating blocks of rocks, blue water and green hills, the cacophony of bird cries and the refreshing splash of cold water.
Impressions of the city
What do you think of North Berwick? Personally, my impressions of it are twofold: at first glance it is an ordinary European settlement with modern architecture and good road surfaces. But this is only at first glance. Then the emotions of immersion in the dust of centuries begin to overwhelm – from the contemplation of obvious signs of antiquity. For example, the ancient, medieval street signs: when I looked at them a chill ran down my spine at the apparent presence of the ghosts of the distant past.
I gaze at the squat stone houses, see the pointed, Gothic-style roof overhangs, breathe in the air, brackish because of the proximity of the bay, and realise that this is the past, the past that has come alive.
You know, I was even a little confused by the strange “cocktail” of modern urbanisation and too intense manifestation of North Berwick’s history – it is, you know, about 2000 years old. That said, it is reliably known that the official name first appeared in 1250.
Oh, and here’s a sign of 21st century civilisation: a car park!
But I want to tell you about something else. It’s about my ascent of a mountain that can be seen from many places and it’s called Law, or in English, North Berwick Law.
Mountain climbing
There is a car park signposted to the B1347 as soon as it leaves the edge of North Berwick. A path round the south side of Law gives access to the path that takes you upwards. The signposts are kept to a minimum, but you don’t really need them. The main path runs along the back or south side of Law as it climbs and although in several places you could take a shorter route straight up, the best path is one that turns back a few times as it climbs.
The first truly amazing moment of the climb comes when you turn west of the summit and get your first views of North Berwick and the Firth of Forth. From here the path zigzags more around the front of the Law and becomes a bit more fragmented as you approach the summit. Most of the path is on grass that has been wiped out by many feet. In one or two places it has broken into the soil below and in several places closer to the top you may find yourself on rock that has been polished smooth and can be slippery, especially when wet.
The structure of Mount Law (North Berwick Law)
The summit of North Berwick Law is home to more structures than you can imagine. Just below the summit to the north are the remains of a stone building used as a guardhouse during the Napoleonic Wars (around 1800). Soldiers stationed here would light a warning fire if they saw French ships attempting to enter the Firth of Forth. Law had long served this purpose: in 1544 the watch, this time Henry VIII’s English fleet, was kept by nuns in the neighbouring Cistercian monastery. During the Second World War, Law served as an observation post, this time the troops were based in a brick and concrete structure to the west of Napoleon’s guardhouse.
The summit itself is best known as home for a pair of whale jaws which stand in a small enclosure and are surrounded by railings. The first set was placed in the enclosure in 1709. In 1935 there was a storm and it was blown away, but it was replaced. In 2005 a replacement pair was also in danger of collapse and was removed. North Berwick was not the same without the whale jaws in Berwick Law and due to environmental concerns they were replaced with a pair made of fibreglass in June 2008 which were cast from those removed in 2005. The entire cost was covered by an anonymous donor from North Berwick. After three years of missing bones, North Berwick looked restored once more.
Let’s go!
Well, up it is, up it is! The road is wide and delightfully smooth. And to my left are the low hills beckoning me to climb to the top. I reckon they are as old as North Berwick itself, given its volcanic history.
The structure called Whale Jaws is perfectly visible from below. Of course, I’m anxious to get up there and see it in detail as it’s one of the most important landmarks in the area.
I also notice some very old – either houses or outbuildings. Even down here, they radiate bio-waves of age-old antiquity. Only a little sobering are the foreign cars arranged in rows as if for a moment they pull me out of the abyss of the Middle Ages into the 21st century and immediately let me go back as soon as I come across the abundant artefacts of the past.
North Berwick is not without low wickets, typical of most old Scottish towns made of boards and very much reminiscent of fairy-tale scenery from films like Hansel and Gretel, you know what I mean: fences as in some fairy tales about knights, ancient kings and fantastic characters of bygone eras.
Higher and higher
My perception of reality suddenly changed in an instant as I travelled higher and higher. I saw North Berwick from a completely different perspective than I had at the beginning of my mini voyage. Back then, it seemed modern and businesslike. Now it looks like a remote, but very well-maintained village. Such a model rural area shrouded in silence and measuredness.
As I paced along the dirt path surrounded by dense thickets, I had associations with a lovely old English film. Something out of Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice, set in the second half of the 20th century.
But as soon as the winding path and bushes changed to open countryside, the feel of a good old English film was gone, as if carried away by a breeze. Turns out there are so many people walking to and from the hills! It’s a shame, I really enjoyed the feeling of solitude and silence.
… As I walk along, I marvel at the care of the Scots. They have not only placed here and there signs on stone pillars, but also very comfortable benches: they look very substantial, as if they had been made for ages. Well, knowing the thriftiness of this people, they are.
And higher still
Well, I’m still climbing. I am almost at the end of my journey: the approach to the summit of Berwick Law. I walk over the cliff along its edge and my heart sinks in my chest. To my right, on a very narrow path, is a heap of mossy stones and to my left is a wild expanse of air; a wrong step there and I’m sure I’ll fly to my death.
… Well, the long ascent is over. At the top I had to stomp on big boulders, the path just disappeared under them.
Yay! I’m at the top
Surprisingly, from the bottom Law didn’t seem so high, but at the top of the hill it’s breathtaking to see the height and the mind-blowing view!
The panorama, the visual effect of which is enhanced by gusts of strong wind is really impressive, especially the invitingly blue surface of the bay. And the settlement spreading along the shore – everything is in the palm of your hand – neat, tidy and friendly.
The beauty is unbelievable. But I closed one more “point” I had planned for today: I got to “Jaws”. From their location the view of the city below was even more striking. Frankly speaking, I felt dizzy, either from the excess of impressions or from the decent height.
… Remembering the rocky part of the way, I didn’t want to go down. But I had to, it was time to leave this kingdom of nature and man-made beauty. Of course, the descent took less time than the ascent. But instead of anticipation of joy now I was overcome with sadness. I hate to say goodbye to North Berwick.
