
Kelso as seen from The Cobby Riverside Walk.
Three weird things happened on my trip to Kelso. The first happened before I even left the U.S., after I had already made reservations to stay at the Bellevue Guest House in Kelso. Although there are about fifteen other places to stay, I chose Bellevue because it looked nice and was the closest B&B to Floors Castle. A tingle went through me when I was visiting my parents and I looked in their scrapbook from their trip to Scotland in the late 1970s. They had saved a business card from Bellevue Guest House, where they stayed while they were visiting Kelso. (Cue the Twilight Zone music.)
The second thing was the fact that I did not get lost once on my journey from Edinburgh to Kelso. Just ask my traveling companion (who was no longer there to help navigate) — that was unusual. It was like I knew where to go. Ancestral memory, perhaps?
Actually, the drive was wonderful. The roads were wide compared to those in northeastern Scotland, and the scenery was ultra-pastoral. I sang as I drove – so happy at the ease of finding my way. By this time, I was much less terrified of driving in Scotland anyway, having a week of wrong-handed shifting and wrong-sided driving under my belt.
The third weird thing happened after I checked into Bellevue House. My host, Graham, suggested that I take an evening stroll along the River Tweed just a few blocks away. I unpacked and did just that. The riverside walk wasn’t on a boardwalk like we are used to in the U.S. The “walk” was a wide swath of mown grass along the riverbank. As I emerged from the neighborhood homes and came the river came in view, the first thing I saw was a huge white swan. It swam in the river directly across from me.

The Kelso Welcome Swan (a mute swan).
Ach – so beautiful! We kept pace with each other for quite a while, then parted, only to meet later downriver when it was with its mate. Call me weird, but I felt like the swan was welcoming me to Kelso.

The Kelso Abbey
I made my way along the river to the town square and the Kelso Abbey. The abbey has a graveyard, which I thought my great-great grandfather’s gravestone was in. But it was late and the gate to the abbey was locked. I’d have to come back tomorrow to look. Afterwards, I walked on the Kelso Bridge over the river and got a glimpse of Floors Castle in the murky and darkening distance.
Worn out from my long drive and walk, I retired back the Bellevue House to rest for my gravestone quest and visit to Floors Castle the next day.
I am so impressed that you drove on the “wrong” side of the road! You are my travel hero!
Thanks, but don’t congratulate me on my driving skills too soon. The trip’s not over yet…. I’m saving that post for last. 😉
I like the idea of “ancestral memory” leading you to Kelso. What a homing instinct!
Like a salmon to its natal stream….