FOLLOWING ST. CUTHBERT'S WAY

I walked St Cuthbert’s Way from Melrose, Scotland to Holy Island in Northumberland in June and July 2026 this is my 3rd experience doing this.  Previously I walked on the Franciscan Way and the Camino de Santiago.  St Cuthbert lived around 650AD, he preferred solitude and walking in nature, but when he was elected a bishop this is the way he walked, to follow his calling.  These poems capture my experience of the landscape, the history and the spirit of St.Cuthbert and the monks (canons) who lived in the beautiful abbeys and priories on the route.  Photos can be seen on www.thewalkingpoet.net

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Following St. Cuthbert’s way

Maybe Saint Cuthbert started walking this way

Leaving Melrose Abbey through the town center

drizzling Scottish rain to start the day

finding the subtle sign between cottages

Leading up into the Eildon hills

steady uphill, deep breathing,

reaching the saddle between the highest hills

dipping down into the woods.

Being a Pilgrim on the path

Opens my heart, eyes and ears

to God’s creation

Life is simple

Each step carries me forward

leaving behind what came before

taking me to experience 

the pure freedom of being,

being present now.

First steps along the River Tweed

On the footbridge an angler,

enjoying the sparkling water,

the babbling sounds,

he does not disturb 

the Scottish salmon

swimming somewhere below us

Up a winding road

the ruins of Dryburgh Abbey

I can feel the faith, the prayers

The discipline of silence and study 

the community of canons (monks) followed

in the magnificent cloisters, the gardens

The church dedicated to the Virgin Mary

Filled with the power of prayer.

Back again on the “way”, 

alongside the golf course

Now along the River Tweed 

the sweet smell of honeysuckle

then edging farmers fields,

for what seems like hours.

The path is overgrown,

I’m not sure this is it.

The sound of thunder

The falling rain

signal that my first day

needs to be cut short.

I take a ride to Jedburgh

for my night’s rest.

FOLLOWING THE ROMAN ROAD

Dere street the Roman road

Saint Cuthbert walked here

through old woodlands

full of dark green ferns

stone walls separating the trees

from rolling hills of farmland.

Walking with Tim and his dog,

out for the day,

Listening to local scottish history

Seeing fields of barley and oats

growing here today

and maybe for centuries.

Unexpectedly the grassy path

becomes a swathe of daisies

alongside a perfectly straight stone wall 

aiming straight for a distant copse.

As the trail veers right,

Cessford Castle appears.

500 years old solid as a rock. 

A scottish fortress of thick walls

and now surrounded, 

By grazing sheep.

Resting here with the friendly sheep

before I walk onto Morebattle,

A village of cottage gardens

filled with flowers at their colorful peaks,

and a memorial to lives lost

in the Great War.

Reaching the tiny hotel

welcomed into the friendly bar

By the Scottish Kenyan hosts.

I find Tim and the 4 ladies

They passed me at Cessford.

I will staying here tonight

Getting prepared for tomorrow’s 

Walk Over the highest hill 

I order macaroni and cheese

Cider and salad.

I will be ready!

OVER THE TOP

It is steep and windy

the cold wind and rain

must have been here 

for St Cuthbert too,

climbing up “Wideopen Hill,

in his sandals and monks habit

flapping around him.

Me in my kilt

Now blue sky and finger-like 

pure white clouds drift across 

the landscape of fields and hedges,

green rolling hills and grey stone walls

following the contours of the land,

boundaries for the wandering sheep .

Over 14 hundred years ago

St Cuthbert walked on forest paths

between tiny fields cared for by peasants,

over the same treeless grassy hills, 

sheep, cows, and goats grazing.

Reaching the top, the halfway point

St, Cuthbert and I happily start downhill.

Feeling free, content and part of nature,

No big farms and combine harvesters,

no roads and cars in sight or sound,

Alone walking at our peaceful pace,

with the inner presence of our own Gods

accompanying us on the path

towards Lindisfarne, Holy Island.

ACROSS THE MOORS

Into England and the Northumberland National Park

Driving up the steep country road

the Dutch couple slow down,

talking and enjoying the hills

never seen in their flat lands.

St Cuthbert’s way turns off the road

A path opens up, vistas expand

tall grass and flowering Scottish thistles

lead to England’s defenseless border.

Into the Northumberland National Park, 

Climbing over the walls wooden ladder

a flock of sheep and lambs chew quietly, 

while some dig in and suck mother’s milk

The ram on the hill watches me,

His wife and kids standing on the trail ahead,

move aside as i approach.

A narrow trail wanders through the heather

Purple flowers and black burnt bushes

then white branches of new growth.

Then black and white and purple again.

The trail widens into a track

bordered with heather and ferns. 

A small herd of large animals

munch away on either side.

Then standing ahead on the track

is the shiny golden number 47.

Wait, this is not a cow,

This is a bullock

and he is staring at me, hard,

not moving.

Much bigger than me

he does move aside just enough.

I pass by, moments pass

I turn to see a trio of bullocks

following me.

Do I imagine they are speeding up?

Trotting.

Walking backwards I watch them,

until I trip, falling

into the heather

Lying on my back,

looking them in the eye,

I loudly announce,

 I am alright 

in my best Scottish accent.

Losing interest they stop,

I get up and speed on,

missing the sign to turn left,

soon realizing I am off the way.

Eventually, and indirectly

I reach Wooler Common 

only to discover St Cuthbert’s way, 

or maybe just the current path,

is 2 miles longer

than the road straight to town.

Its 6pm,

I’ve walked 16 miles,

strategic decision.

Accept a ride!

Sorry St. Cuthbert

we will have another day together

tomorrow.

©MartinStrasmore2026