he following morning, Ian and myself were packed and ready to go well before Terry and we bade him a warm farewell, as we were not sure if we would see him again along the Way. He had started out with the intention of walking the SUW to Melrose before picking up the St.Cuthberts Way to Holy Island but his walk now looked in jeopardy because of his injury. We later discovered that he had been forced to give up at Melrose. We reached the summit of Minch Moor (right) from where we had excellent views across to the triple-peaked Eildon Hills at Melrose, our target for the day, and set off once more in good spirits. There was a subtle change going on in the surrounding countryside which was hard to pinpoint but the terrain was definitely softening and there were also more signs of 'civilisation' which, in a way I found slightly sad as it signalled the beginning of the end of the walk. Soon, any thoughts I'd had of the walk coming to an end were driven from my mind as we tackled the next climb to the summit of Brown Knowe at 523 metres. Later we came upon the Three Brethren, three massive cairns standing taller than either of us from where we had far-reaching views of the surrounding countryside including the Lammamuir Hills that we would be crossing over the following two days. The end was really now in sight as we only had three days left to the finish at Cockburnspath and surely now we would be successful. Ian's blisters had long since ceased to cause him problems and barring accident or injury nothing could stop us. We reached the outskirts of Galashiels and both hated walking through streets busy with traffic and people. Soon we were walking alongside the Tweed but even this felt 'urbanised' after all of the days in the wild. As we passed cars in the parking areas along the riverbank occupants blinked in amused bewilderment at these two dishevelled men with large rucksacks and 'ski-poles' temporarily blocking their view of the river from the safety of their 'tin boxes'.

After what seemed an age we arrived in Melrose and, tired though I was, I was immediately glad that we had carried on to this attractive little town nestling below the Eildon Hills (right) which had seemed so far away from the summit of Minch Moor. Although fairly ‘touristy’ it had a pleasant feel to it in it’s picturesque setting on the banks of the Tweed overlooked by the ruins of the Abbey. We called in at the local Tourist Information Centre and they found us a room for the night, which was unfortunately on the other side of the river in Gattonside, but this was a minor problem. The bed & breakfast establishment turned out to be excellent and we showered and rested while watching television before strolling down into the high street to a pub called The Rievers Inn. Here a friendly, portly man called Stan served us excellent food and beer and later joined us in a drink when we were the only customers left toward the end of the evening. Eventually we stumbled out of the pub and struggled back up the hill where we both sunk gratefully into the comfortable beds that awaited us.