Cycling across the featureless moor through the necessary damp white mist into Roxburghshire (Dumfriesshire or Berwickshire) marked by a rampant lion carrying hammer and cickle single mace reminding you you are entering a zone of tribally pure (and therefore interbred characteristically ‘turning a blind eye’ to incest) nomadic Picts whose fickle and ferocious heritage is looting the dead bodies of English soldiers: It reminds you you are entering a Foreign Country.
These roving extended families guard the route up to Edinburgh where at Authur’s Seat (a magnificent volcanic buttress) the defence of Scotland is surrendered to Jacobite Tim Roth on a Dapple Mere.
As I Look North The View From England of Scotland evokes Queen Elizabeth’s ship off Newcastle intercepting Mary Queen of Scot’s and the cerebral edge English women have over Scottish women. Its important the Eliabethan warship was despatched from Newcastle.
John Knox graced England by staying for a short while exiled in Newcastle.
Briefly, on my imaginary cycle trip to Auld Rekie I muse England’s gleichschaltung under Scottish Government of England since James V became James I of England, under Scottish Born (Or Named) Britsh Prime Ministers* and yearned for English Independence from Scotland: The motto might be ‘Get Shot of A Scot’. Thinking a liitle deeper though on ‘Scotland The What’ and Andy Stewart and remember what Scotland is: A land of Golden Autumn run by The Gay Scottish Mafia and Doric speaking Scottish Widows.
*The Earl of Bute, George Gordon Earl of Aberdeen, Henry Campbell-Bannerman, Andrew Bonar Law, Ramsey McDonald, Harold Macmillan, Alec Douglas-Home, Tony Blair and ‘Son of the Manse’ Gordon Brown.