The linear speedometer of a 1970’s Vauxhall Viva, an abandoned Railway Station, and a Treasure Chest with Multi-levered Lock, all memories conjured-up by the purchase (Dobbies, 13/08/11 - £2.20, 33cl) of a bottle of Traquair House Ale, which hales from Innerleithen in the Scottish Borders, and that before partaking of its proclaimed 7.2% ABV contents!
For many Tyneside families the hard times of the early 1930’s meant making the most of one’s lot, (by legend viewed through the Amber-hue of Newcastle Brown Ale - but that‘s another story), or looking to greener pastures. Hence as a child, I followed in the footsteps of my Granddad’s sisters, albeit only for weekends and holidays, to what for me was the far-removed world of Innerleithen, a now former Mill Town, set amongst the rolling hills of the River Tweed valley.
Packed into Vera, (didn’t all cars have names?), we’d set out on the 80 mile, three hour adventure, with innumerable refreshment stops en-route, my breathing in tune with the display from her dashboard. Leaving the sprawl of Newcastle’ behind, we’d soon head into the Northumberland of my ancestors, it’s vast open landscape dotted with bastions of stone, although in reality I probably thought of it more as fields, sheep and scattered houses. But, that’s 40 years for you and the passing of much water . . . under the bridge.
Descending the heights of the Carter Bar, we’d entered Scotland; not only did the sign say so, but as confirmation a lone Piper heralded our arrival - I’ve never quite been able to get my head around a man in a skirt, especially with the wind howling around those parts, but each to their own and no pun intended on both counts. Not long now, soon we’d enter that mystical place of the mixed metaphor, were Heavy was Bitter and you could buy a pint for less than price on the pump, in Shillings anyway - so I was told.
Left to my own devices, unable to access this Drybrough, although you could get a mean glass of ‘Vimto’ on the High Street, I ventured up hill to look down from Lee Pen, followed the Tweed to Walkerburn, the route of the North British Railway being my guide, where if I remember rightly, the former Stations 1958 paint job didn't look all too shabby. Discovered Cola with a ’K’ and drank from St Ronan’s Well, without twisting my face. Happy days, yes the sun did shine back then, and I was free to discover a wealth of history which in time brought me to the Bear Gates, locked since the time of Bonnie Prince Charlie, and Scotland’s ’Oldest inhabited House’, Traquair.
What about the beer, well we’ll get there in due course. My abiding memory of that first visit was the aforementioned Treasure Chest, and despite subsequent visit’s the famous ’Potent Liquor brewed by the Laird’, (I’ll tell you at a later date about Bulgarian Cabernet Sauvignon, a find on my return via Newcastleton in the mid-eighties), remained hidden behind the doors of the ’Ancient Brew House’, a treasure awaiting discovery?
Yes . . . very much so, pouring a rich Amber Red, with Light Creamy Head, its soft malty notes leading to a balanced, rounded palate, with a lingering, warming finish. Truly a beer to savour, and the perfect accompaniment to Bacon and Eggs - it was nearer lunchtime, honest. Spring Water, Barley Malt, Hops and Yeast, brought together in harmony, its glow affording the chance to bask in reflective glory of Summers past.
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