There was one day left of our holiday. RA mentioned that she had never been to the border towns of Berwick, Coldstream, Cornhill or Kelso so we considered a cycling route with a stop-off at my cousins’ house, or a trip by train. Due to the distance and time available we opted for the train, so set off to find the computerised booking system, conveniently located in a muddy bog not far from our bed and breakfast.
The handheld device for booking train tickets had a terrible user interface and before long we had given up on it. “In any case”, said TPR, “I don’t think that there’s a train track along the River Tweed”.
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