Over The Border: Jedburgh

It was Saturday lunchtime when we arrived in Jedburgh. The sun was out, the talk on the radio was about the early kick-off at Blackburn versus Arsenal and there were flasks of teas and tartan rugs on by the river and German accents on the stone bridge above. Opposite the soaring, skeletal ruins of the Abbey the queue for fish and chips snaked out of a shop doorway, down three stone steps and halfway to the road.