Thursday 20th July 1972 Stobo Peebleshire

Well today’s the last day of our Stobo camping week so we were determined to make the most of it.

Once again it was another absolute stoater of a day with the sunshine blasting down however it’s almost as if we’ve got used to it and I’m as brown as a berry.

We spent much of the day in and out of the water, jumping and diving in as well as swimming and just cooling off.

Later in the day we took the tent down to be prepared for Douglas Blades arriving later in the evening.

I’m not sure what the church will say about the state of the tent. We’ve had a bit of a laugh. When the boys were getting changed the girls would peep in through a small hole in it, then vice-versa with the girls doing the same! It’s been a bit of an ongoing joke but the peep-hole has got bigger ‘n bigger!

Douglas arrived for us quite late on, around ten past nine at night and drove us home to Oxgangs. We stopped off for chips on the way.

It’s very strange being home and back sleeping in a bed.

Before I went I watched a programme on BBC 2 called The Life of Hitler. What a strange contrast after such a lovely week away.

Wednesday 19th July 1972 Stobo Peebleshire

I went down to Stobo Village which is really just a tiny hamlet to the wee shop-come post office-come someone's house and bought five bottles of juice for us this morning.

Adjacent to our tent there’s a small still pool where we keep our submerged drinks cool and which we also use for bathing.

I felt slightly better this morning but it was turning into yet another cracking day.

Fiona stayed behind to look after the gear and potter around whilst Paul Forbes and I set off for the six miles to the lovely county town of Peebles.

We began walking there but it was dead hot and exhausting.

We stuck our thumbs out to a couple of passing vehicles but without any success.

Being a quiet country lane there was very little traffic on the road; of a sudden we heard a car in the distance. I immediately lay down in the middle of the road whilst Paul leapt frantically up and down and waved down an older charming English couple and told them rather dramatically that I'd fainted with the heat.

They kindly offered us a lift into town. Rather like Stanley Baxter in The Fast Lady I of course made an immediate recovery and we were soon chatting happily with them on the drive into town!

We had an enjoyable day in Peebles, a bit similar to Monday.

When I got back I gathered in some firewood from across the river in the small woodland before going for a brilliant dip and swim in the River Tweed.

After supper we sat round the campfire playing cards and having a good laugh. The bus driver on the Peebles to Glasgow run has just flashed his lights at us and given us a toot of the horn and a friendly wave.

Tuesday 18th July 1972 Stobo Peebleshire

Paul Forbes; Peter and Iain Hoffmann  Stobo 18th July 1972

Normally the problem with camping in Scotland is the weather; people often get washed out and have to give up and go home. Ironically we’ve had some difficulty with the weather too but for the opposite reason. We’ve chosen one of those very rare occasions when Scotland has a heatwave so it’s been a mixed blessing.

This week is the hottest summer I can recall with the temperature in the eighties. It’s become so hot that most of us have begun to suffer from heatstroke.

Alison Blades and my brother Iain aren’t feeling great at all so I went down to the wee phone box at Stobo and phoned Nana. Fortunately Gaga was able to drive over with Nana and Aunt Heather from Portobello to transport the two of them back home to Oxgangs. Alison in particular was suffering. I’ve been feeling crap and have just been sick.

Alison and Fiona Blades; Paul Forbes; Peter and Iain Hoffmann with our grandparents Stobo 18th July 1972

However in between we’ve had a great time, up early with the light and staying up late into the evening sitting around our camp-fire before turning in for the evening after games of Trumps and talking. And before we all drift off to sleep inside the tent the craic is always good with much story telling, nonsense and hilarity.

And then being awoken in the morning by the sounds of birdsong with the only sound during the night the gentle plashing of water as it lapped against the small pebbles but once or twice during the night there would be a strange sound or screech which broke the silence - What was that? - but we've felt safe and secure in one another's company and soon fall back to sleep.

Monday 17th July 1972 Stobo Peebleshire

After yesterday’s dawn start with all the sound of the wildlife and the early rising of the sun, we managed to lie in the tent longer this morning until around 9.00am.

After a sandwich and some juice we all set off from Stobo to walk the six miles along the old B712 country road to Peebles. We were lucky because we ended up managing to thumb a lift.

Even though it was quite early the sun was already high in the sky and it was turning into a roasting day.

I like Peebles and know it well because Nana and Gaga have taken us there regularly over the years for picnics on Sundays.

For a good part of the day we mucked about the town, played putting and played besides the swans down by the riverside.

We managed to get a country bus back to our campsite with the driver dropping us off nearby. It was strange getting back to camp; already it feels like 'home' as we’ve got a base there with our tent.

Paul Forbes; Peter and Iain Hoffmann  Stobo July 1972

It’s become that rare Scottish event, a heatwave, so it was absolutely brilliant to take a long run from the opposite bank and jump into the cold waters of the River Tweed.

A fisherman had left some fish that he caught so we cooked them on the campfire for our supper.

When the bus driver was returning along the road in the late evening he flashed his lights at the happy campers.

We’re sitting playing cards now and chatting and laughing by the light and warmth of the campfire. A dream-like day, in both senses of the word.

Sunday 16th July 1972 Stobo Peebleshire

Paul Forbes; Peter and Iain Hoffmann  Stobo July 1972

We got up at 5.30am.

The weather was fantastic; it was dead warm and we spent much of the day diving, jumping and swimming in the River Tweed to try to keep cool. When we arrived last night we were on our own but it’s clearly a well known spot as throughout the day lots of tourists and families arrived with their picnics and to play in the river too; we ended up playing with some of the other kids. Their parents were quite interested in us camping.

It was good having the tent where we could retire to whenever we wanted.

On the opposite side of the bank it’s a good four or five feet higher up for diving into the main body of the river where the water is around eight feet deep. It’s a brilliant way to begin the day with a dive into the pure clean water. Throughout the day whenever we sizzled with the heat we'd stroll across and dive and dive again into the water.

By showing off we entertained some of the parents who offered us some of their food.

Once they started to leave we built a fire and sat up late into the evening around the camp-fire having a good blether and a laugh - happy days!

Saturday 15th July 1972 Stobo Peebleshire

I got £7.30 for my pay which gave me plenty of money to buy in provisions for our camping trip.

St Cuthbert's Co-op Photograph SPL

Paul Forbes and I went down to the Store (Oxgangs St Cuthbert's Co-op) and bought in lots of food plus he persuaded me to buy two large flagons of cider!

We set off for Stobo at 7pm. There was five of us - Alison and Fiona Blades (6/6 Oxgangs Avenue); Paul Forbes; Iain Hoffmann and me.We got a lift down there from Douglas Blades in his red Austin pick-up. 

Douglas's van can only seat two passengers in the cabin so Alison and Fiona sat inside with Paul, Iain and me in the back with all the camping gear and luggage. We were completely open and exposed to the elements but the weather was great. It was a good feeling sitting in the back of the pick-up with the rushing breeze blowing our hair back.

We felt cool, metaphorically and then literally, wynding through the open roads of the Borders. After we travelled through Penicuik we passed Leadburn Junction and made our way to Eddlestone where we turned right for the drive over the gentle Meldon Hills and then on through old Lyne Station, Stobo Castle, Stobo Kirk and the tiny hamlet of Stobo.

To keep sheltered from the wind we had to snuggle up together and kept as low down in the vehicle as possible. Fortunately we didn't come across any policemen en-route, as they might well have stopped us if they'd seen us sitting in the back of an open vehicle.

Stobo Kirk James McIntosh Patrick

Stobo is a bonny spot in Peebleshire set amongst the beautiful Borders landscape. The farmer gave us the go ahead to camp in his field. After setting up the tent with a hand from Douglas we thereafter managed a swim in the River Tweed followed by a good supper washed down with cider which was a deadly combination! We were tipsy.

Paul had drunk too much and was sick. During the night he swore he’d seen a shooting star.