Fisherman
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There we were, my wife and I, standing on the north bank of the River Tweed in Coldstream looking over at the south bank and England. The mighty Tweed has provided a natural border between Scotland and England for centuries. I had driven over the bridge that takes you over the border once before, and said that one day, I will do what Burns did, and walk over it. Well we did and we walked to the first village in England after crossing Cornhill on Tweed. We ventured into the local shop for a coffee and a snack. What was on the menu, but haggis shaped like a scotch egg covered as if a scotch egg in breadcrumbs. I joked with the lady behind the counter asking if they were allowed to sell haggis.