UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 8

The day started early with a drive to the infamous Loch Ness. As most know the Scottish word for Lake is Loch and they have lots and lots of lochs...The day was sunny but a bit nippy, we kept hearing about how great the weather was for our trip and generally that was true. Beautiful Highlands rising on either side of the 1,000 foot deep lake and a large tour boat complete with a Scots narrator who would burst into songs about the Jacobites and their struggles with the English at the drop of a tam.

Our tour guide kept saying we could become millionaires if we got a picture of the cagey monster of the Loch so be on the ready. I was quite excited when I mistook a channel marker for the famed beastie. Well it was green and had a long neck...from a distance... Some of us brave souls sat in the open air top deck enjoying the breeze while our less hardy group stayed inside the warm interior of the boat complete with a "tea and snack bar" of course. But then they also were face to face with the entertainer. I now know why they wear the kilt when performing or shopping for that matter. Part of its gear is a sporran which is a traditional part of male Scottish highland dress. It is used as a pocket for the pocketless, but I just call it a man purse because they collected their tips in them.

After the boat tour, we drove about 23 miles along Loch Ness which is just not possible to capture with a mere picture.  The lock system in Scotland was quite interesting as they raise boats a total of 60 feet through a series of locks which resemble sideways gates. The boats slowly and lazily make their way up a few feet at a time to the top. After a short bathroom stop at a souvenir shop, I found a great Nessie hat complete with tail for Joseph. Actually I was quite fetching when I modeled it for our group and our tour guide insisted I wear it to dinner that night. It worked on so many levels and ages.

Driving along Loch Lomand (you know "on the bonnie bonnie banks of ") people on the left side of the coach faced a sheer drop to the lake. However the real death-defying gasps were on the right as our mammoth coach was approached by vehicles coming the other way. Six inches was generous and our skillful driver laughed as he easily cleared the obstacles. As he said "I'm bigger than them". Amen. A quick stop at a Lochside park to enjoy a wee dram of single malt scotch. Well when in Rome...Not too bad actually. Especially when paired with Werther's caramels and Scottish biscuits (cookies).

Arriving rather late, 7:30ish after a long day, we walked into a room at the Old English Hotel in the Lake District of northwest England that was sheer opulence. After the previous night's room of no frills, broken locks and hardly space to swing a golf club in Inverness, I now pen this missive sitting in a cushy robe and slippers provided by the hotel in the velvet armchair of my suite. I sip fresh Earl Grey and gaze out upon the water and the bevy of sailboats straining at their leashes in the gentle morning breeze. Sucks to be me right? Must be how Beatrix Potter felt as she wrote her Peter Rabbit stories looking out upon these same lakes, hills and sheep. Oh man the sheep-they outnumber the people I am sure. And they are delicious in a stew I must say..... to be continued

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 7

Apparently getting lost in Edinburgh is more difficult because, according to our travel guide, they pretty much invented the "grid system". That is, making squares rather than circles so one actually goes around the block and ends up at the starting place or at least that's my understanding. According to our adventure of getting lost in Edinburgh that thinking goes out the window when down by the waterfront where due to the nature of the coastline one does not have perfect squares to traverse.

 It was also in Edinburgh that one of my fellow travelers noted that my phone was not on "plane mode" thus racking up $75 in extra charges from roaming.  Ah well. Travel broadens your horizons including your cell phone bill.  I now digress to note some of the differences in spelling and meanings across the pond. Tyres (tires), take-away (take-out), diversion (detour), coach (bus), crossing the Firth of Forth into Fife  (I have no idea), caravel (campers) and my personal favorite Coos (cows). But then their cows do not look like the placid Bossie we are accustomed to seeing. These coos look like mini-buffalo with a lot of hair covering their faces. No doubt all that fur keeps them warmer on the windy highlands of Scotland.

Our morning stop today was at the ancient city of St. Andrews - home to "The University of St. Andrews" and the golf course of the same name hosting the British Open-both claiming to be the first of their kind in Scotland.  The University reminds me of U of M with the town and college buildings and dorms wrapped around each other, never clearly defining where one starts and the other ends. The golf course is one of five on the premises and it borders the ocean. That song of "Chariots of Fire" starts up in every one's head.

 Burt took over this particular tour immediately heading for the Starter's Shed. He was in search of a playbook for the old course that showed the traps, distances and best way to play each hole. He was willing to put down cash for this. Instead the "boys" in the shed were more than accommodating and gave him the book for free. We then proceeded to the shops. If there was not time to play a round, we could at least look like we could have. Hats, towels, tees, markers, shirts, etc., duly marked with the St. Andrews logo became resident in our carry-on. The grin on his face was wide as we motored away. This was the whole trip for you wasn't it I stated.  Yep.

Blair Castle was the next stop and we opted for tea (no milk please) and scones instead in the inevitable snack bar rather than wandering another castle or the "spectacular garden". Yeah well.  Enjoyed a pleasant half hour with our tour guide and then perused the gift shop. Where we found another Joseph treasure "A SLIDE WHISTLE"!  After making ourselves crazy playing with it, we presented it to our little buddy upon our return (among numerous other items) so that he could drive his parents crazy with it as well. Funny I haven't heard anything about that since we got back. I wonder if Kristen is hiding a whole treasure chest of banned and noisy items from my grandson in the name of peace.

Our day ended in an 1800s hotel in Inverness and it looked like it. Very "castley" and the room was about big enough for the bed. We got quite proficient at utilizing and stowing giant suitcases in little or no space on the trip. And heck you only use the room to sleep in for the five hours of darkness anyway. We walked downtown, well we were downtown, to do some shopping. One little problem was our normal arrival time in a town was pretty much just before or just after the stores closed. Our guide would gaily point out, you've got some time to explore the town - which actually meant explore the pubs as that was pretty much all that was open.  We did find a little shop full of touristy souvenirs, but as we were tourists searching souvenirs, that worked just fine. Finally found a Scottish crest for Pringle, my Grandmother's surname which I showed in the previous chapter.

Dinner at the hotel started with the usual mystery greens. I like salad, but I never did get what greens they were serving us and never got used to the bitter taste. Maybe the inevitable brown sauce would have worked on them. Followed by some kind of pork, I think and tatties of course. Thank goodness the places are generous with the brown sauce. I will never put down  or turn my nose up at gravy again. It literally saved my life. That seems to be where the flavor resides. Finished up with a mango filled cheesecake. Odd combination but it worked. Side note:  I weighed exactly the same at the end of the trip as when I started, so overeating was never an issue or option for that matter on this trip.

No telly in the room, no door lock that worked, no wash cloths (what is it about no wash cloths unless you ask?), not enough TP, but we slept like the dead as we were back on the road before 8 meaning luggage is out the door by 7. As it stays daylight until after 10 PM in these northern reaches, catching the 40 winks usually occurred on the coach (bus).  To be continued...

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 6

The trip into another part of the United Kingdom began today. Although it is a part of the UK it has a violent history and an eternal wish to be independent and that desire is no different today. After wars and assassinations and extremely violent English responses to Scottish rebellion it all ended with a marriage of cousins that ended the conflict and brought the Scots under the English fold. However they do have their own parliament (housed in a building in Edinburgh that the Scots believe is hideous) and they value their own banks and coin.  They will however accept the English pound/money is money after all.  Although that is not the case in Ireland who only accept the Euro.

After passing through Durham and its inevitable castle/cathedral and viewing a bit of Hadrian's wall we headed into the hills, literally, to Scotland. After climbing, climbing, climbing we pulled off into this little parking area and jumped off the bus.  Oh side note, can't remember which side of the rock it was on, but we viewed a portion of an abbey that had been destroyed twice-once by the English and secondly by the protestants.  After the second destruction, the populous of this small town basically said "screw it" in Gaelic of course and left the eerie yet beautiful lacework stone structure that carried the friars to their daily prayers intact leading to essentially nowhere. Being practical they built a snack bar and restrooms at a wonderful vantage point to the ruins.

As we stepped off the bus we were struck by a 40 mile an hour gale and spitting rain. Over the distractions of the weather, however, we heard the mournful cry of the pipes. Overcoming the weather with his bare-legged kilt attire and massive "octopus" we were greeted by what the tour guide described as probably the worst bagpipe player in Scotland. We were of course appreciative of the effort and tipped him handsomely, partially for his skill in keeping his dignity when his kilted skirts blew about him as he piped merrily into the face of the wind.  We knew we were in Scotland alright.

We continued into Edinburgh with softening weather and sunshine. Our hotel was an old Georgian manor house and we discovered later we were on the servants floor, but were still thrilled at the large room, wonderful view out the window and the ability to unpack and stay put for two days, a rare treat.  The town is dominated by its ancient castle on the water which acts as a formidable deterrent to naval attacks with its sheer rock wall going up a couple hundred feet.  Also, pretty much wherever you look in the old town it is shadowed by an ancient volcano (if you can believe that) locally named "Arthur's Seat". 

We had our first "optional" experience by attending the Scottish Night (dinner & cabaret) at a local nightclub.  Hilarious "Salute to the Haggis" was the opening act. As all were well lubricated by the bottles of wine on the table and open bar before the festivities began, no one really minded that the Robert Burns poem was presented strictly in Gaelic.  The elaborate gestures, the tray of haggis ceremoniously carried in by kilted attendants and the swordplay made the meaning very clear and very funny. In the midst of this "formal" presentation, we were served our own slice of Haggis on top of the inevitable "tatties" (potatoes) and gravy. For those who don't know, haggis is sheep entrails and other extraneous organ meats cooked in a sheep's belly. We decided it wasn't too bad tasting like an extremely greasy pate.  Or so I told myself. More wine, more beer. The evening ended back at the hotel about 10:30 and we crashed. Tomorrow late start with a local tour and open afternoon.

Our tour through town was expertly and humorously guided by a local Scot, Keith, who basically said most of what he told us was a bald-faced lie, but we would never know what was what. He ended the tour at Edinburgh castle and then led us on an extremely energetic climb to the top of the castle explaining each of the seven gates a marauder would have to fight through to reach the defenders. He described in great detail how the defenses worked and one understands the importance of armor back in the day. The final gate would lead to the chapel which makes sense that if the attackers have breached your defenses, your last act would probably be prayer anyway. Amazing how well our older guide could climb, but then kilts/skirts do not really hinder one. He showed us the cannon that they fire off at l:00 pm which apparently was a wedding gift for one of the Queens which would be the first time a wedding couple was "canonized".  I don't make 'em up, I just report it. Oh and the reason they fire off the cannon at 1:00 rather than noon is "being Scottish we don't want to waste the gunpowder....."  Keith was amazingly agile for an older man wearing skirts err kilt though you do have great range of motion.  He too was liberally tipped. We passed on viewing the Scottish crown jewels kept at the castle as the line was too long and we were afraid of missing our bus going back to the hotel.

With the afternoon free we decided to track down a woolen shop. An optional side trip was touring the Royal Yacht Britannia at the Leith harbor. Side note: as it provided honeymoon space for the royal family certain British heirs were no doubt conceived upon its royal self. That was not enticement enough to essentially tour a cruise ship. Instead we opted to pursue family connections by trying to locate the "James Pringle Weavers" shop as my Grandmother's maiden name was Pringle. James Pringle Weavers turned out to be a chain store of sorts located in different areas of Scotland that carries a lot of tartan items. I did finally locate the Pringle clan (family) crest. It depicts a seashell on a buckle with the words "Amicitia Reddit Honores" (Friendship Gives Honors). The woolen connection may be associated to a time in the 1500's when Pringles held responsibility for overseeing the shearing, storage and transportation of the King's sheep.  The seashell is anyone's guess. The Pringles were also close allies of the Earls of Douglas and served as their squires. 

However, the fun part of the trip which started out in sunshine and nice temperatures, was getting lost in Leith (western side of Edinburgh) and the day turning into cold and wind which is more typical Scottish weather. We told our tour guide to go without us if we weren't back by 2:30 and set off to find the Pringle factory. It was farther than advertised. I really should learn to read a map better. After our visit at James Pringle we were well past our 2:30 rendezvous. I said "can't be far, look there's that church tower that's at the end of the street our hotel is on". Wrong.  After circling the same five block area around the harbor for the third time now in chilly rain I was ready to wreck havoc on something or somebody. Turning around we saw one of those picturesque black cabs that the UK is famous for as you see them in every movie.  Hand out and he stopped "glory be".  I heard they were expensive but one does not quibble when lost and cold. They are an experience with the sideways doors and huge passenger area. You could roll a bowling ball up to the driver's compartment, well not really. Very cool and a definite haven against the storm. Though slight tightening of the cheeks when he says is that hotel on such and such a street?  Well you're  the cabbie wouldn't you know? Trust is a big issue when you travel.  Sure sure that's it and we did arrive safely.

Tomorrow it's off to St. Andrews and Inverness.  To be continued....

UK TRAVEL TALES CHAPTER 5

Sorry for the break in reporting. Been working on dining room remodel and busy sorting, disposing and relocating a myriad of objects and several hours and days cleaning wallpaper glue off four walls! Now repainted awaiting the new floor installation. Fingers crossed things stay on schedule.

Ok on with the trip.  I have definitely been in big cities in the US before and even 10 days in France, however I will say to fellow travelers knowing the transportation system and options and understanding the money goes a long way.  I often had to, pardon me Blanch of "Glass Menagerie", "rely on the kindness of strangers" to get me what I needed. Although we had beautiful weather, the norm kicked in with some gloom and rain.  However it never lasted that long and when on a tour, one just throws a water-proof jacket on and keeps the agenda.  I did finally understand that "we are on an island" buffeted by the North Atlantic and the Gulf Stream - two extremes.  So the usual weather was gloomy morning, sunny daytime and cool and sometimes rainy nights.  No big deal and as I hate extreme heat, I was physically quite happy.  Though when it hit the high 70's the last couple of days, the Brits literally melt from the extreme heat.  And as stated before they don't really believe in air-conditioning, it led to some sticky nights.

Our stops this day included Durham to see the castle and Romanesque cathedral. Remember the ABCs (another bloody church/castle). A rainy day but a fun walk about town. Uphill both ways oddly enough.  There was this interesting street that was so narrow it was a literal shock when a van managed to drive up the road as pedestrians/tourists covered the entire street. Common occurrence; people give way; no rush and everyone's cool. We also had another experience with the banks there as again we were denied entrance to the inner sanctum although the lobby was staffed by professional looking people in uniform who helpfully guided me through the ATM procedure at an extreme cost to me for foreign exchange rate (expected) and foreign transaction fee (surprise). As I was promised no transaction fees if  I used the sister bank Barclay's there was a bit of sticker shock but I had no choice if I wanted my cash.  Did get those fees refunded when I got back to the States though.

As it was raining...enjoyed an indoor flea market/garage sale/mall that covered a few blocks. They are big on indoor flea market/garage sale/malls there all of which have been "in existence in that spot  for 800 years.  Anyway, I got a set of marking pens for a pound and a delicious looking lemon bar for about three.  Unfortunately the lemon bar was mostly "scone-like" with very little lemon.  They do love their flour and water concoctions over there, and they do fill you up.

We stopped at a little pub in Newcastle for lunch I believe which was called

We are in England after all.  This is where I enjoyed my "Newkie" brew in a pint size.  Really need to mind your "Ps & Qs" when drinking in the U.K. lol. Fortunately I'm not driving. Before lunch we stopped to see a bit of Hadrian's Wall which at one point girdled the narrowest part of England from the Channel to the Atlantic. As with most walls, they become ineffective as you can go over, under or around eventually (hint hint) unless they are staffed every mile or so with heavily armed soldiers. There's very little left  at least in this area as the local people needed materials for fences and pens etc.  Upon looking around they noted these finely hewed stones just sitting there for the asking, or the taking probably. So Hadrian's Wall actually shows up as the outdoor decor around most of the local farms and houses.

We continued our trip north to Scotland passing golden fields of canola flowers as far as the eye could see.  Next chapter will begin with our entry into beautiful Scotland. However as we left northern England we passed a pub that said "Last Pub in England". And of course when we turned around and looked back it proclaimed "First Pub in England" . Take your claim to fame where you can.  Love the British sense of humor.   To be continued...