Tag Archives: Scotland

Scotland……the Last Wee Bits…

So this is it – my last night in Scotland. How better to celebrate than an evening at the most popular place in town – with a whisky that Andy, the Pub Keep, brought out from ‘upstairs’ especially for me. Balvenie Doublewood 12 year. It’s apparently matured in two woods. First in the traditional Oak Whisky cask then a ‘First Fill’ European Oak Sherry cask. We both had a rather hushed reverence as he carefully poured my dram. He then instructed me on the fine art of introducing water to the glass. Water opens up the flavor so having it ‘neat’ is really robbing you of the fullness. One ice cube is the best – slipped into the glass – not dropped – rolled around and then….enjoy! Being as how it’s a last night and all – I didn’t ask the price – just handed him my credit card… I found out later – it was free!

The weather is cooperating as well. I got to sit outside with an amazing view of the waning afternoon sun and- get this – no wind! Maybe this is my fare-thee-well from beyond the beyond… Whatever it may be – I am in total appreciation.

The last wee bits of my time in Scotland. Certainly they are too numerous to mention. As I said in an earlier post – a post by definition is not a novel so while I could go on forever – I’ll keep it as succinct as I can. Just a few things that come to mind:

Food – it’s rich, rich, rich here! Pasties, meat pies, shepards pie, fish and chips. It seems that anything that can be deep fried or smothered in butter – is! Potatoes are a staple as is Tablet. A super sweet and hard form of fudge. Bakeries are everywhere. Forres alone has three and it is a pretty tiny town. Being gluten and egg intolerant – it’s a bit like torture to look but don’t taste…sigh. Stand alone butcher shops are popular and venison is right there along with the angus. I have tried the haddock and found it to my liking as well as the atlantic salmon but not the farmed raised stuff. Venison pate with oak cakes – well – you just haven’t lived ’til you’ve tried it. The one delicacy I heard about but didn’t get a chance to partake was deep fried Mars Bars. Not Kidding! Apparently you take a regular old Mars Bar – dip it in batter – and stick it in the vat. When it floats – it’s done. Probably a good thing I wasn’t introduced. While my clothes still fit – I can say with all certainty – I’m gonna have some ‘splainin’ to do to my scale when I get home!!

Since Paris is my next stop and I will be meeting my Beloved there (read Absolutely Can’t Wait!) it puts me in mind of all things romantic. That includes PDAs – public displays of affection for the uninitiated. Paris is considered by many to be the height of romance and anything goes. Having been there twice before – alone – I can only surmised by what I witnessed. It seems as if the attitude was anything goes but it also felt a bit contrived – as if the inhabitants had a reputation to live up to. What I appreciated in my forays in Scotland was an ample albeit reserved public demonstration of ones regard for ones mate. It was lovely to see and was not just a hallmark of the young. In fact, most of the hand holding, kissing, walking arm-in-arm and door openings-by-men were by older couples. There was a gentle deference by the men towards their women – a public chivalry that I just haven’t witnessed elsewhere. And before any reader cried foul and tries to deride the happy recipients – the Scottish women I’ve had the pleasure to chat with are about the strongest lot I’ve met in some time. Not many shrinking violets here. Or for that matter – Barbie Dolls or Princesses. The climate alone wouldn’t allow it! At least as far as what I was privy to – there just seems to be simply an appreciation for each other and a celebration and gratitude for the differences between the sexes and – at the end of the day – the power of two. Perhaps I’m waxing poetic but I found it lovely to witness anyway…

Being from Seattle – I don’t have much in the way of daily reminders of my area’s history. Here the evidence is just everywhere. Cairns, ancient burial sites, Pictish forts, castles – restored and in ruins, even farms separated by stone fences hundreds and hundreds of years old. It is not out of the ordinary to see a stone archway and remains of an ancient building tucked away in a new development. Standing stones are everywhere as well. I saw many and a few of them were in pastures with little fences around them to keep the livestock from using them as scratching posts. So many of the homes in the villages are at least two hundred years old and they have the delightful tradition of naming the house. Your address would be: Lockney Cottage 212, Forres….

Another delightful tradition – dogs are allowed in the pubs! In fact, they are welcome members. I met several – large and small – young and old. In fact, just this evening an older couple was coming by the Kimberly and their spaniel jumped up the stairs to where the outside tables sit. The owner gave the leash a tug – the dog looked at him askance – the owner looked at me and said – perhaps a bit sheepishly, “it’s a cryin’ shame when your dog knows your habits that well”. Being a dog lover I’d welcome them too. I have a wonderful ‘niece’ – her name is Sophia – and as a standard Blue poodle – she’d make sure she was the belle of the ball. Of course – she is a princess by any definition so we might have to make allowances…. LOL!

Dogs reign and they are the happiest dogs I’ve seen. They cavort, chase birds ever hopefully, hop around in the surf, swim endlessly and being Scottish dogs – rocks are just fine to retrieve. No need for sissy tennis balls here, thank you very much.

Bicycles are a popular form of transportation and not just for the Lance Armstrong Wannabees. All ages can be seen pedaling away – chatting on cell phones, smoking cigarettes – and – drinking a beer (yes!) – makes me almost want to put a basket and bell on my mountain bike.

Soccer is for wimps – rugby is king. The World Cup finals is all you hear about right now and the fact that France beat England…..

Laundry is hung outside to dry and not just on the fine days. As long as it isn’t raining – sheets and socks are flapping away. Dryers are not considered a right and with electricity as expensive as it is – mother nature is put to the task. The sheets smell divine…

All in all what I have appreciated most about Scotland is the lack of pretension. I can’t quite find the right words but what comes to mind is ‘real’. Now this of course is coming through the filters of my own experiences, my own world view, my own perspectives. Another traveler may and most probably will experience something different all together. But that’s for them to discover. What I know is I have discovered a little piece of heaven on earth where you don’t have to lock your doors, people are – for the most part – down home friendly and inviting, dogs are really really happy and – you can fry up a Mars bar and no one will think the less of you….

The Scottish Highlands……Beyond the Beyond….

I could have spent most of my time on this journey just in the Scottish Highlands. While not that big an area – it’s not an easy piece of country to get around in via public transportation. As in previous posts – some of my experiences – guidebooks not withstanding. No particular order or level of importance – it was all wonderful:

There is confusion in my family as to whether or not my grandfather – Stewart Thompson – was really from Montrose. Since there is no actual proof yet that he wasn’t – I took a swing through the tiny little whistle stop town to see my roots. While not much there I did hike all the way to the Montrose Golf links to view at least one Scottish course. Established in 1562 – it’s the 5th oldest course in the world. Right by the sea with attendant constant wind – I can’t imagine what manner of corrections one would have to do with their swing to manage anything resembling a straight shot down the fairway. It’s a devote religion here with prayers and penitents alike. The country has over 500 courses – 67 in Edinburgh alone. If you think about it – it’s a pretty spiritual game. You can’t be thinking about the office, the bills, the kids, not getting any the night before, etc. or you’re going to muck it up. I wonder if my brothers know they are practicing the art of ‘being in the Now Moment’ when they play…..I can hear the groans now… see the eyes roll…

On the train from Edinburgh north I got to watch two matched draft horse colts racing the train. Sorry to say the only picture is in my head – I couldn’t get to the camera fast enough.

Inverness is the unofficial capitol of the Highlands. It was here that I was introduced to another Scottish passion – flyfishing. This particular group of senior “guys” were quite talkative – sharing their favorite flys, what they fish for most, and letting me in on the secret that they also use worms. They showed me the “Rogue Gallery” in their fishing shack – photos taped to the wall of the various catches over the years – the fish reverently lined up on the ground in each picture. But, as soon as I turned on the video – they clammed up, mumbled a few hellos and that was that….

While in Inverness I was introduced to Scottish Eagle Owls. They are huge birds and not nocturnal. Amber and Skye were on hire to farmers to keep the rabbit and fox populations in check. They can also take down small deer. When they aren’t hunting they are on display for public education and outreach. The little owl is named Willow. I’m not sure of her breed but her eyes kind of bore into your soul…..

Didn’t see any sign of “Nessie” on my boat trip up Loch Ness. The 6th century castle ruins of Urquhart were the best part. I steered clear of the gift shop -

Here’s a pic of the “Barrel House” I mention in an earlier post. Recycled Whiskey kegs….

I got to try my hand at Scottish Country Dancing in Findhorn. Quite lively, a little complicated at first and an absolute riot! Not for the faint of heart – it’s a lot of work. One poor woman missed a hand off to her next partner during a reel and ended up on the floor. So be forewarned – there are ‘flingers’ in every crowd.

I spent an afternoon at the Culloden battlefield. This was the site of the battle that essentially ended the Jacobite Rising and the clan system. The museum was structured so you got the Scottish point of view and story on one side of the building and the English on the other. While walking the actual battle field there were a line of clan grave markers. Some had coins placed on the tops of the stones. The Well of the Dead is still there and flowing after more than 350 years. It was moving in ways I’m still trying to figure out.

Ever tried dowsing? I had heard of water witching but not energy dowsing. While at Balnuaran of Clava cairns – an ancient burial site predating the Picts – I got to give it a whirl. And it works! It was pretty eerie – walking along holding these two bent pieces of coat hanger and then all of a sudden one or both of them would swing strongly in the other direction – against the wind – me following behind. Some say that there are energy vortexes all over this region of Scotland. I have no idea but the pull on those coat hangers was quite insistent – that’s the only way I can describe it – so I have to think there’s may be something to the rumor…

The wind blows something fierce here. I actually watched two seagulls flying Backwards!! Not kidding. Umbrellas are useless in the rain for the most part. They just blow inside out…

Another word on Scottish pubs. While not officially a law any more – there are a few establishments that hang onto the idea that women DO NOT belong in the bar. Many pubs have a separate ‘lounge’ for women. I experienced this first hand in Forres. Amy and I decided to head down to the Red Beastie ahead of the gang who would meet up with us later. We went into the bar and as soon as we walked in – it got quiet. One of the gents said “I think you’d be more comfortable in the lounge…” We shook our heads and said cheerfully “Oh no, that’s ok. We’ve some friends coming so we’ll just wait here” You could’ve heard a pin drop. His pal said – a little louder, “Really, we think you’d be more comfortable in the lounge.” I was about to start in with a bit of attitude but Amy stopped me, took my arm and told them she was just sure we’d be more comfortable in the lounge and thank you…. Who knew…..

Finally -The Myth confirmed – at least in the tiny village of Findhorn on the Moray Firth.

During a rousing conversation at the Kimberley Pub – the subject of kilts came up. My question was “why kilts and not pants?” One of the gentleman looked at me like I was…well…New – and said “no sewing machines”. Apparently in the really old days a kilt was just a really long piece of tartan wound about the waist and then the excess tossed over the shoulder. The pleats and other fancies came later. Easy to move about it, get in and out of, plenty of activities could be performed without the annoyance or delay of removal….. I can see a few wheels grinding on that one!

Said gentleman then told our group that the next time we saw a lad in a kilt kneeling….” Ya dinna want ta be goin’ ta stand where that lad was!” Why? “Well Lass, are ya daft? He’s just finished a wee piss!” He went on to describe the difficulties of using the men’s urinal to relieve yourself. “Well, first ya hafta swing the sporran outa the way to the back of ya. Then ya need both hands for yer business right? So what do ya hafta do then?” (pause for effect) “Ya gotta hike up yer skirt like a lass under your chin and hold it there!. It’s the only way ya can grasp your parts properly.” “so, it’s easier just ta kneel” You can’t deny there’s a certain logic in that… The Myth? Yep – there taint nuthin’ but air under a kilt…..

There is a wildness that’s hard to place or articulate here in the Highlands. But it’s there – I can feel it. An unpredictability that is oddly in alignment with where I find myself in this journey. Like a wild card is in play and all I can do is keep my hands inside the ride at all times….. Happily…

Edinburgh ….. the Gateway to my Scottish Adventure

I made the observation in earlier posts that San Remo encouraged its visitors to relax and leisurely take it all in and that Florence – by dearth of benches – urged her patrons to ‘just keep perambulating’. What struck me first in Edinburgh was the sheer number of benches. It’s not a very big city and at its core they were literally lining the streets and park walkways – side by side. Then I began exploring the city and realized why. The gentle rolling landscape from the air morphed into steep hills on the ground – lots of them. Edinburgh encourages you to rest – frequently. I’m sure I had no choice. And how did women in very high heels do it? Going downhill was just as arduous – it felt like an urban version of mountain climbing at times. In retrospect -all those hours and hours of walking in previous locations was just training for wandering up and down the many many hills in this absolutely beautiful city. And Scottish weather? Well – I’m from Seattle – enough said…

My next observation was just how friendly everyone was especially after London. When I had to ask for directions I not only got very detailed descriptions but many times it was just a precursor for a conversation about where I was from, tidbits about the best restaurants, the best whiskey, the best pubs, etc. And, a word about pubs here – I had no trouble meeting many folks who instantly included me in their little evening circle. Generally it seemed it was because an American provided fodder for disseminating all the sources of ill in the world (of course – the Americans!) But it was all in good fun and good natured plus they took as well as they gave. They were delightfully candid and had no compunction what so ever about asking very personal questions and sharing their lives with me. That whole Northern Latitude reticence just wasn’t at all the case here. Buying rounds for everyone was standard protocol and repeated often and at alarmingly frequent intervals. “No thank you – I’m ok for now” was always greeted with – well – another round. Since I am Scottish by heritage I could keep up – but just……. It was great fun.

Speaking of entertainment – as soon as I got off the bus from the airport – I was greeted with the wonderful sounds of bagpipes. Street corner musicians invariably play the bagpipes and to my untrained ear – they sounded really good. There was even a free concert by a young band who’s genre I can only call “bagpipe fusion”. While I can’t attach the video I took – imagine a guy jumping up and down to the beat of his drummer while simultaneously playing bagpipes – really well. No mean feat. I was fascinated….

Food…. Any visit to Scotland would not be complete without Haggis. Now, I have heard horror stories about this interesting delicacy. But I am always willing to try anything once and so – I tried Haggis. I found it wonderful and did not ask the contents being satisfied that there are times in life when ignorance is truly bliss. However, having shared this experience with family – my brother Chris just had to send me the recipe complete with his own interpretations. While I can applaud the Scots for being frugal as well as ecologically minded and making use of any and all of a sheep – I will be refraining from Haggis in the future. Tatties and Neeps are pretty wonderful – potatoes and turnips – but mayo on fries? I have to draw a line in the sand. This is not unique to Scotland – I was introduced to it in London and – well – it’s still faintly disgusting to me. To each his own.

Instant coffee abounds in the UK even with Starbucks on every street corner in London. I never saw one in Italy – no big surprise there – they are pretty proud of their coffee. I imagine that they may even have banned Starbucks (I really don’t know) Edinburg has a few Starbucks scattered about but I am determined not to step foot in one on my trip and so instant coffee it is. It’s not too bad once you get used to it. Really. I just can’t bring myself to drink tea instead. It is interesting that there just isn’t the variety of veggies you’d find in the states. Cost of distribution? They just aren’t that into them here? Too cold? Who knows but salads that contain anything other than lettuce and the occasional carrot or tomato are hard to come by. What I have come to appreciate on my journey is that Europeans don’t ‘supersize’ portions. Instead, presentation and quality are the focus – at least in the places I enjoyed. And the cheese here!!!! Better than Paris in my opinion.

Scottish Malt Whiskey is in its own special category. Marvelous stuff and many brands you can’t get in the states. And – its CHEAP here – even the good stuff – Yea!! Suffice to say – I have tried at least 11 different kinds and am nowhere near done yet. Thank god I am within walking distance of my digs. On a recycling note – I have seen houses made from old whiskey barrels and yes – they are round.

I have never seen this many men’s knees in the daylight in my life outside a football (soccer) game. Yes, kilts are in abundance -worn not just by older men either. Not having had a good wind twirl up any kilt in my vicinity – yet – I can neither confirm or deny that particular myth. What I find delightful is that Scottish men have felt so secure in their manhood down through the ages that they have been wearing the equivalent of a ‘Man Bag” for centuries. I asked a few men if they had anything in their Sporrans and they produced wallets, keys, cigs., etc. There you go Stateside Guys – be brave – start a trend…..

As nearly everywhere in Europe – history abounds and I found many establishments who were proud to laud their bit (is that redundant?) – here is a sample:

Having visited both the Edinburgh and Stirling castles – I will save those for another post. Suffice to say – after I seriously huffed and puffed my way to the top of Carlton Park Hill and took in the alternate views of Edinburgh and the Firth of Forth it is easy to see why some in these parts still believe in magic and the fairy people……