Our journey took us from Edinburgh to Stirling to Inverness back to Edinburgh. A big loop of the Highlands. I traveled with friends in a minivan of all things. Those of you who know me know that I believe the minivan a foul work of Satan. Despite the incredible leg room, my opinion has not changed. Minivans still suck.
But Scotland
itself far from sucks. In fact, I have
felt so at home here and the people we have met are so nice and friendly. The energy of the place is amazing. I don’t know if it’s the history or the
simple fact that Scotland
is not an endless stream of strip malls and McMansion subdivisions, that people
here take care of and value the land they live on, and are not on the constant quest
for the almighty pound. There’s a pride
here that’s lacking in America .
I arrived on Saturday morning after not sleeping at all on
the plane. It was just too damn
uncomfortable, despite lucking out and having no one next to me.
And, of course, visiting the local pub.
Then we visited the fabulous Doune
Castle , home of Monty Python and
the Holy Grail. Jenna and I had a
spanking good time running up little spiral stairs, visiting the medieval
toilet and clacking around with coconuts like idiots.
After Doune was Stirling Castle,
which is more like a museum than a castle per se. It sits high on a cliff overlooking the
valley below and was an extremely important fortress in Scotland ’s
history. The Great Hall was enormous,
the Fool looked like Eddie Izzard and the restored Queen’s chambers were pretty
impressive.
Another visit to the pub was in order. The William Wallace pub, of course, where a
very drunk older gent was flirting with Jenna and I. In front of Jenna’s parents. We could hardly keep from laughing – as the
other guys in the bar who knew this man were doing openly to his face. It was
pretty damn funny.
Day Three took us on a trek up into Pictish territory. The Picts were the original inhabitants of Scotland
and no one knows much about them except that they consistently kicked the Roman
ass. We visited some of the carved
Pictish stones by the side of a country road and visited Pictavia, a museum on
the Picts, which basically said “we don’t know much about what these people
were really like, but we’ll give it a good guess.”
After Pictavia, we journeyed to Stonehaven, where I had two virgin firsts - a bowl of cullen skink, which I mistakenly keep
calling cullen skank, and an Irn Bru.
Cullen skink is definitely the better of the two. It’s a fish chowder that is pretty damn
delicious. Irn Bru, which is advertised
as being the best cure for a hangover, is an odd tasting orange soda that
worked well clearing my sinuses for some reason. Go figure.
We only had lunch in Stonehaven as it was getting late and
we needed to go to the breathtaking Dunnottar
Castle . Holy shit.
That’s all I can say. Seeing
photos is one thing…being there, that’s something else. And it’s huge. Jenna, Bruce and I wandered around and there
kept being more and more. And the
beaches down by the ocean were fabulous.
Surprisingly, the water was not really cold.
On a nearby hill, overlooking the harbor town of Stonehaven, is a war memorial. We hiked up to it to have incredible views of the town and Dunnottar in the distance. Just beautiful.
We took the coastal drive back to Stirling
and discovered that Scotland
shuts down like it’s under an air raid at 5 pm
in most smaller towns and cities. Our
voices echoed in the streets and I expected a Walking Dead zombie to come
staggering out from an alley.
And then, of course, there was the William Wallace pub.Next will be on to Inverness!! Looking forward to sharing my adventures there with you.
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