Trip to Scotland Part Seven: July 2 - July 5

Here is the final installment of Grace and I and my family's trip to Scotland...

On the morning of July 2, Grace and I said our goodbyes to my parents and sister, who left after breakfast. We were on our own again, just us and the cats.

We spent the first morning in Starbucks, reading some books and taking it super-easy – it was a really rainy day. After a long lunch we wandered over to the Royal Museum of Scotland. This museum is attached to the Museum of Scotland and is a collection of artifacts from around the world, dead animals, and other odds and ends. Or, at least I think it is. It was also closed until 2011 (again!). So we didn’t actually go in. Instead, we went back to the Museum of Scotland. We were half-heartedly checking out the stand-in exhibit for the Royal Museum of Scotland (sort of a ‘best-of’ collection stuffed into one room), but we weren’t really feeling it. Things were looking dull until we headed down to the basement, where there was an exhibit about the geology of Scotland which ended up being really fascinating. For instance, did you know that Scotland and England are parts of different continents? Well they are! No wonder they hate each other! They rammed into each other a long time ago, and the collision made a huge mountain range which has eroded over millions of years until all that was left was, wait for it, the highlands! Amazing!

That night, we went to see the Hangover. Laughs all around.

The next day, we got up sort of early... well, not as early as we would like... and boarded the train to Glasgow. Glasgow is actually the biggest city in Scotland, and it does feel like a more typical big city. It has a grid of streets, for instance, instead of Edinburgh's spaghetti mess of streets. Also, it's hilly. Surprising for us, as we have gotten used to flat old London.

Anyway, we arrived and headed off to see a contemporary arts museum, but on the way there, a bird pooped all over me (nasty brown poop too, not the white stuff), so we had to pop into a charity shop and buy a new t-shirt for me. It was a bit short, because I am tall.

By now it was closing in on lunch and we realised that we had not left early enough to do all there was to do in Glasgow. There were three art museums to see, an architectural tour and a cathedral, at least. And most importantly of all, we had to be done by three o’clock or so, so that we could watch Andy Murray play Andy Roddick at Wimbledon in a pub. This was a very big deal to us.

So we had to prioritise and we decided on taking a mini-trek out to see the famous Burrell Collection, because I had heard good things about it and it sounded very unique. In short, what it is, is the collected art and antiquities of one Mr. Burrell, a shipping magnate, who bequeathed his stuff to the public. However, he had a clause in the bequest that it had to be housed in a building in nature, away from the pollution of the city, which he apparently was not a big fan of. So the city just sat on the collection for a long time, until a suitable place was finally built in the 80s. It’s a beautiful modern building in the middle of a park some 16 miles from the centre of town. We took a ten minute train ride, and then had to walk another twenty minutes, most of which was down asphalt paths through parkland forest before we came upon this big glass building in a clearing. Right as it started to downpour.

We made it inside, where we had a good afternoon. Really, the best part about it was the building. You’re inside, looking at paintings, old sculptures, facades from cathedrals, and all the while, there are these giant glass walls that look out onto rainy grass and forest. Grace’s favourite bit were the four recreated rooms from Burrell castle... essentially they gutted four rooms of this guy’s castle and placed all the walls, floors, ceiling, furniture and odds and ends into rooms inside the museum, which is modern.

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Through the glass on the right, a recreated castle room. Through the glass on the left, nature.

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Grace likes this stuff.

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The cafe.

So, after we had seen it all, we had a bite to eat at the cafe, trying to wait out the rain, which failed. Eventually, we had no choice but to walk back to the train, and head back to central Glasgow, where it was still raining. After a bit of searching, we found a pub, and watched the game. It was a work day, it was four in the afternoon, I wasn’t driving and I was having a pint.

Murray lost, and Roddick won, much to everyone’s shock. Afterwards, Grace and I headed back home on the train to Edinburgh, where I spent a great deal of time researching where Grace and I should walk on our final full day in Scotland.

Next day: We decided to go to North Berwick Law, the place we had tried and failed to go to with Hannah. It’s a volcanic outcrop (actually, we learned from the Museum of Scotland geology section that it is, in fact, the dried and hardened lava from an ancient volcano’s tube... kind like a plug, or a cork from a wine bottle... and now that’s the only bit that’s left). It just sticks straight out of the plains around the seaside village of North Berwick. One of the attractions is that it has, on top, a whale jawbone (it’s tradition to have one up there...) and old forts from Napolean. Plus you can see Bass rock from there, which is another volcano plug that is now home to birds and birds. My walking around Edinburgh book said it was a short, steep climb that ‘really should not be missed.’ Most importantly, it was reachable by train.

We made the train this time with no trouble, except for some 30 kids who got on the train with us dressed in crazy costumes. They were going all the way to North Berwick at 10 in the morning for some kind of beach party I guess.

Anyway, we made it and the walk was as described. (Very) short, steep and worth it.

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Summit... there's the whale jawbone. It's for luck with fishing or something.

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Not a lot of gardening on top. This bench was pretty overgrown. One of the Napolean era forts is in the background.

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The flower on the left is growing through the boards of the bench.

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Blue waters off North Berwick.

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The white rock is Bass rock. The little white specks on the water are sailboats.

One thing we had not expected was how lovely North Berwick, the village on the sea is. After we climbed down from the law, we headed over to the beach for a walk along Scotland’s sandy shores.

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I originally put up another version of this photo where a naked kid ran into the frame, but I decided to pull it down... you never know who's looking...

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The bulge is North Berwick law. It just pops out of the flat ground.

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Another view of Bass Rock.

By now it was closing in on four, so we decided to head home.

That night we couldn’t find the cats for about an hour, and I started to get paranoid they had jumped out the window of our third floor flat. But, it turned out they were just sleeping in the closet.

There’s not much to say about the last day. We went to Starbucks again for the morning, and come home around one to start packing for our 6 o’clock train. We watched the finale of Wimbledon, and cleaned the flat up (which turned out to be a bit of a job). Finally, we called a cab to take us to the train station, some of the last flourishes of our holiday (we would never normally call a taxi). On the train ride home, we eagerly followed the updates on the Wimbledon finale, which was still going on. My iPod touch got wireless internet on the train, so we just saw the live score update, but had no play by play. But we still learned when old Federer had won after ages.

And before too long, we were back in London King’s Cross. It was about 10:30 and we called another cab to take us back up to Highgate, where we live. We piled home, and before long, we were in bed. Back to work the next day.

THE END

Trip to Scotland: June 30 - July 1

Here's the sixth post about Grace and I and my family's trip to Scotland...

We had a definite plan of action for our day with Hannah. We were going to do the Chainwalk, from our book on walks around Edinburgh. This walk involves a section along seaside cliffs that must be traversed by hanging onto chains that are strung along the side of the cliff. There are footholds, but they are too narrow to stay on without holding onto the chains. If the tide is high, the sea rages below you while you hold onto these chains. It sounded fun to us, but we didn't think Mom and Dad would be interested, so we saved it for a day with just Hannah. I should add that, if it sounds dangerous, the pictures on the internet show kids doing the walk. But then again, maybe Scotland's kids are built of tougher stuff than ours, since the helpful lady from the hotel in Glencoe had said "18 miles might be a bit much for the wee ones" a few days earlier, when we asked her about the difficulty of doing the Devil's Staircase walk.

But there was a problem. We had to return the car that day and the walk was ages away by public transport, some 2-3 hours each direction. After spending the better part of the previous day in a car, we had no desire to repeat the experience. So we scratched that plan and instead decided to hike up North Berwick Law, a bit of old volcano that our book said "should not be missed." This one was reachable by a quick 30 minute train ride, though the train only left once an hour.

But there was a problem. We missed the train by minutes. The next one wouldn't be coming until 2:40 pm, and that meant we would have to return on a rush-hour train, which costs extra. We decided to abandon the plan.

Instead, we hit upon walking up Arthur's Seat, the extinct volcano in Holyrood park, central Edinburgh.

But there was a problem. Grace was not feeling 100%. A strenuous uphill climb didn't sound like a good cure for her mild sickness.

So Hannah and I abandoned Grace to a Starbucks and headed up the hill/mountain ourselves.

On the way, we started to notice more and more well-dressed people. Men in formal kilts, women in dresses and fancy hats. We had begun to see them in the train station, but assumed they were all returning from a formal event somewhere else (the best dressed award goes to a guy we saw in the tickets line whose suit was black on one half and white on the other, like Two-Face. He had a matching black/white hat, and one black shoe, and one white shoe).

Anyway, all the people seemed to be converging on Holyrood Palace, the Queen's official residence in Scotland. Eventually we learned that there was a royal visit and garden party scheduled for today at the palace. As we headed up Arthur's Seat, we saw the unusual sight of hundreds of the best-dressed society standing in line - like COMMONERS!

From Scotland 2009

The Aristocracy waits to get into...

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...the Garden Party!

The walk up Arthur's seat was not too difficult. It was certainly steep and we were gasping for breath, but it was over in 45 minutes and we had great views of the city and the garden party, even if it was a bit hazy.

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Arthur's Seat, from the foot...

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Hannah triumphant.

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Summit.

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Arthur's seat, as seen through the doorway of an old ruin.

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An Album cover?

We headed down after enjoying the views and some food for a half hour or so, and met up with Grace again, who was feeling recovered by now. After a long hunt for the perfect dinner, we set upon frozen pizza for Hannah and me (Hannah has joined me in vegetarianism!) and roasted chicken for Grace and the parents (Grace finally had other people she could eat the meat with!). We finished up Braveheart that night, for the benefit of Hannah. My parents came back that evening from a great day in Glasgow - they reported that a tour guide said Braveheart's version of history was "absolute rubbish." We watched it anyway. FREEEEDOM!!!!

The next day was Grace and I's wedding anniversary (three years!), plus the last full day with my family. We got an early start and headed out to Linlithgow Palace (actually a ruin now) to take a gently (no hills) walk around the loch. By noon, we were in the unusual position of having already finished our walk for the day. We decided to finish up on some shopping odds and ends. Hannah got her shoes. Mom found her cashmere. I found some of that dangerously tasty honey-infused whiskey. While out, we got caught in some thunderous rain without our umbrellas. We were all helpless until we remembered that this was what taxis are for.

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Linlithgow Palace on the water.

That afternoon, Grace and I watched Wimbledon, which has become an annual tradition. This year, Andy Murray was a British phenomenon, the first Briton to have a shot at the title in 70 years. And he was Scottish, so the media was in a raving frenzy about him. That afternoon we watched Murray take apart Ferrerro. I remained convinced that he was not ready to beat Roger Federer, who, in my mind, has become elevated to something like Jedi-status.

The main event of the day, however, was Grace and I's anniversary dinner. Overwhelmed by choice, Grace and I had impulsively made reservations at the Forth Floor, a nice place on the top of a fancy department store that had good city views and served modern British/Scottish food. We didn't know how nice it was till we got there.

I think my family felt a little out of their element. There was a wine guy. There were lots of silverware. They put the nap on your lap for you (does anywhere in Iowa City do that?). Hannah wondered if they would feed us too. My dad asked for what he thought was a manly Belgian beer and ended up with a raspberry beer (which Grace graciously drank for him). Grace and I were a bit more used to the fancy stuff for two reasons. First, Cambridge was very fancy-schmanzy. Dress codes for dinner and all. Second, we had gone to a fancy restaurant the year before for our anniversary, called L'escargot (a gift from Mom and Dad). Two things hardly makes us connoisseurs, but I guess our advice in such places is to be confident and just fake it, like you belong there.

Mom and Dad ordered sea food, Hannah and I had the vegetarian option and Grace had something special - Highland Venison with quail egg! She says it was good. And we had a good time at the restaurant. Eventually dad located some beer more his style. Lovely anniversary gift.

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Farewell!

(Grace's Two Cents: Ha ha, Matt's not a vegetarian anymore!!! They gave us an amuse bouche (pre-appetizer) of smoked salmon and he ate it, because they just plopped it down in front of everyone. That means he's not a vegetarian anymore (no matter how much he insists to the contrary).)

(Matt's Response: An Anniversary indulgence, nothing more! I didn't ask for it, they just plopped it down and the fish was dead no matter what I did so I ate it! This is not taking the finger out of the dam! And it didn't even taste THAT good!)

(Grace's Response: That means you think it was 'good' to some unknown extent. Ha ha, soon it'll be burgers and steak that don't even taste 'THAT good'.)

Trip to Scotland: June 28 - June 29

Grace and I have been on holiday in Scotland over the last two weeks. This month, I'll be really busy with freelance, so we're going to parcel out a set of seven blog posts about the trip over the next week or so. Here's the fifth...

After driving out of Edinburgh on Friday and Saturday, we were ready for a break from travel, so we stayed in on Sunday. Besides car exhaustion, one reason for the decision was because my parents really wanted to go to Glencoe, one of the most dramatic areas of the country, and just reachable in a daytrip by car. The famous "100 Countryside Walks Around Edinburgh" book did not extend that far, so we needed an extra day to get the scoop on the place in order to maximise our time out there.

So, on Sunday the 28th, we stayed in and headed out to a late 11:30 church at St. Giles Cathedral (part of the Church of Scotland... I think). The service had plenty of differences with American services. For one, the sermon was about, among other things, how in the modern world, unbelief had to be taken for granted when meeting people, in contrast with the past. In the US, I think you probably shouldn't assume what someone believes, but guessing Christian is safer than guessing non-religious. Over here, it's the reverse (only 5% or something of people go to Church every week).

From Scotland 2009

Inside the Cathedral, after the service.


The other major difference I noticed was the music, which is very traditional. The melodies are completely unfamiliar to me - I'm not sure I heard anything resembling one. There was a choir dressed in traditional robes that did most of the singing, accompanied by a gigantic organ. The same organ performed the closing melody once the service had ended and it was straight out of a horror movie. Very dark, deep, loud and scary.

After church, we worked on our spirituality by going shopping. First stop was the whiskey shop across the street from the cathedral, to see if there were any free samples - no luck. Afterwards, we had a couple of competing motives. Hannah and Mom wanted to look around at shoes and cashmere, among other things. Dad wanted to look at books and potential souvenirs. I wanted to look at books on Glencoe, so we could figure out where to go the next day. Grace wanted to pick up some things she had dropped off at a tailors a few days earlier. The group had mixed success at these goals. But we did buy the movie Braveheart, which Hannah had never seen.

After recharging over some tea, we all walked down to the Museum of Scotland, which is all about, wait for it, Scotland. Things were learned.

From Scotland 2009

That's a big sword.


After the museum, we headed home, where Grace and I cooked for everyone. Hannah learned a completely false history of Scotland's struggle for independence from Braveheart that night, while I pondered what we should do the next day. The most recommended walk in Glencoe was one over the memorably named Devil's Staircase, a mountain pass built by soldiers, many of whom died during its construction.

The problem was, the walk was 9 miles - each way. I wanted to see if we could shorten it down to my parents' preferred 4 miles, by starting at the beginning or end and going only 2 miles out, then turning around. I eventually called a hotel near the start to ask someone who had done the walk. No luck. The walk was:

3 miles through relatively flat land --> 3 miles over the devil's staircase --> 3 miles through relatively flat land

The hotel lady helpfully suggested we could walk the full 9 miles and then catch a bus from the end to a big (for the highlands) city, and then take a second bus from there back to the hotel, where we would be parked. That didn't sound plausible, given it would take 3 hours just to reach the starting hotel from Edinburgh, and then we would have to walk more than twice as far as my parents were used to over a mountain nonetheless, and then take the not-so-swift Scottish public transport back to our car. When I said the bus would probably take too long, she said,

"Well, you could walk there and back, but the full 18 miles might be a bit much if you have wee ones with you."

So we had to find something else. Because the full 18 miles would be too much for the wee ones. Eventually I decided we would drive to the relatively big town of Fort William, and then just ask someone at a gift shop the best 4 mile walk in the area.

We got up admirably early the next morning, and were on the road by 8:30, much better than our noon average.

But oh, google maps lied to us about the time. Google maps estimated we would be there in 2 hours and 50 minutes. It ended up taking an hour longer. Worse yet, we had a very small car by American standards and I had forgotten that driving in Scotland once you get off the scant 4-lane highways is a nauseous affair. Mike almost threw up last year (but managed to fall asleep instead). The problem is you quickly find yourself zipping along at 50-70 miles per hour on tiny two-lane roads that are not straight for more than 200 yards most of the time. They bend up, down, around and so forth, throwing everyone but the driver into dangerously car-sick territory. And this goes on for hours. A steady speed is a laughable dream, with some major corner coming up three or four times a mile with huge "SLOW" signs painted on the road and "Reduce Speed Now!" signs on the side of the road (my favorite sign is the one that just says " ! - 300 yards ". I guess it just means "get ready for SOMETHING in 300 yards!").

From Scotland 2009

Driving in Scotland is cool.


But, we persevered, and arrived in Fort William, which sits on an enormous loch, around noon. After some lunch, I asked tourist information for the best four mile walk, and they had a ready answer - the falls of clyde. We had to drive another 30 minutes to the start of the walk. This driving involved some of Scotland's famous one-lane roads, where there are occasional areas to pull over in case you run into someone going the other direction.

Still, despite the complaints, it was a beautiful drive, with mountains looming on either side of us. The walk was good too, eventually taking us into a big gorge topped by a waterfall.

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The new camera can do the blurry water trick.

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Excited.

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Family photo with waterfall.

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Flaunting my waterproof hiking boots.

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Wading in.

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The falls we're heading towards.

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Walking in the highlands.

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Crossing the river (almost - he turned around halfway).

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At the foot of the falls.

After a few hours enjoying Glencoe, we reluctantly got back in the car and braced ourselves for a two-hour (according to the lying google maps) drive down to Glasgow, where my parents would be spending the night.

But the drive went really well this time. There was almost no traffic and the morning fog lifted so we could see amazing scenery. We passed through desolate mountainscapes with scarcely another car in sight and no villages or towns for dozens of miles. It was a lonely landscape.

Eventually we made our way down to Loch Lomond, the largest freshwater body of water in Great Britain. We drove alongside it for nearly an hour, so long was it's coast, but the roads were nice after awhile, and entry into Glasgow was pretty easy. Google maps lied to us again though, this time telling us to keep our eyes peeled for a fictional exit onto the A-198 in Glasgow. No such road exists and as we started to leave the city limits we realised google maps had deceived us again. I think I should add at this time that google maps was also completely and utterly useless for driving in Edinburgh, because construction meant none of the roads it directed us to were available for travel.

Anyway, we pulled off at an exit, and Dad called for a taxi with the help of a friendly ice cream van. Grace and I took Hannah back to Edinburgh, while my parents spent that night and the next day in Glasgow (Scotland's biggest city). Back in Edinburgh, Hannah and Grace ordered us some Indian food we had been craving and we all settled down in front of the TV for the night.

From Scotland 2009

Trip to Scotland: June 27

Grace and I have been on holiday in Scotland over the last two weeks. This month, I'll be really busy with freelance, so we're going to parcel out a set of seven blog posts about the trip over the next week or so. Here's the fourth...

When it comes to walking terrain, Scotland (and to some extent, the British Isles) offers a few unique things: small mountains, lochs, farmland, historic stuff, beaches and seaside cliffs. The walk through Dollar Glen took us up some big hills (probably not small mountains), around historic stuff and through farmland. Today, we decided to head to the sea and explore a series of seaside cliffs - something you just can't get in Iowa. So, after a bit of a late start, we piled into the car and drove 70 minutes out to the tiny village of St. Abbs. Our book, "100 Countryside Walks Around Edinburgh" described this walk as "a long drive, but worth it." They were right!

We started off on a four-lane motorway, then cut off onto a two lane backroad that took us along the sea, and then onto very narrow country lanes that brought us all the way out to St. Abbs, which sat at the foot of a nature reserve. The walk described in the book was actually 8 miles, but we cut it in half by starting midway through - after yesterday's walk we realised 4 miles was more my parents speed than 8.

We knew the walk would be good, because we could see the sea and undulating hills when we started, but it turned out to be really fantastic. After we passed along a field of wheat (?) we suddenly emerged out on a big rocky bay. The rest of the walk would be like this. For this blog post, pictures are worth a 1,000 words.

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Amber waves of grain?

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Getting started...

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Erosion...

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Taking a nervous look.

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Looking back to St. Abbs.

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A little bay.

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Exploring the little bay.

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This way is holy.

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Hannah looks down...

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Mom and Dad on the cliffs.


At the half-way point, we reached St. Abb's Head, a working lighthouse. On the other side was something really incredible, the nesting grounds for thousands of birds. They stained the cliffs white with their poop. I've never seen so many birds in my life. I wished my camera had a better zoom lens.

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The first sign of the bird kingdom.

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Around a bajillion birds, most too small to see. The white is their poop.

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Zooming in on one pile of rock the birds have taken over.

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Scottish atmosphere.

On the way back, we left the cliffs and walked along a less-than-pristine loch with a lot of algae growing in it. There were some ducks, which dad fed.

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A little shed on the loch.

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A little loch.

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Feeding the birds.

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Chasing the food.

After the walk, we headed down to the slightly bigger seaside village of Eyemouth to grab dinner at a seaside pub called The Tavern. The Tavern had been recommended by the Eyemouth tourist board as a great family friendly restaurant on the sea, but someone must have bribed someone, because the place wasn't even open for dinner. Instead, we headed over to another pub, the Ship Hotel, for dinner that was near the sea, if not exactly on it.

After dinner we drove back in thick, thick fog (very atmospheric) and decided that we wouldn't go for a walk the next day because we were all tired of long drives. Instead, we would use the next day to plot an even more ambitious move for the day after tomorrow - a looooong drive to the highlands.

From Scotland 2009