England and Scotland for fun
Day 7 - Friday, April 29 -
Scotland
Soooo slept in (again almost up until 2 writing up
the journal report), but opened the curtains to a GORGEOUS day!
Very sunny and breezy, and I had no idea what to wear (clothes or
coatwise), and whether to take a bath and wash my hair now when the
house was quiet (Jonny was just leaving for the day, everybody else had
gone to work), or come back early and do it before dinner so I wouldn't
be walking around in the cool wind with wet hair (later won).
Happily, I had the hang of the bus system (coming
home from town with exact change so I would have it for the morning
out, knowing which bus and which side of the street, and noting
landmarks for my stops), so I was nice and relaxed when I stepped off
the bus at Princes Street. I'd planned to go to the Landseer
Monarch of the Glen painting exhibit at the National Gallery first
thing, but it was so stunningly sunny, I decided to take advantage and
do some running around first.
While heading up the Royal Mile, I ducked into the
Writers Museum to pay my respect to those before me -- it's a nice
little 4-room, 2-level small apartment-sized museum on the Royal Mile
(rooms tucked in among other old town apartments and offices), that
honors Robbie Burns (or Rabbie Burns, as they call him), Sir Walter
Scott, and Robert Louis Stevenson. Alas, I made the mistake of
beginning conversation with the attendant in the Robert Louis
Stevenson, which took the quick out of quick visit. Probably 45
minutes to an hour passed before I got out of there, but he came across
some interesting topics along the way, one of them being that Deacon
Brodie (a famous name I'd heard of but didn't know the background) was
a famous murderer in Edinburgh who was a cabinet maker by day and
killer by night, and he was the basis of Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr.
Hyde -- AND that cabinet I was standing next to was actually made by
him and given to the Stevenson family before Robert Louis came along
(and stories from his nanny fired his imagination).
By the time I got out on the street, it was after
12:30, and I wanted to have time to see the Landseer exhibit before
catching an early bus back to Rhona's, so I had to take Mary King's
Close tour off my list for the day (would really like to do that
Monday) -- time would have been too pressed, plus I wanted to walk
OUTSIDE and enjoy the sunshine for a bit. So I wandered back up
the Royal Mile, then down, then decided to check on The Witchery Tours
giftshop if I could find it (the nighttime tours brochure encourages a
visit to their giftshop "For Ghosts, Giggles & Goodies," so why
not), found it (courtesy of the Edinburgh Tourist Office worker, who
also campaigned against Bush), but stopped off at the Christmas shop
next to it first, where I got an ornament that was a sheep with angel's
wings and says "Ewe Angel."
So into The Witchery Tours shop I went, and there
was a nice looking dark-haired young man behind the counter, quietly
working away. I looked over their cool stuff, and said happily,
"I just love your witchy history!" "My personal history?
Oh, you mean the city..." with a smile. "Nah, the witches never
let me sit with them in school." He was very nice, and I got a
t-shirt (which came in handy, as I was one shirt short of not needing
to do laundry).
Then I decided it was time to hit the gallery, so I
climbed up one hill and down another to the gallery, where I viewed the
Edwin Landseer "Monarch of the Glen" exhibit, which was really
beautiful -- all highland artwork, lots of hunting pictures (dead
stags) I wasn't crazy about, but they were still really good. The
title piece is a beautiful painting of a (live) stag on a mountaintop,
and used to hang in the House of Lords.
After that, it was nearly time to get on the bus, so
I hit a nearby ATM for some cash for the highlands trip this weekend
(accidentally hit the first "cash" option, failing to see the "cash
with receipt" option below it), then decided that the Hard Rock Cafe
Edinburgh was supposed to be nearby, and I wanted to see their pin
collection. (I knew they wouldn't have any of their Halloween pins
left, but maybe I'd like something they had.) I needed to ask
directions, really didn't feel like looking like a tourist asking for
the Hard Rock, so I ducked into the corner Starbuck's for food and
directions (figured they couldn't give me a hard time about wanting to
go somewhere trendy, since they were Starbuck's for cryin' out loud,
plus I hadn't had lunch and needed food). Three doors down, I'm
happily told.
So I cross the street (with the crowd, because we're
next to a roundabout, and I can't begin to keep up with who's turning
where), and go into the Hard Rock and look over their pins. The girl
behind the counter is very nice, and I can make out all of the pins
except a mysterious one of a woman in flowing robes and a guitar, so I
ask what that is. "Oh, that's our Halloween one!" she answers
brightly. "A vampire." REALLY? BRILLIANT! So I leave them
with 14 left instead of the mere 15 they had left, and go to wait on
the bus (and wait and wait), and head back to Rhona's, happily keeping
up with which place is my stop (tricky since it's across the street and
coming from another direction of the morning bus stop) and the bus
driver tells me anyway. (I waved to him as I'm walking away with the
crowd, and he smiled and nodded, looking as though he was checking to
see if I'd stepped off.)
Back at Rhona's, she in the backyard, appearing to
be vacuuming the grass with a strange contraption. I was about to
duck upstairs to start the bath, then realized that this -- for the
first time on my trip -- was worth opening the disposable camera
for. So I ran upstairs and returned with it, and she showed me
their cool lawnmower. It runs on electricity, and hovers over the
grass (no wheels), which makes it easier when you have rocks and uneven
steps to deal with. And the grass catcher is a basket
inside. So cool.
In the meantime, Rhona said Rod may be bringing a
colleague along to our trip to their cottage near Aviemore -- sadly an
Italian, not a Scotsman. Ah, well.
While we (Laura, Rhona, Rod and I - Jonny was at
work) were settling in for dinner in "Rhona's summer house" (what I'd
called a glassed-in gazebo and Rod laughed to hear it - and the
neighbor earned BAD marks for calling a shack), I was informed that the
Italian had better things to do this weekend than go to the highlands
(that was Rhona's interpretation - I'm sure Rod, being fair to a
colleague, would have made it more about an incredibly last-minute
invitation to go away for the weekend). Regardless, I was
pleased, because I was set to relax and enjoy the highlands among as
much Scottish as possible.
Dinner was amazing -- Scottish salmon with a lemon
hollandaise sauce, boiled tatties (potatoes), and steamed asparagus,
followed by my favorite of Rhona's desserts, a light and tasty lemon
thingy. (I happily took seconds of that.) When Rod and
Rhona stepped away to clear the table, doing their typical banter (Rod
likes to wind up Rhona, and she takes the bait with an excitable voice
every time), I took the first opportunity I'd had to chat with
Laura.
Okay, I can't remember what I've given in the family
backstory, so here it is in a nutshell. Rod (born in
Cambridge England 60 years ago this May Friday the 13th - a veterinary
pathologist, or, as Rod said Jonny used to tell his friends when
growing up, "My dad's a doctor for dead dogs") and Rhona (born 57 years
ago in Scone, near Perth, Scotland two weeks later - a
physiotherapist). They have three sons, Chris (who went by
Christopher when I first met him in '89), now 31 (his birthday's Sept
11), living in Carlysle ("on the other side of the border" - England)
because it was the only place where he could set up his photography
studio (his framed photos of the family and gorgeous Scottish scenery
are all over the house). Next in line is Alastair (who still goes
by Alastair), 29, who recently married his own Laura, now live in Bath
England (can't remember what he does for a living), and they're
expecting Rod (grumpy about it) and Rhona(thrilled about it)'s first
grandchild this November. Jonny (a new name on me, as I've heard
him called Jonathon since the beginning of time) is now 25, working on
his additional degrees to teach PE (I think in their version of K-12),
currently does set ups for conventions and things. Laura, also
25, is also a physiotherapist and works around Rhona's lot. (The
story on the flat is, Alastair and Jonny went in to buy a flat in
Edinburgh as an investment to rent out, but then at almost the same
time, they "met their Lauras" - and now Jonny and Laura have bought out
Jonny and Alastair's contract on the flat and they're just going to
live there, while Alastair and his Laura, who's English and her family
were concerned that their wedding was "too Scottish" if that's
possible, are making plans to move to Scotland after the baby arrives.)
ANYWAY, I thought Laura and Jonny were going to get
to enjoy the house to themselves while we were up in the highlands (and
I know how nice it is to get the house to yourself), but it turns out
they're heading down to Newcastle to visit her "little bro" who just
had a birthday this week on Saturday, and then spend Sunday night
(since Monday's a bank holiday) with her 'rents somewhere south of
Edinburgh. However, the house would NOT be empty, as Chris was
coming up for a course he was taking in bike repair, and planning to
stay through Sunday evening so we could all have dinner together. Yea!
So Rod and Rhona cleaned dishes (they don't rinse
their dishes - just soap them up and then dry them, which I have to
shove out of my head, but they've been doing it their entire lives and
they're fine - who knows? maybe soapy water's cleaner than the tap you
rinse dishes with), and packed up the car (Rhona advised taking the
boys' lead and just staying out of Rod's way while he packed it up the
way he wanted, which I did) -- luggage, firewood, a chair they've been
meaning to take up (they've only had the cottage a short while and are
still furnishing it - and when I say "they" I mean "Rhona," as Rod
confirmed she bought it). Rod climbed into the backseat (to
snooze, I suspected), while Rhona got in the driver's seat and I got to
ride up front to take in the scenery.
So we chatted during our 2-hour drive -- talking
American/Anglo politics (those who want to vote Blair out for his
involvement with Bush and the Iraq war are stuck, because Blair is
Labour - so if they vote against Blair, they're basically voting for
the conservative Tories, which could be worse - they, too, are stuck
between Iraq and a hard place - Labour's trying to get people to vote
Labour with the promise that Blair will leave during the term, if you
can trust a politician), the royal family (Charles and Camilla's
wedding), and the Scottish National Party.
We passed cool points of interest -- while still in
Edinburgh, we drove by the school stadium from Chariots of Fire where Eric Liddel
was shoved down and came back to win the race. On our way out of
town and across the bridge crossing Firth of Forth, Rhona mentioned
concern about the toll going up, did she have enough change? Yes,
it goes up May 1st - May Day! On Sunday! "Yes, we'll have to go
out and wash our faces in the dew," she told me). Then heading up
toward (or maybe into) the highlands, Rhona pointed "over there" to the
hills to the left of the road and said that's where J.K. Rowling's
estate was (although she spends plenty of time in Edinburgh), and
something about the place where "the big house" (the MacDonald house)
in Monarch of the Glen
is. (She promised we'd see some places where they film the show,
which I love.) We could also see remnants of snow up in the hills.
Happily, we had clear weather all the way up,
darkness falling yet the sky was just light enough to make out the
black silhouettes of the highland hills. We got to the cottage
sometime after 10 (I think), a nice little "1 1/2 floor" house right on
the road (who wants yard to tend when you're only up for
weekends). It reminded me of a modern beach house with a nice
little kitchen, bathroom, and living room downstairs, and two bedrooms
upstairs.
My room has Ikea twin beds (with long Ikea
mattresses and a long Ikea sheet - that Ikea racket), and Rhona and I
put the sheet, pillow cases and duvet on my bed. She was
surprised when I told her we don't have a lot of duvets in the
States. "What, do you still have sheets and blankets?
That's beginning to make a comeback here, I hear."
We retired to the living room for tea and biscuits
(Lapsang for me and Rhona, standard Earl Grey for Rod), then retired
shortly before midnight. The house was quite chilly and hadn't
had a chance to warm up, so Rod suggested I take a hot water bottle to
bed with me. Having never used one, I declined (plus I kept
thinking of the Jeeves & Wooster
episode where pranksters were pricking them with needles and causing
them to leak, and would have worried).
England and
Scotland for fun
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