The adventure to Scotland was amazing. And terrifying. But mostly amazing.
We arrived in the evening on Saturday, and after settling into the hotel, set out to find a pub. There actually seem to be fewer of them in Edinburgh than in in London, but we ended up on the Royal Mile and found a lovely old place called The Mitre Bar. The Royal Mile is the street that runs from the old castle to Holyrood Palace, near the harbor. Gorgeous old stone buildings, one after the other, make it feel as if you’ve stepped into another time. In London, there seems to be a more diverse mix of the different time periods, especially the modern. Edinburgh’s city center is a total time warp.
 |  |
The following morning we rented a car and drove to Aberfeldy. This is how I know my husband and daughter love me. They climbed into the little Peugeot without a whimper, and never once screeched in terror while I drove through a city I knew nothing about, into countryside on the highway at 70 miles per hour, then to tiny country roads barely wide enough for two cars to pass. On the wrong side of the road. Shifting with my left hand (harder than you’d think!) And when we drove home in the dark and met a sheep and a deer on the road – no screams. Not even when we got lost in Edinburgh trying to return the car. That is the most terrifying thing I have done in, well … maybe forever.
 Negotiating traffic from the wrong side of the road (and car) |  Country roads where you couldn’t see if a car was coming, and the road was barely wide enough for two. |
I think maybe Greg took these photos so that there would be photographic evidence, in case of disaster, that it wasn’t his fault.
The drive to Aberfeldy was stunning, and it’s a picturesque little town perched at the lower edge of the Scottish Highlands, with snow-capped mountains in the distance.
 |  |
 |  |
We arrived a bit early for our tour of Menzies castle, so we stopped at the local pub. (What?) Of course Greg and I had to try the Aberfeldy scotch. This is made by Dewar’s, fellow clan members.
 |  |
 |  |
Crossing the river Tay on a gorgeous stone bridge, we entered the lands of Castle Menzies. Alex had arranged for a private tour of the castle with the director of the Castle, David Henderson. What a wonderful, gracious gentleman he turned out to be! Not only was he a good story teller, he spent four hours showing us the castle and even served us tea and biscuits. My head was absolutely swimming by the time we left. Just a few pics from the castle here.
 Outside the oldest part of the castle |  The original front entrance |
 The marriage plaque commemorating the marriage of Ian Menzies with Barbara Stuart in 1571 – the oldest part of the castle dates from about then |  David had a fire in the kitchen hearth lit for us |
 David explains the area that the clan once controlled |  Our jolly storyteller |
 Banquet hall in the newer section of the castle circa 1840 |  My cousin Lance, I think. |
On Monday we started with a tour of The Scottish Whiskey Experience, located near Edinburgh castle. (Stop it, I know what you’re thinking!) It was sort of like Disney World for scotch lovers. You climb in a whiskey barrel and ride through the building listening to the story of how scotch is made. Reminded me of the haunted house ride at Disney World. Then at the end, we listened to an explanation of the four different areas of Scotland and the types of scotch they produce, and got to sample our choice. We just so happened to arrive on the last day of a tasting festival on the top floor, so we also got four tokens to sample their wares. Also, a viewing of the largest collection of scotch whiskey in the world. This is actually a small portion of it:
Our next stop was the castle. A fair number of those pics turned out blurry – wonder why?
 |  Fireworks ready for the following evening |
 At the top of the wall, overlooking the city center |  |
 Greg really wanted one of those swords |  |
That night – the torchlight procession through the streets to the top of Calton Hill where we burned a Viking ship. Don’t ask me how it got to the top of Calton Hill.
 |  Looking back at those behind us – the entire procession stretched for miles |
 |  |
Looks a trifle dangerous, eh? Well, it rather was for the young man in front of Alex who stopped suddenly to take a picture. She happened to be looking the other way, and if he hadn’t had his hood up, he would be missing some hair now. I really wish I’d taken a picture of the scorch mark it left on his hoodie, but I was too busy trying not to wet myself from laughing so hard! Best part? He turned around and apologized to HER!
NEW YEAR’S EVE!!!
A little shopping first, a tour of a working woolen mill where they produce clan tartans, then a hike back up Calton Hill in the daylight. The harbor is lovely from that vantage point.
 The harbor from the top of Calton Hill |  Holyrood Palace in the distance, heather blooming in the foreground |
 Several follies and monuments at the top of the hill |  Arthur’s Seat, as seen from Calton Hill |
That evening was the street party, with lots of stages set up through the center of town, and more people than I ever care to come into contact with again. As we waited on the street below the castle for the fireworks to start, squished against thousands of 
And the grand finale:
New Year’s Day we took the train back to London after an early dinner at the White Hart Inn, the oldest surviving inn in Edinburgh. Alex returns to work for two days and we were given strict instructions NOT to break London while we were unsupervised.
I can’t make any promises.
No comments:
Post a Comment