Some of you have been nice enough to comment on my slackness lately in getting out a weekly blog.  I was doing great until Bill’s and my trip to Scotland.  In the frenzy of getting ready to go, I didn’t do a very good job of keeping up with my blog postings.  For a while back there, I couldn’t sleep at night because my Muse was so busy stomping through my brain. When we went to Scotland, I think she had such a wonderful time, she decided to stay on for a few extra weeks!  Now it is time to get back to some more discipline in my writing.  That was the whole idea in doing a blog; it was supposed to force me to write on a regular basis.

If you happened to read last week’s blog, I wanted to commemorate the first year anniversary of my Mom’s death; however, I accidentally published two blogs on the same day.  If you accidentally hit “publish” instead of “schedule,” it’s gone.  Word Press isn’t very forgiving!  Hopefully you had a minute to read both last week. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on my skinny dipping excursions. My muse and I are both back on duty and in writing mode now.

The Train Trestle at Glen Finnan from the Harry Potter movies!

A bit more about Scotland–what a totally delightful country!  Some of you know that one of my hobbies is genealogy, and I have learned that both Bill and I have many Scottish ancestors.  Travelling around Scotland left us both with a sense of heritage and of companionship with the country and its people.

Now I do have to tell you that you definitely don’t go to Scotland for the fine wines.  Beer, yes.  Scotch whiskey, yes.  Wine, no.  We even tried the much maligned haggis!  I have to tell you, it was surprisingly tasty, especially with the whiskey cream sauce.  Now the blood pudding was another story.  It won’t hit my favorites list, but the little, flat potato scones for breakfast were totally delicious.

Clan MacDonald Castle Ruins

The Scottish Highlands were beautiful.  Unfortunately, the heather doesn’t bloom until August so we didn’t get to see those ancient, rugged mountains swathed in purple, but the gorse and the Scottish broom were in bloom, leaving the hillsides covered in bright yellows.  Goats munched everywhere, and  rock walls defined pastures and small farms.  Despite my best efforts or lack of skill, none of my photographs quite capture the beauty and majesty of those hillsides.

Of course, what trip to Scotland would be complete without lots of castles, some just ruins and some still inhabited.  We even saw Glamis Castle, — remember Shakespeare’s Macbeth — but it wasn’t even built until several hundred years after that infamous villain’s death!  Oh well, it still makes for a good story.

Highlands and Loch Lomond

One of my favorite stops was in the little village of Pitlochry where we spent two nights at the Atholl Palace Hotel.  On Saturday night there was a big wedding and reception.  All of the men and little boys were in kilts and sporrans with their dirk in their socks and their kilt pins in place.  Can’t have one’s kilt blowing up at an inopportune moment.  We learned young men are typically given their kilt pin, usually sterling silver and quite elaborate, for their 18th or 21st birthday, sort of a rite of passage.

No, we didn’t ask the “big question” about the kilts!  Our guide, Anika, did tell us a funny story about a guest on a prior tour who asked one of the Black Watch guards at Edinburgh Palace “the question” on a cold, blustery day.  His reply was classic, “Not much today, M’am!”

The Culloden Battlefield

One chilly, drizzly day we visited the battlefield at Culloden where on April 16, 1746 many of the Scottish clans were wiped out by the British in the final battle of the Jacobite uprising, destroying Bonnie Prince Charlie’s hopes of regaining the Scottish throne.  As we walked around the moors, we were left with a sense of sadness for the loss of so many lives.  The clouds and the rain seemed to fit the somber mood of the location.

One of the Clan Markers at the Culloden Battleground

Most of the dead clansmen were buried around the battlefield in mass graves with simple clan stones marking the site of the various clan burial sites.  The Battle of Culloden marked not only the end of Prince Charles’ aspirations but also the end of much of the Highlanders’ way of life.

From there we headed on to Balmoral Castle, the Queen’s summer home,

The Queen’s summer place, but she didn’t invite us for tea!

and St. Andrews.  Not being a golfer, I wasn’t overly impressed with the golf course, but enjoyed the little village immensely, especially the ruins of the old cathedral.  On to Edinburgh where we toured the famous castle.  Having traced a number of Stewarts and Douglases in my lineage,  I was struck by the possibility that some of my ancestors may have walked these same hallways.

At the other end of the Royal Mile lies Holyrood Palace and the ruins of the Holyrood Abby.  Unfortunately, due to a visit from the current Prince Charles, we were not able to tour Holyrood.  As our Scottish guide somewhat irreverently put it, “Charlie Boy is here so we can’t see the Palace.”

Entrance to Edinburgh Castle

There is still a slight undercurrent of anti-English sentiment in Scotland that seems to crop up from time to time, usually in a humorous context, but with a slight edge to it.

One night we attended the de rigour Scottish dinner with the singing, the dancing, the jokes, and so on.  The emcee was a Lowland Scot. Incidentally, I found the Lowland Scottish accent much harder to understand than the Highlands accent.  He was going through the usual  questioning about where everyone was from.   There were, as you might expect, many Americans, quite a few Canadians, and a smattering from lots of other countries–Brazil, France, China, Japan, among others.  Then he asked if there were any English there.  Only two poor souls raised their hands.  To the delight of the crowd, he told them to make themselves right at home “as you’ve been doing for the past several hundred years.”

Definitely put Scotland on your bucket list!  We certainly hope to return some day.

©2015, The Eclectic Grandma