Selected Scottish Tourist Traps

With the stresses of submitting a draft of my thesis for (eventual) examination finally over, I. and I spent some time in July catching up on real life: taking a brief holiday, seeing my family, and exploring some new areas of Scotland.

Our first adventure took place in the lovely Scottish highland town of Pitlochry, which we first discovered about fifteen months ago when we visited nearby Blair Atholl for our anniversary. Pitlochry is a little larger, and boasts several dozen hotels and guesthouses, one of which offered a pretty amazing deal on Groupon early this year. In the general busyness of life, it took six months to schedule our return visit, which was well worth it for several reasons, not the least of which was that we got an amazing room with a little tower annex (it's the one just above the blue door in this photo). The weather was stunning, and the views of the highlands layered with fog were stunning.

After out break, I went on a little adventure to Manchester, in which I took no photographs but was part of a splendid manuscript-themed panel at a big conference on the Renaissance. I met some wonderful people, caught up with some colleagues and acquaintances, enjoyed the feedback and suggestions of some excellent scholars in my subfield, and very nearly misread my train ticket for the journey home, which resulted in a panicked last-minute taxi ride to the station, where I caught my train with two minutes to spare.

By the time I arrived home, my parents had already taken Edinburgh by storm, and I was swept up into a whirlwind of sightseeing. 

Thanks to another local discount website, I. and I snagged tickets on an evening jazz cruise on the Forth River (or Firth, as it's called in Scotland) and dragged my parents out on the open water for an evening of music and stunning views. (The entertainment and experience was well worth what we paid, but the buffet was a little lame, should anyone looking for reviews of the Maid of the Forth stumble across our blog).

The boat picked up alongside the Forth Rail Bridge in South Queensferry, sailed out to Inchcolm Abbey, and then took a meandering path back to the docks, culminating in a slow spin directly beneath the rail bridge when it became apparent that the journey could be accomplished in half the allotted time.

The journey provided some stunning views of Edinburgh, where we live, and particularly Leith, our neighbourhood: the mountains on the right side are Arthur's Seat and the Salisbury Crags; the dark spot to the left is one of the islands on the Forth (we think it might be Battleship Rock, so named for the fortifications made on it during World War II), and in the middle is the shoreline of Leith (and some western parts of Edinburgh). This photo will expand if clicked upon.

A day of rest on the weekend saw I. taking my dad to a whole host of Edinburgh museums, while my mother and I visited our wonderful Edinburgh Farmer's market, located (as previously mentioned) at the rear side of Edinburgh Castle.

After trundling around Edinburgh for a few days, we left our lovely city and took my parents on a jaunt to the Highlands, where we stayed in Pitlochry again and spent some quality time at nearby Blair Castle. Photos are forbidden in most rooms of the castle, but here's the great hall:

We also took a stroll around the Hercules Garden (the statue in the middle of the wall in the photo below is of Hercules) which was lovely, if a little hot in the blazing sunshine.

 

We saw some traditional "heiry coos" (a Highlands staple) and revisted the ruins of a chapel on the Blair estate.

After a luxurious night in a Pitlochry bed and breakfast, we visited nearby Edradour whisky distillery, where I. and I had been taken by some British friends a few years back. Edradour was slightly less enthralling on this occasion, as they've revamped their tour and begun to charge rather steep admission prices. Although I wasn't impressed with the customer service, the new tour guides (once upon a time the tours were led by former employees) or the near impossibility of having a cup of coffee in leisure, we did enjoy one modification: the opportunity to visit the barn in which the casks are left to mature.

A wet day of rest and museums in Edinburgh soon passed, and the dawn of the next day saw us on a Journey to the Western Isles (but alas, only two of them) as we travelled by train to the lovely town of Oban.

My dad and I hiked up to this lovely ruined castle, the top of which provided some stunning views.

(Below is a sneak peak of our next day's entertainment:)

Later in the evening, Dad, I. and I climbed a short distance from our amazing bed and breakfast in Oban to McCaig's tower, an imposing structure from outside and one that offers some lovely views from its hilltop post.

Bright and early the next morning, we hopped on a ferry for Mull, enjoying some lovely views of Oban as we left.

(I've included the photo below because this is exactly how Scottish hills are portrayed in paintings, and it is exactly right: dappled sunlight and little dark patches where there are clouds over top. I love Scotland).

We left the ferry, bussed across Mull, and caught another ferry in the tiny town of Fionnephort:

This ferry journey was shorter than the other, but it was a lovely day and the views were spectacular.

From Fionnephort we could see our destination: Iona abbey on the small island of Iona, and one of the most rural tourist traps in the whole of the British Isles.

I. and I were slightly underwhelmed by the abbey, but one of the things I enjoyed a lot was the level of detailing on the columns in the abbey courtyard. The courtyard is one of the most highly photographed places on Iona, but the details very rarely come across in postcards and snapshots.

We had lunch courtesy of a heavily overpriced grocery store, and then discovered that there were some places to love on the Isle of Iona. In particular, I. and I. quite enjoyed the Iona nunnery (now in ruins):

I. and my dad also took a short hike to the north coast of the island, which, unlike the Abbey, is almost completely deserted. (Photo by I.)

While there, they also saw the filming of a documentary about St. Columba, and in the photo below (also taken by I.) you can see the sails of the replica ship built for the production (the boat to its right holds the film crew).

Our ferry rides back to Oban were just as lovely as the ferry rides en route to Iona, and we particularly enjoyed the views of Duart Castle (to the south of the ferry) and a rather stunning lighthouse (on the north side of the ferry).

The rest of our month has been a little less eventful, consisting mainly of job applications, some trips to St Andrews, and the opening of the Olympics. We are both still looking for jobs (currently I have applications out on three continents!), and I. is still making some decisions about future academic endeavours. In the meantime, we are enjoying the Edinburgh summer and gearing up for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, a month-long celebration of the arts, including street theatre, stand-up comedy, and a wide range of dramatic and musical performances.

All's Well that Ends Well, or, Awesome Castle Pictures in Penance for my Skipped (May) Blog

They say a picture is worth a thousand words; May was a month of few pictures but many, many words. Most of May is a blur, in my head: I forgot the month many times, the date almost every day, the day of the week on countless occasions, and even, occasionally, the year. One thing I know: there was cake.

The cake is indicative of a greater blessing: our cooker (stove), which essentially sometime around the second week of Lent (early March, for the non-liturgical) was replaced by a fancy, new, and legitimately safe version. [This is our third flat since moving to Britain, and our fifth cooker. In the Tower Flat last year, the original oven door broke, and after months of persuasion we were able to get a new stove. The workman informed us that we had been working on a quarter of the suggested power, in that the electric lines had never been hooked up properly. Our first cooker in our current flat failed to meet safety regulations with respect to the exhaust system, space around it, and counter height, and was--apparently--a proper fire hazard.] I baked a cake to celebrate; it was a modified form of Nigella Lawson's Chocolate Guinness Cake, which is genuinely one of the best and easiest recipes I have ever used. (For those of you who are worried about our alcohol consumption--or might skip this recipe because of the beer--the ethanol evaporates in cooking, but the resulting cake is very very light from the yeast and very very moist from the extra liquid. Also, it uses fewer pans than any other cake recipe I've ever used, which is a huge perk in my book).

Also in May, I went to an awesome conference in Sheffield that was all about manuscripts. It was as wonderful as my Durham conference from two years ago: I met many fellow postgraduates and future colleagues (if all goes well) and was really blessed by the time and feedback given by the senior academics in attendance. Many of the greatest manuscript scholars still living came to deliver papers, chair panels, or even just sit in on the sessions, and they were wonderfully encouraging and helpful. Also, somewhat uniquely, we had two conference dinners: one formal meal in the amazing Cutler's Hall, and a buffet in a converted mill on the waterfront. The food was great, but the really wonderful bit was the mingling: at the first dinner, the senior scholars paired up and distributed themselves--two or three to a table--among all of the other attendees. Early modern scholars are some of the nicest people I've ever met, but early modern manuscript scholars are even more so.

The Great Blur of May lifted in early June, when I sent an ambitious complete draft to my supervisor and then took a week off for the first time in months. My friend R. came to visit from the States, so we spent six days bumbling around Edinburgh, St Andrews, and Aberdeen, enjoying touristy things (and charity shops) by day and watching British television--the amazing, our favourite quiz thing, and the absolutely horrific--in the evenings. [And, seriously, if you watch those four clips, you will get what I. and I consider the best and most entertainingly awful of British entertainment].

For tourism, R. and I started at Edinburgh Castle, which has some spectacular views over the city. It was (as you can see) a very misty day.

I've mentioned, before, the cannon that fires a shot at one o'clock:

Walking is a big part of our lives in the UK, and my dear friend was subjected to many miles of it; on perhaps the sunniest day of her trip, we also climbed lovely Calton Hill, a small hill (but a very hot climb on a sunny day) with some nice views of Edinburgh from the top. This is the view to the North, including Leith, where I. and I live.

The view to the South is mostly dominated by Arthur's Seat and Holyrood Park.

To the west: the Castle (top left), Waverley Train Station (clock tower right of center), Prince's Street (just to the right of the clock tower) and the Houses of Parliament (dominating the bottom left third of the photo).

We also visited some friends in Aberdeenshire, located about halfway between Edinburgh and Inverness on the eastern coast of Scotland. We visited lovely Dunottar Castle in Stonehaven [their website photo gives you a much better sense of the awesome isolation of the castle], almost completely isolated from the mainland.

View from the castle towards nearby Stonehaven:

Former kitchen:

In the afternoon, we visited a nature reserve to the north of Aberdeen. The beaches were lovely.

The most exciting part of the reserve was the seals: the black bits on the sand are hundreds and hundreds of seals.

Towards the end of the day, we spent a rainy day in St Andrews, climbing St Rule's Tower for a stunning view of the town, nipping into cafes when it rained, and even braving the tunnels underneath the castle:

After R. departed (alas!) I spent a few days running around madly, finishing paperwork and getting the penultimate copies (God willing) of my thesis printed and submitted. I submitted on one of the wettest days in June, braving sheets of pouring rain with a thesis wrapped in rubbish bags to keep it dry.

I've spent the last week in bed with a cold, but have a busy July lined up and am looking forward to getting my camera off the shelf again. Therefore, I've designated July another "Photo Project Month," a la December, and am going to try to take and upload a photo each day throughout the month. (I also have a lot of travel lined up for July, so the uploads may occasionally occur belatedly, as internet access allows).

Come visit! You too could see castles and eat cake!