Sheep tails!

I’m trying out a new curse word there, what do you think?

Today was taken up by bits and pieces… epic breakfast (I discovered veggie sausage, and even more different types of food than previously known – kippers, oatmeal, and mor!), shopping, wandering, Edinburgh Castle, and then a Fringe outing.

The Fringe outing was entitled “Up & Over It! An Irish Dance Spectacular.” I’m usually deeply suspicious when something has the word spectacular in the title, as they’re usually compensating for something… especially when they follow it up with extravaganza.

Being that there were only two dancers in the show, I couldn’t call it a spectacular, or extravangza. However, those two dancers were indeed spectacular. The show stars Suzanne Cleary and Peter Harding. If you’re a dance nerd, okay, if you’re Katherine, you know that they have quite a few titles between them, and danced in Riverdance and other shows.

The show was a “modernization” that didn’t always work – weird video footage, and some attempts at hip hop that were a fail, but the actual Irish dancing was mind blowingly good. They are both still insanely incredibly impossibly good dancers. They did things that I didn’t know were possible. There was a section where they both both on toe stands (hers were better, so I watched her!) that I really don’t think are possible. It must have been faked somehow. Their hard shoe was just… brilliant.

The best part… a lot of Irish dancers tap out the steps with their hands… they took this to a new level, and converted it into an argument / battle that was both hilarious and mesmerizing. I’ve been trying, but my hands don’t work as well as theirs (not even trying for feet).

Supremely cool.

I’m off to York in the morning, then London by the evening. Then it’s one last day in Londontown, and flying back to Canada on Friday.

Is that Nessie in the Loch, or are you just…

Today’s day trip was up into the Highlands. On the plus side, the guide had done the trip before many times. On the negative side, he had issues with slower moving vehicles and speed limits. It made for an interesting day.

One of the stops along the way was at Glen Coe, the sight of a massacre of the MacDonald clan. In researching the family tree, I hit a roadblock at one Margaret MacDonald, seemingly with no parents or family history. With the date of birth of her children, it IS possible that she came from the area. Certainly something to look into when I get back! The area is stunning, not much changed in hundreds of years, and bloody cold! Perhaps we’re not descended from them, I couldn’t handle the cold wind IN AUGUST.

From there we twirled around to a few places, finally landing in Fort Augustus at the end of Loch Ness. I went out on the boat tour, but sadly did not spot Nessie. I shall have to scour my video footage, just in case there’s something I can sell for the big pounds. The absolute best moment of the day came just after we got off the boat. As I came up to the road, the way was blocked. I went around, only to come to another block. I now know why they’re called swing bridges, as one was the process of turning to let a boat by.

However, the best part… the gates are down, and the bridge is moving. Suddenly there are sirens, and a police car comes whipping over the hill. He manages to brake about a foot from the barricade. The attendant turning the bridge sees him, does a bit of a shrug and throws her hands up. The policeman rolls down his window and says to us, “what can you do?” Meanwhile, the four of us waiting are debating on if the bus driver will leave us, as we could see him throwing up his hands as well. And then we wondered how much faster he was going to drive to make up the time. The boat went through, and the policeman commented that this happened more than one might think, and could “only happen in Scotland.” We were pretty much nonstop laughing at that point. The bridge finally made it back, the policeman warned us to plug our ears, and as the barricade raised, he skidded out in a hurry. I really, really would like to know where he was going. It was so not Hollywood, which would have involved him leaping his car across the banks. Ahh, Scotland.

We made a few stops on the way back to Edinburgh, including one at a memorial for Commandos who have died in service, as they train in the area. There’s a large monument, and a smaller one where people have placed individual plaques. It was hard not to be touched, especially when looking at mementos placed by families who have lost people in Iraq and Afghanistan. There was also a view of Ben Nevis, the biggest mountain in Scotland/England/Wales, which apparently one cannot see most of the time. This was my favourite picture, taken by chance. I’d passed three cyclists going up the path, and when I looked back a few minutes later, they were intently looking for a name on the monument.

The weather was sunny and gorgeous the entire day, so those of you who were off my list are back on it. As ever, check Flickr for more pictures.

Last chance…

… for shopping requests! And no, I’m not bringing home trifle!

My Tattoo

I cannot believe I almost forgot about the tattoo! No, I didn’t get drunk and make a tragic mistake. I attended the Edinburgh Tattoo on Saturday night… late Saturday night. Doing the later show meant fireworks, which always equal a good time.

It’s a mind boggling number of people that they cram onto the esplanade of Edinburgh Castle, and then dazzle with bands from around the world. This year there were people participating from Canada, the US, Tongo, New Zealand, China, Switzerland, and many more. While some may consider it touristy, I thoroughly enjoyed the show and was very happy with the quality of the performances. Everyone loved what they were doing, and it came through in the show.

I have little videos, but I likely won’t stick them up until I get home, as I can’t do the uploading time here. I think the best may be the Swiss Top Secret drum corps… especially when the lit their drumsticks on fire. You’ll just have to wait!

Yur a wizard ‘arry!

Today was taken up by a day tour to England, yes I said England, to visit Bamburgh and Alnwick castles. I’d been getting debating emails from the company saying the tour was and wasn’t running, so was happy when the bus arrived today. Turns out the guide was called yesterday to do the tour and had never done it before. You can only imagine what ensued.

The location of Bamburgh could not be more stunning. If anyone remembers, a few months ago on the news there was a story about that a tourism brochure in Canada used a picture from the area (oops)… it was easy to see why. Bamburgh rises from the most incredible sandy beach and out of the rocks. It was rather a dream, with the castle and horses riding along in the sand. As well, it’s possible to walk to Lindisfarne, being careful of tides.

Understandably, it’s been the site of fortifications for around 2000 years. For a castle that’s still lived in by the family, it does a nice job of making visitors feel welcome. I had a nice chat with one of the guides, and she firmly feels that they’re just looking after things for the public, and for future generations. I’m not sure I would be as generous as the family – they have a lovely Turner hanging in the public area, and the guide pointed out that it was worth approximately 6 million pounds… and then proceeded to poke the frame and say it wasn’t alarmed, since they figure if people have come all the way to Bamburgh, they won’t be interested in causing trouble. And there was no glass, no barricade keeping traffic away, just the Turner hanging there.

Following Bamburgh we made our way to Alnwick. Most people would recognize it as the exteriors for the first few Harry Potter movies. I was walking along in the inner courtyard when I thought to myself, how about a flying lesson… only to go a few steps farther and see a poster declaring it as the site of that scene from the first movie.

I didn’t make it around the gardens – the weather was dreadfully foul, so staying inside as much as possible was essential. Adding to the mood was the triathlon taking place on the grounds… there’s nothing like booming pop music to get one in a castle mood. I think Alnwick would be more appealing on a nice day, and without all the men in bicycle shorts. Enough said.

From Alnwick to Kelso, the Wallace Monument, Scott’s View, and back to Edinburgh. I felt bad for the guide – he did get lost a few times and we were a good 30 minutes or more late back. They didn’t give him any information, so he was rather winging it. My tour tomorrow is with the same company, and had better be more impressive.

And obviously someone out there didn’t do their good weather dance, leading to the ickyness today. I know who you are, and you’re cut off my shopping list.

Och Aye Land

Haggis! Kilts! Bagpipes! I have none of these, but I HAVE seen them all in the last 24 hours. I arrived in Edinburgh via train on Saturday, and set out on foot to have a wander. First stop was to pick up my Tattoo ticket, which was easily accomplished.

Second was the National Portrait Gallery, which… wasn’t easily accomplished. Turns out they’ve closed it for refurbishment. So, I switched to the Museum, which was mixed success. I found it easily, even with the outside covered up, but the rooms were a maze, and in the end I think I missed more than I saw. They’re also doing refurbishment, which didn’t help. It was interesting, but I actually preferred Tullie House.

Next up, the National Gallery. It took a very meandering route to get there, due to Fringe acts blocking the entrance. It was quite small, with not too many works, but there were some lovely paintings, including a gorgeous Gainsborough.

Following the Gallery I did a wander along Princes Street and some others. Where the museums and galleries haven’t wowed me, the architecture and scenery certainly do. The buildings are stunning, and the landscape a fitting background.

I’m staying at the University of Edinburgh, in their main housing complex. It’s massive, with a huge number of people also staying here. My room is probably my favourite thus far – it’s been the only one where as a student, I could see surviving here for a term. The view out the window of Arthur’s Seat is rather nice too.

And the breakfast… omigoodness. I didn’t know what to expect, as it just said traditional Scottish breakfast. If the Scots eat this much, I’m surprised anyone can still walk! They didn’t bother checking room keys, or passes, and you just go in and load up as much as you want. I can’t even begin to list it all – yoghurt, melon, berries, all kinds of fresh fruit, 6 kinds of cereal, pancakes, pastries, buns, croissants, cheese, ham, boiled eggs, fried eggs (sunnyside up OR sunnyside down), scrambled eggs, hash browns, sausage, bacon… and the FIVE kinds of juice (I had a delightful blend of pineapple and orange). Ohh, and I had the most delicious mushrooms. I am exceedingly bitter that my tour leaves in the morning BEFORE breakfast. That means only two more num num mornings. I’ll have to walk an extra 10K a day to make up for it!

Ha, there WERE walls!

Not only a castle, but Carlisle was indeed a walled city. I sure know how to pick ‘em!

The day started off with a massive downpour, although apparently that’s the norm around here. Because of the rain, I started off at Tullie House, a museum and gallery. The museum part was great – plenty of things about Romans and Hadrian’s Wall, and a fair amount of border history. Strange exhibition in the art gallery of bathing suits and huts. Really.

I wandered around the shops, did a quick drop in at the Guildhall Museum, then went to the Cathedral. It was absolutely stunning, with a magnificent blue ceiling painted with stars and suns. Another one of those mind boggling places.

The blue sky came through, so I headed to the Castle. I timed it perfectly (of course!) for a guided tour with myself and two others (who actually live here in Carlisle). It was rather interesting, with the guide debunking some of the more popular stories about the castle – “Do you really think they could fit 268 Jacobites in this room?”

Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned in the castle, in a tower that the military later pulled down. The Castle served as barracks/base until recently.

In the morning I catch my train to Edinburgh, and go to the Tattoo in the evening. Think positive thoughts for decent weather please!

Carlisle, and not the vampire

Entertainingly enough, I heard locals complaining about Twilight, and the name. The girl was convinced that the guy was just jealous of Edward.

I’m staying again at student dorms, which turned out to be within sight of Carlisle Castle. How on earth do these things happen? I’m back to a shared bathroom, but at least my room has a better mattress than in Wales… the one thing I didn’t adore about Wales.

For my first day I raced out and caught a bus to Housesteads, the site of a Roman fort. The number of the bus? AD 122. There you go, history nerds amongst us. From the fort, I joined up with the path of Hadrian’s Wall. I’d really been looking forward to it, and had been told this was the best section. Well, what do you think?

This section of the wall is one of the few to survive pillaging of farmers, and is remarkably intact. I passed very famous sites such as the Sycamore Gap, and various milecastles. At times I was quite convinced that only I and sheep remained alive in the world.

I do have skill, however. I chose a day with a windstorm that knocked out power to the area, and that I swear could do what you see in cartoons when someone holds on to something and their feet are up in the air.

I left the wall to visit Vindolanda, site of many layers of Roman forts, where they’re still currently excavating. Teams were actually working today, and visitors were free to wander about and watch.

Filled with curry and cloudy lemonade, the day ends. I wouldn’t have survived as a Roman soldier, I’m right worn out!

Chester (hee, typed Chesty the first time)

Leaving Wales was sad, especially since I never found that I ♥ Wales shirt. I hopped onto a train and headed first to Chester, yes, okay, because it has big walls. So I have a wall fetish, so what. It could be worse!

There’s a lovely cathedral, a Roman amplitheatre, garden, and of course, the walls. It was interesting for a few hours, but I don’t think I’d want to spend any extended time in Chester. Of course, I was slightly cranky as I was carrying my backpack – no left luggage at the station.

On the plus side, while transferring at Warrington Bank Quay, I had a very tasty choco bar called Drifter… looks like a Twix, but caramel and without the crunchiness. Yum!

99 bottles of mead on the wall, 99 bottles of mead

The train was a no go, but that turned out to be for the best. The bus ride to Llanberis was stunning – just before Llanberis it turns off and basically climbs a mountain. The views were stunning, and the locals live with them every day! Instead of the train, I walked a while up Snowden, to views such as this…

After leaving the mountain, I managed to find myself a castle, Dolbadern. Tales have it that the prince imprisoned his brother here for many years. Little remains, but it makes the most lovely ruin. In visiting these castles, I’ve really wished we could bring students around. Standing up a hill, able to see for 20 kilometres, really makes one understand location, location, location when it comes to castle building.

And in utter coincidence, take a look at the cheese I bought today… anything look familiar?

From Dolbadern I went to the National Slate Museum… rather as one expects, but I did have the entertainment of being locked in a room with someone that I believe would be a serial killer if he didn’t have his job at the slate museum… it was absolutely hilarious, but at the same time one could tell that there was rather a lot more going on than was being said. If tourists start going missing, I can aide the authorities. In a strange way, he was kinda cute.

Last stop before the bus was a store that sold honey related products… including mead. I don’t know how fudge, and the following came into my possession.

However, it’s obviously defective, as the bottle is now empty. So sadly, sadly empty.

Tomorrow it’s the train to Chester for a few hours, then another on up to Carlisle. Hadrian’s Wall beckons!