Another Day of Grace: europe

Showing posts with label europe. Show all posts

Monday, June 12, 2017

Continued from...
Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
Part 5 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/the-haunted-graveyards-and-underground.html
Part 6 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/04/a-tour-of-edinburgh-castle-and-solo.html
Part 7 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/04/farewell-edinburgh-hello-highlands.html
Part 8 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2016/11/making-my-way-to-lovely-isle-of-skye.html
Part 9 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/05/so-long-for-now-beautiful-isle-and-onto.html
Part 10 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/06/lessons-in-scottish-history-and.html

My last morning in Scotland was hectic despite the fact that, thankfully, the hotel fire alarm did not go off during the night. I quickly showered and was disappointed to discover another issue with the room; a shower door that only closes half way and therefore results in the entire bathroom being flooded. I had to pass it off as not my concern as I was in a rush to catch my plane. Besides, there were so many issues with the hotel room that I just couldn't be bothered to deal with the front desk anymore by that point.

I ate a quick breakfast before checking out and made the five-minute walk to the airport. How on earth a five-minute walk turns out to be actually twenty is beyond me. There I was walking while half asleep, cold and carrying all my luggage after being told the hotel was a five-minute walk from the airport. That's quite the exaggeration. In case you're wondering, I gave this hotel one star on Trip Advisor and I don't even think it deserved that for the inconveniences I endured. I wish I could say my misfortunes that morning ended there but sadly, things only got worse.

I checked in for my flight and made it through security with more than enough time to find somewhere to relax and have a coffee. I went to my gate and checked my flight status, found a Starbucks that wasn't too crowded and, with my hazelnut latte in hand, took a seat in the corner. I was about half way through my latte when I noticed that my shopping bags with the scarves I had bought for my sisters and my coat were nowhere to be found. Thinking I might have left them near the counter when I was ordering my coffee, I asked the barista if she had found anything but she hadn't. I raced through the airport backtracking ever step I took since I arrived, asking anyone who would listen if they spotted the items anywhere. I spoke with a security guard, a woman working in the duty-free shop and even someone at the main security area. No one had found anything. By this time I was hysterical. The scarves were not cheap and I made a significant effort into finding just the right ones.   The coat was one of my favorites and it too was not cheap.

I frantically wandered around in circles looking everywhere. I'm must have roused suspicion in some people as I was getting some strange looks. I was also worried that if someone found the bag unattended, I could be in some trouble. When I spotted two police officers chatting near an exit, I approached to let them know the situation but didn't make it to them because something on a nearby bench caught my eye. There, sitting in plain view surrounded by people waiting to board their plane was my untouched belongings. I bolted towards the items and grabbed them from the chair while loudly exclaiming "I must have left this here hours ago". The look on the faces of everyone in the vicinity said it all; who is this crazy woman grabbing unattended belongings from an airport bench and why is she talking to herself. Thankfully, no one alerted security and I boarded my plane soon after without incident.

The winds must have been in our favor that morning because it took an hour and a half less time to fly from Glasgow than it did to fly in. The only eventful thing to happen on that flight was a flyover of of a large and snowy landmass. I looked out my window at a large white landmass and could see waterfalls and a river and mountains. My mind went blank as I tried to figure out what the landmass could be. Iceland? Newfoundland? Nope, Greenland! Now I guess I can say I've been to Greenland...or at least that I saw it from above.

I arrived in Halifax earlier than anticipated so I had to wait a few hours for my shuttle back to Cape Breton. Other than a bit of bad weather in the Scottish Highlands, one bad hotel and the fact that 9 days in Scotland wasn't long enough, the trip was perfect in every way and I hope to return to Scotland again in the near future.

Monday, June 5, 2017

Lessons in Scottish History and an Eventful Final Night

We arrived at the Battlefield of Culloden in the early afternoon and started our tour with a walk-through of the indoor museum and exhibit. I didn't know all that much about the famed and brutal battle but after I did that walk-through, I knew everything there was to know including just how devastatingly brutal the battle was. I was particularly disturbed by the 3D movie that was shown on all four walls of a fairly large room at the end of the exhibit. It was a very realistic reenactment of the battle. Standing in the middle of that room with scenes of the recreated battle happening all aroud me made it seem like I was right there in the middle of it all. After brushing up on my knowledge of one of Scotland's most famed battles, I stepped outside onto the actual battlefield where, On April 16th, 1746 around 2000 men lost their lives in a relatively short amount of time.

There were quite a few people wandering the battlefield that day but despite the crowds, it seemed eerily quiet. The kind of quiet that caused goosebumps to form on my arms and the hair to stand up on the back of my neck. Against a gentle breeze, I slowly walked along around that vast stretch of land where so many lost their lives. A hand-held device and headphones with dialogue about the battle was handed out to everyone before they began their walkabout of the battlefield. I took one with me but didn't use it. I separated from the group and walked the battlefield alone, at my own pace and without the noise pollution of a robotic-sounding guide in my ears. I felt this was the best way to get a feel of the place and to envision what transpired in that exact spot almost 300 years earlier. As I walked, the realization hit me that the Battle of Culloden is not only a part of Scotland's history, but also a part of my history.

Before heading to our final destination, we made one more stop at the location where The Battle of Bannockburn took place in 1314. We got a brief history of the battle, the battlefield, the huge statue of Robert the Bruce and a lesson in the historical inaccuracies portrayed in the movie Braveheart.

It took about an hour to drive back to Glasgow. I requested to be dropped off there so I wouldn't have to travel from Edinburgh to catch my plane the next morning. After saying goodbye to Andrew and the rest of the group, I exited the bus into one of the cities busy squares where students and workers on lunch break hang out and tried to find a bus to take me to my hotel near the airport. I figured it would be easy to get there from downtown Glasgow considering how easy it was to travel from the airport to downtown when I had first arrived in Scotland. Alas, that was not to be. It took me over an hour to find the right bus stop and than to find the right bus. And that was just the start of my travel woes that evening.

I booked a room at the Ramada Glasgow a few weeks in advance of my trip and was in contact with staff several times before I boarded my flight to ask general questions about directions and the like. I confirmed my booking before arrival and even received an email from the hotel with the name "Ramada Glasgow" in the email and I was told the hotel was only a few minute's walk from the airport. That evening, I got off the bus near the front of the airport and went inside to ask the help desk for directions to the hotel. I was provided with a map and some vague directions before going off into the night. I followed the directions and watched for the landmarks marked on the map and followed it exactly to the spot where the hotel should be...and it wasn't there. I walked around some more thinking I took a wrong turn. How hard could it be to find a hotel in such a small area, right? I walked and walked and walked until I was exhausted and frustrated beyond belief. It started to rain. It started to downpour. I got wet. I was starving. All I wanted to do was check in to my hotel and and rest up for the long journey home the next day. I started walking in the other direction. I turned down another road and another and I tried to find someone to ask for directions but no one was around. I started to get a little scared as it was getting darker and I was alone in the rain in an area where there weren't a lot of people in a foreign country where I didn't know anyone. Finally, I spotted a service station in the distance. I walked towards it.

When I finally arrived at that service station, the young man at the counter had no idea what I was talking about. He did, however, tell me to check with the delivery driver who was pumping gas because he would probably know the area best. I don't normally approach strangers in this manner while traveling but I was desperate and willing to do anything just to get in a warm, cozy, dry bed ASAP. I asked him if he knew where the Ramada Glasgow was and he did! I also normally don't take drives from strangers while traveling but my desperation caused me to have a lapsed in better judgement. Fortunately, he took me straight to the hotel, or at least to where the hotel used to be. We stopped in front of a Courtyard Marriott and he swore up and down that this had been the Ramada Glasgow not long ago. He was so sure of it, he told me to wait in the car while he went inside to ask someone where it was. This is when I discovered that the Ramada Glasgow had changed its name to the Courtyard Marriott. Once I knew for sure I was in the right place, I thanked my driver profusely and entered the hotel lobby ready to rip a piece of someone but I was too tired to fight it. I checked in and was finally headed to my room in preparation to unwind for the evening. Except, that is not exactly the way things went.

I thought that not being able to open my room door with my key card and not being able to get the lights working in the room would be the only minor things I would experience that evening. Boy was I wrong. My first mistake was realizing I was hungry and going downstairs in search of something to eat. I didn't feel like having an entire large meal so I went in search of the convenience store that was listed as one of the amenities of the hotel. When I was unable to locate it, the lady at the front desk informed me that all that was left in the store that evening was in the room behind her - a bunch of empty shelves. My stay at the Ramada Glasgow - or should I say the Courtyard Marriott - wasn't off to a good start and it didn't end there. After I had to shell out more money than I wanted to order a meal from the hotel bar and restaurant, I sat down to enjoy what should have been a peaceful meal after the hellish evening I'd experienced. That peace was shattered before my fork even made it to my mouth by the sound of a fire alarm going off and staff running around in a panic seemingly not knowing what to do. While some staff members ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, I approached the front desk to ask the scared-looking receptionist what was going on. All she told me was she didn't know, it was being looked into and the alarm had been going off like that all day. Lovely. So much for a good night's sleep. Fortunately, the alarm only went off one more time and I was able to sleep soundly until my alarm went off at 5am.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

So Long for Now Beautiful Isle and Onto Whiskey and Lake Monsters

Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
Part 5 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/the-haunted-graveyards-and-underground.html
Part 6 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/04/a-tour-of-edinburgh-castle-and-solo.html
Part 7 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/04/farewell-edinburgh-hello-highlands.html
Part 8 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2016/11/making-my-way-to-lovely-isle-of-skye.html

Part 9 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/05/exploring-towns-brochs-and-castles-of.html

I awoke to the sun shining on that last morning on the Isle of Skye. Finally, I was able to get a clear glimpse of that fantastic view from atop that hill. After yet another hearty breakfast, I was once again back on the bus and off the tackle more adventures around the Highlands of Scotland. On this day, we took a different route off the Island and drove off the Isle of Skye instead of taking a ferry. Perhaps due to my ancestral connections to the island, I felt sad at leaving it, almost like leaving home. It was a rather strange feeling like none I ever experienced when leaving any other places I've visited.

The view from Hillview

As we drove along those scenic country roads, I heard more stories and folklore about the people who shaped the land. Stories such as the five sisters of Kintail and fairies stalking the glens and knolls of the countryside. Our first stop of the day was the Glenlivet Whisky Distillery Now, I'm not a fan of Whiskey. In fact, I don't even understand how anyone can sip on it and not gag or throw up like I almost do every time I take a sip. The option was there for anyone who didn't want to take the tour to stay on the bus or go for a walk around the area. Since whisky seems to be as much a part of Scottish culture as kilts or bagpipes, I opted to take the tour and, despite my dislike for the drink, it was quite interesting. I may not appreciate the taste of whisky but I can certainly appreciate the amount of time and work that goes into making it! At the end of the tour, I kept an open mind and even tried the sample that was offered to me. I took a tiny swig and promptly gagged. At least I gave it another chance. Whisky just doesn't agree with me. I don't know how everyone around me looked like they were thoroughly enjoying and even savoring it while I felt like my throat was on fire after a little drop.

The whiskey sample I was given at the end of the tour. I could only drink about half of it before I gagged.


Learning how whiskey is made - just some of the sights in and around the brewery

Our next stop was the pretty little town of Beuly where we stopped long enough time to eat lunch and wander the village. I decided to walk the entire length of the main street and see what was available for restaurants and cafes. There were quite a few places but there seemed to be lineups and large crowds at every one of them. A couple of tour buses from other companies had arrived in the town at the same time so I decided to keep walking for a bit to allow the crowds to disperse. When I returned to where most of the eateries are, my eyes locked onto the one place that didn't look too crowded, a little cafe called Corner on the Square. I ordered a veggie quiche and some other delicious-looking item that I had never heard of before and can't remember the name of. With food in hand, I found myself in a bit of a dilemma; there were no tables or anywhere to sit inside so I had to find a place to sit outside. I once again wandered around the town looking for a place to enjoy my meal. All the benches and picnic tables were taken so I sat on a ledge near a bus stop in front of a town-hallish looking building. Others soon followed and soon the entire ledge was bustling with tourists eating lunch in the midday sun along a busy street in the pretty little town of Beuly.

I've been told that a trip to Scotland is not complete without a visit to one of the most famous lakes in Scotland and possible the whole world, Loch Ness. I'm pretty sure everyone reading this is probably aware of what makes the lake so famous and had it not been on the itinerary of this tour, I don't think I would have made a special detour to try and spot a monster that may or may not be still alive if it even ever existed. That being said, my afternoon on the Loch did end up being a highlight of the trip. We left Beuly and drove a long stretch of highway until we reached Urquhart Castle. After a walk through the visitor centre, I ventured off on my own to explore the ruins of the great castle with instructions to meet in an hour to board a cruise on the Loch.

Once again, I found myself wandering around an ancient castle and imagining what it was once like and trying to wrap my head around some of the (both brutal and historical) things must have transpired on that very spot over hundreds of years. The setting of the ruins is breathtaking with what's left of the once stately castle sitting on the banks of Loch Ness.

With the hour almost up, I made my way to the docks by the lake and climbed aboard the Jacobite Warrior and I took a seat on the upper outside deck. The air was a little cook but this was the best place to get the best view of the lake and surrounding countryside. The winds had picked up a bit but the sun was shining on the Loch, giving it a crystal clear, glass-like finish until we got out to the middle of the lake where it was quite rough. I scanned the deep waters looking for signs of the famous sea serpent that is said to live in the loch but Nessie remained elusive. Some sonar equipment is on display so passengers can watch to see if any large objects are lurking beneath the surface. I saw nothing there either. Some say Nessie died and that is why she has not been seen in a while. The gift shops, amusement park, boat tours and Nessie merchandise give me the impression that perhaps she never existed except to attract foreign tourists. Yes, I am a skeptic until I see it with my own eyes.

Loch Ness

Sonar equipment used to detect Nessie...or more likely jsut any big mass on the lake.

We arrived in Fort Augustus in the early evening and before checking into our accommodations for the night, we attended a live show at the Clansman Centre. Inside the dark theatre, a man dressed in period costume and carrying a Claymore sword walked out on stage. After a brief history on the use of the Claymore, a medieval (and quite effective) weapon used in battles from the 15th to the 17th century, we were shown the proper way to wear a kilt. I you are thinking the way I did before seeing this demonstration, you probably think that wearing a kilt is simply the same as wearing any skirt. Well, not quite...and the Scots prefer that no one use the word skirt to describe a kilt. The kilt is, after all, an item of clothing usually worn by men and was, in the past, commonly worn on the battlefield. I was able to see exactly how the kilt was worn and what went into the actual putting on of the kilt and let me tell you, it's a lot harder than it looks!

Fort Augustus is another pretty little town with a canal in the centre of the downtown area. Since it was our last night together as a group (some were headed to the Orkney islands the next day with another guide while the rest of us, me included, were headed back to Glasgow and Edinburgh) we decided to go out to dinner together. However, that didn't quite work out as planned. Some members of the group decided to call it a night while the rest of us couldn't decide on one place to eat so we ended up going our separate ways. The American lady I had been sharing a seat with on the bus suggested pizza for anyone who wanted to join her. I hadn't tried Scottish pizza yet so I went with her. We found a place called The Moorings that served pizza and a lot of other delicious-sounding meals. Since I already had pizza on the brain, I ordered a small vegetarian pizza thinking I would take half of it back to the hotel to have for breakfast the next morning. Well that didn't happen because it was so good and I was so hungry, I just polished it all off in one sitting. The large windows in the restaurant allowed for a nice view of the little town and because it wasn't overly crowded with people waiting for tables, we felt comfortable to stay and talk for a while after we ate.

I'm a bit of an introvert so meeting new people is a tad of a chore for me sometimes but occasionally, I meet a person who I instantly like and trust and we become instant friends. I don't often meet someone I can share intimate details of my life with after only a couple of days but I felt very comfortable with this person, like I had known her all my life. We talked about the recent, sudden loss of our mothers at fairly young ages. We talked about our careers and hobbies and families and travels. At one point, she blurted out something that both surprised me. "I'm proud of you". Of course, I was initially baffled by this statement. How can a who was a total stranger 4 days earlier be proud of me? "I wish I could have done what you are doing at your age...traveling by myself. I was too scared when I was younger. Keep doing what you are doing and don't let anyone tell you otherwise". I was shocked. That was the first time anyone had ever told me they were proud of me for traveling on my own. I've gotten lots of comments over the years about my solo travels. Usually they were along the line of "you know, it's time to get your priorities straight and start thinking about starting a family" or "one of these days, you are going to get raped/kipnapped/killed/beat up/robbed while wandering around these foreign countries". Hearing those words made me feel more confident in my own feelings towards my lifestyle. I've never felt that I'm being irresponsible, selfish or careless when it comes to my travels but the people around me have tried to make me feel that way my whole life and at times, I wonder if maybe it is true. It was a relief to hear someone tell me that I am on the right track in life. This is why I find it easier making friends on the road despite being more on the introverted side. I'm more likely to meet more open-minded, adventurous people who are living their lives to the fullest. People who are doing things, who don't live in the tiny bubbles of their little corner of the world with their house, white picket fence, television and 2.5 kids. Too bad the people around me can't see that just because I don't live a semi-sheltered and structured life like they do, it doesn't mean there's something wrong with me. It just means I am following my own path and living my life the way I want to live it. And I'm not hurting anyone by doing so!

We left the restaurant almost two hours after we arrived and set out to find a bank machine to get some cash out. In our wanderings, we forgot to keep track of where we were and how to get back to the main road and back to our guest house. We walked around for a long time until we found an area that looked familiar and walked up a road that looked like the road that our guest house was on. It had been a light drizzle all evening until suddenly, we got caught in a straight and heavy downpour. We walked and walked in that cold, hard rain for what seemed like forever and realized we were on the wrong road. We returned to the main road and walked and walked again until we found another road that looked familiar. Nope. Wrong road again. Eventually, we found The Thistle Dubh and walked in the front door drenched from head to toe. I never laughed so hard in my life. Who knew getting lost in a rainstorm in a foreign country could be so fun. I guess any situation can be turned into something positive as long as you are in good company.

I love getting lost in foreign countries. Not only does it provide opportunity to see things I would otherwise not see and experience things I would otherwise not experience, it provides me with memorable and entertaining stories to share later. These memories always being a smile to my face and that night was one of those nights that will surely stay fresh in my mind for a long time to come.

The Thistle Dubh (a cute little play on words if you know the proper pronunciation of those two gaelic words. Clue: It ends up sounding very much like "this'll do")

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Making my Way to the Lovely Isle of Skye

Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
Part 5 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/the-haunted-graveyards-and-underground.html
Part 6 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/04/a-tour-of-edinburgh-castle-and-solo.html
Part 7 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/04/farewell-edinburgh-hello-highlands.html

I slept very well during that first night of my grand tour of Scotland...and ate like a Queen the next morning! I'd never experienced a complimentary breakfast that large before. I ate so much, I almost had to be carried out to the sidewalk. Every time I finished, more food would be laid before me and boy was it delicious...and homemade too! I waited out front for the bus to arrive and while I waited, I noticed something peculiar; there were no cigarette butts or wads of gum on the sidewalk or anywhere else for that matter. Back home, roads and sidewalks are littered with crushed butts and gum.

I was the first one picked up that morning and when I got on the bus, Andrew told me he liked to give everyone a chance to sit up front so he offered the very front seat to me. I felt bad taking it from the lady who had been sitting there the day before but I also liked the idea of being able to see more through the front window. The woman who had been sitting there the day before, didn't seem to mind that I took her seat because she just took the seat next to me. At first I was a little annoyed that I had to share my seat with someone but after we got to talking, I realized she was good company and we had a lot in common.

Once we had everyone back on the bus, we made our way to the port of Mallaig to catch a ferry to the Isle of Skye, stopping at various points-of-interest along the way. One of them was a place called Glencoe, a beautiful area featuring a large valley (or glen as it's known in Scotland) where, in 1692, a massacre occurred. The victims of this massacre were members of the MacDonald clan attacked in the early morning by men under the command of Captain Robert Campbell. Most of those men possessed the surname Campbell and to this day, The Clachaig Inn in Glencoe displays a sign that very obviously indicates that Campbell's are not welcome and will not be served.

After we passed Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in the United Kingdom, we arrived in the town of Fort William where we were booked in for a tour of Eilean Donan Castle. Once used for defensive purposes and now open for tours and special ceremonies, the 13th century castle is one of the most visited (and photographed) in Scotland. In North America, most of our buildings are from the 1800's and 1900's with a scattered few from the 1600's and 1700's. As I walked through the halls of that spectacular building, I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that parts of it were built in 1200's.

When we arrived in Mallaig, the first thing I noticed was the famed Jacobite Express parked at the train station. Had it been earlier in the season, a ride on that train would have been part of our itinerary. I settled for a photo op instead. The ferry to the Isle of Skye had not returned yet so we had an hour to kill before boarding. I set out to explore the little town and when I was done looking in the shops and taking pictures, I found a grocery store where I picked up some snacks to eat on a bench by the boat docks.

It was a short sail to the Isle of Skye and by the time we arrived, the weather had changed for the worse and it was time to settle into our accommodations for the night. I was dropped off at a cute little B&B on top of a hill with an amazing view. Hillview B&B would be my base for the next two nights. I settled in and left again on foot in search of something to eat. The weather was much worse by this time but I was so hungry, I decided to tough it out and get the most out of my stay in the town of Broadford.

Because I packed so lightly, I didn't have much in the way of rain gear, although I know now that I should have because I had heard that September is a particularly rainy month in Scotland. I set out into the damp, foggy, windy evening and walked down the hill to the main road in search of a restaurant, pub or grocery store. I made the mistake of assuming that there would be a take-away place nearby. I walked for 45 minutes in those dreadful conditions before I found a place that was open and willing to prepare me something to take back to the B&B. At first, the woman who greeted me said they didn't plan to prepare anything from the takeaway menu that evening and it would be a very long wait if they did. I think she and her coworkers must have felt sorry for me when I thanked them anyway and turned to leave. They also must have noticed I was soaked to the bone and traveling on foot so she asked me to take a seat and within ten minutes, an order of chips and macaroni pie was brought out to me. I thanked them profusely and ventured back out into the rain storm and returned to Hillview to enjoy my meal. By the time I got back, I and my container of food were completely waterlogged. Disappointed, I opened the container, expecting to see an inedible pile of mush but found a perfect meal untouched by the sogginess of its container.

Once again, I slept like a baby in a beautiful, comfortable room that didn't fit the budget tour I had booked. And I wasn't complaining one bit!

Friday, April 21, 2017

Farewell Edinburgh, Hello Highlands

Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html
Part 5 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/the-haunted-graveyards-and-underground.html
Part 6 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/04/a-tour-of-edinburgh-castle-and-solo.html

Packing only took a few minutes that last morning in Edinburgh thanks to my budding talents as a light packer. I checked out of the hotel, grabbed a light breakfast on my way out and walked along the Royal Mile for the last time. I was thankful to have so very little luggage to carry all the way up to Cafe Nero to meet my tour bus for the next leg of my Scotland Adventure: a 5-day Best of Scotland Experience Tour through Highland Experience Tours. The sun was just starting to rise as I made my way up the street and there was hardly anyone around compared to previous days. Seeing the old buildings and narrow side streets without large crowds gave the scene before me a slightly eerie look and, in a way, made it easier for me to put myself back a couple of hundred years and imagine it 1716 instead of 2016.

Edinburgh at Dawn

I signed up for this tour online through Viator because I had used the company in the past and had a very good experience. After much research, I decided that this tour would would be the best for me to see as much as possible in the short amount of time I had available. I don't usually like guided group tours but with only nine days to explore Scotland, I needed a starting point and I don't think I would have been able to see much in such a short period of time on my own.

I reached Cafe Nero with some time to spare so I took a seat outside and waited for my bus to arrive. Only a few people were there when I arrived but slowly but surely, more people started to trickle into the waiting area. Dozens actually. I hoped to myself that they were not all getting on the same bus as me or my chances of getting a window seat would be slim to none. Fortunately, when my bus arrived, only a few people got on and I had a seat all to myself.

Andrew, our guide for the tour, briefly introduced himself and informed us that we would be stopping in Glasgow to pick up more passengers. He remained fairly quiet for the next hour, pointing out a few landmarks along the way. Even as a passenger on a bus, I was able to get a good idea of what driving is like in the UK; fast with lots of confusing roundabouts. Watching the road from the comfort of the bus made me glad I didn't rent a car for my first time in Europe.

After the stop in Glasgow and with all passengers onboard, the mood on the bus changed. Andrew became more chatty which got everyone else talking. I soon discovered that there were other Canadians on the tour and people from all over the world including Brazil, Italy, Belgium, Norway, The United States, Denmark and India.

As we drove toward our first stop, we got a crash course on Scotland, it's people and some of it's history. We also learned about a game that is played in the Scottish Highlands called Shinty which Andrew described as a combination of Hockey and modern warfare.

The bonnie banks of Loch Lomond was the first stop. I first heard that ghostly beautiful song about this famous loch as a child and was always curious if Loch Lomond in Scotland looks similar to Loch Lomond in Cape Breton. Many places in Nova Scotia and especially Cape Breton Island are named after places in Scotland and I always assumed that it was because homesick Scots named places in the New World after places that looked similar back home. Turns out Loch Lomond in Scotland looks nothing like Loch Lomond in Cape Breton; my Loch Lomond is surrounded by flat countryside and thick forest whereas Scotland's Loch Lomond is much bigger and is surrounded by mountains. I walked along the banks of the loch and onto a little trail that went through a little village. On my way back, I spotted a family of Highland cattle (with very cute babies!) resting under some trees.

Loch Lomond

Young Highland Calf

In the town of Inveraray, we stopped to have lunch and explore the pretty little town. I wasn't overly hungry so I walked up and down the narrow streets, looking in the shop windows. I found a tiny take-out restaurant close to the waterfront and went in to see what they had for light meals. This was the moment I was introduced to the Toastie - a Scottish name for what I know as a toasted sandwich. The girl behind the counter looked at me like I had ten heads when I asked her "what exactly is a toastie". I must say, although there wasn't much to it, that toastie was quite delicious and quite filling. I ate it on a bench by the boardwalk by the water where a bunch of seagulls and pigeons who saw me coming with food harassed me non-stop.

Kilmartin Glen is the site of 350+ Neolithic and Bronze Age monuments including burial chambers and the Temple Wood Stone Circle. I was able to get a birdseye view of the area from atop nearby Dunnad Hill Fort which we hiked before visiting the ruins. Likened to Stonehenge by some (but on a much smaller scale) Kilmartin Glen was as fascinating as any ancient ruins. After a coffee break and little stroll through the village of Kilmartin, we were off again.

Some ruins at Kilmartin Glen

The view from Dunnad Hill Fort

I've been to some interestingly-named look-offs in my travels but I have to say the Rest and be Thankful look-off near Argyll and Bute in the Scottish Highlands is by far the most oddly-named, beautiful, historical look-off I've ever been to. The name comes from a stone with 18th century carvings that was found nearby that had the words "rest and be thankful" carved into it. The scenery was vast, untouched mountainous land that looked wild and unforgiving on that cool fall day. I can't imagine what a place like that is like in the dead of winter.

The Rest and be Thankful Look-off

This was my first time ever taking a multi-day guided tour and I must say I was quite pleased with the pace. I saw so much that first day and learned so much about Scotland. It was early evening when I was dropped off at my guest house in the beautiful seaside town of Oban. Ulva Villa was right on the main street. When I booked this tour, I had two options to choose from for accommodations: Guest house or hotel. I ticked guest house because it was cheaper and I don't really expect anything fancy when it comes to a place to lay my head for the night. I assumed that the guest houses would be more like hostels with bunk-beds, shared bathrooms and limited facilities. I'd love to see what the more expensive hotel options were like because my guest house was anything but a hostel; it was a lovely private room with all the amenities of a hotel and more, including my own bathroom. I left my bags in the room and set out to explore Oban and find something to eat before it got too late. I didn't find anything open except a grocery store where I bought some snacks and fresh fruit to take back to my cozy guest room and relaxed for the rest of the evening.

Friday, April 7, 2017

A Tour of Edinburgh Castle and a Solo Visit to one of the World's Most Haunted Graveyards

I arrived at the castle to the sounds of Scotland the Brave being performed by a lone piper outfitted in full traditional regalia. A large crowd had gathered around the entrance of the castle and the lineup to get through was quite long. Fortunately for me, I had already purchased my tickets online a couple of weeks earlier and one of the perks of buying in advance was it allowed visitors to skip the lineup and go right on into the castle grounds.

I knew from looking at pictures and from what I had heard that Edinburgh Castle is big but I wasn't expecting it to be quite as big as it actually is. I put an entire afternoon aside to visit thinking it would be enough time and it wasn't. I wandered around trying to see as much as possible and got lost a few times because the place is like a maze! I visited the National War Museum of Scotland and tried to find the exhibit that features something about the Cape Breton Highlanders but didn't find it. I watched a man in period costume do a pike demonstration (a pike is a type of weapon the Scots used in war, apparently with quite gruesome results). And I got to see the original Crown Jewels of Scotland which left me awestruck as I stood before the real crown jewels worn by Queen Mary of Scots during her coronation in 1543.

I walked around those grounds where battles were fought and royalty once walked and tried to visit every building and every exhibit but I just didn't have time to see it all before closing time. I was one of the last ones to leave in a large crowd of other visitors who were also trying to squeeze as much in as possible. I exited the main gate of the castle and made my way back onto the Royal Mile. It was a nice evening and I didn't want to go back to the hotel just yet. I walked down the street and noticed people were still going into St. Giles Cathedral. I wandered into the grand cathedral which I heard is home to a statue of an angel playing the bagpipes. I picked a good time wander in too; a little orchestra was practicing near the front of the alter and the music was hauntingly captivating.

The inside of the ancient cathedral is beautiful and I could have stayed in there for hours just looking at all the sculptures and artwork. I noticed some war memorial plaques on the wall and scrolled through the names to see if I could see my last name among them. I saw MacDonald and MacLellan and MacKenzie...but, alas, no MacEachern.

It was almost dark when I left St. Giles and my time in Edinburgh was running out. I wanted to ensure my last night in the city would be memorable so I pondered my options while taking a break in Parliament Square. One thing I knew for sure was I wasn't ready to return to the hotel just yet. I remember thinking that the calm weather and impending darkness made for perfect conditions to take another stroll through Greyfriar's courtyard...alone and by the light of the moon and stars only.

It took a while for me to find the Greyfriar's Kirkyard although I had already been there twice. Once I found it, I entered and was pleased to see that I had it all to myself. I saw no shadows or figures of living beings lurking around but I was hoping for non-living ones.

I walked around until I found a comfortable place to sit. I listened carefully but all I heard was the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. When my eyes were sufficiently adjusted to the darkness, I peered into the night searching for any sign of shadowy figures or apparitions but all I saw were headstones. I spotted the tomb of Sir George "Bluidy" MacKenzie. I stared at that creepily imposing building, waiting for some figure to come out of it or to hear a blood-curdling scream. Nothing. So I walked right up to it, did a 360 degree turn to make sure no one was watching and checked the door. Locked. I'm certain I would have gone in had it been unlocked. I love everything paranormal but I remain a skeptic. I always will be until I see or experience something undoubtedly paranormal. That night in Greyfriar's Kirkyard, said to the one of the most haunted locations in the world, I got nothing. No kicks, slaps, punches or pinches. No disembodied voices. No ghostly apparitions. Not even the heebie jeebies. Heck, the hair on the back of my neck didn't even stand up.

Sir George "Bluidy" MacKenzie's tomb

Upon leaving Greyfriar's, I got lost again. I love getting lost in new cities though so it wasn't a big deal. It's during those times that I find the places that are not in the guide books. I walked and walked, not really knowing where I was going, and just watched all the people out for a stroll in that beautiful city on a Saturday night. I went up streets I hadn't seen before, went through little alleyways that led to other unfamiliar streets and up some stairs that led to another street. Edinburgh is probably the only city I have traveled to so far where I felt 100% safe doing this at night by myself.

When I did finally find my hotel, I settled into the bar area and ordered myself a plate of Veggie Lasagna (which was delicious by the way!) and a beer. The excitement of the city as I saw it through the restaurant window had me torn between going to bed after I ate so I could be well-rested for my early wake-up call the next morning...or taking another stroll, my last evening stroll, up The Royal Mile. I finished my meal, grabbed a heavier sweater from my room and enjoyed a long stroll up that lively street on that last night in the City of Edinburgh. You only live once right?

Sunday, March 26, 2017

The Haunted Graveyards and Underground Vaults of Edinburgh

Continued from:
Part 1 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/02/my-journey-to-scotlands-cities.html
Part 2 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/next-stop-edinburgh-scotland.html
Part 3 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/72-hours-in-city-of-edinburgh.html
Part 4 - http://anotherdayforgrace.blogspot.ca/2017/03/a-real-introduction-to-history-and.html

It was starting to get dark as I made my way back onto the Royal Mile and to the square near St. Giles Cathedral. The street was alive with tourists and locals alike gearing up for a Friday night in Edinburgh. The solemn sounds of distant bagpipes mixed with the laughter and chatter of half-cut revelers priming for a big night out on the town could be heard. A new bride exited St. Giles Cathedral with her new groom. Office-dwellers dressed in business suits walked hurriedly towards waiting cabs presumably as excited for it to be Friday night. With a few minutes to kill before meeting my guide from Auld Reekie Tours, I stopped in at Cafe Nero and ordered a Cafe Mocha to go. I arrived at the waiting spot and, for what seemed like a long time, I was the only person there. I was beginning to think I had the wrong directions when other people started to show up. Not long after, Ethel, who would take us on a nighttime tour of Greyfriar's Kirkyard and The Underground Vaults, arrived.

I was excited to visit Greyfriar's Kirkyard again but this time under the cover of darkness. As we walked toward the graveyard, Ethel explained that it's one of the most haunted locations in the world and past guests on the tour had been physically attacked by the angry spirit of Sir George Mackenzie, the man who imprisoned, maltreated and even murdered hundreds of Presbyterian Covenanters. As Ethel was explaining this, it became evident that some of the guests on the tour had already gotten a head start on the drinking. Their laughing, cussing and plain ol' disruptive behavior caused Ethel to show her more authoritative side. I personally thought she should have had them spend some alone time in Sir George MacKenzie's tomb to set them straight.

While I admit the graveyard was quite creepy in the dark, I didn't get any spine-tingling feelings or sense anything off about the place, although I was hoping I would. Sometimes I get these strange feelings when I visit a location and have no explanation for it. The feeling of the hair on the back of my neck standing up or that someone is watching me. I get these feelings every time I visit Warren Lake in the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. The place just creeps the heck out of me. That night at Greyfriar's Courtyard, one of the most haunted locations in the world, I didn't get punched, slapped or kicked like others have reported and it was quite disappointing. I wondered if it was due to me being with such a large group. I pondered the idea of returning to the graveyard alone the following night.

Our next stop was the underground vaults which are also a hotspot of paranormal activity. I was surprised to learn some of the history of these vaults and what they were used for over the years. I can't imagine up to thirty people living in one of those dark, damp, tiny spaces but, at one time, immigrants hoping to prosper in a new life in Edinburgh did just that and faced disappointment and even death. Disease was rampant and so was criminal activity. The plague was particularly unforgiving in those conditions and if it didn't kill you, it was likely you would fall victim to murder. If you weren't lucky enough to make a living above ground in Edinburgh, eventually you fell into a life of crime to survive. Illicit activities such as gambling, prostitution and robbery were just some of the professions many fell into while trying to survive in the underground vaults. The police only turned a blind eye to it all. As far as anyone above ground was concerned, the vaults were out-of-site and therefore out-of-mind as long as it stayed below ground. While I can admit that the vaults were also quite creepy, I can also say that I did not get any goosebumps or heebie jeebies.

The walk back to the hotel was interesting to say the least. It was still fairly early but it was starting to get a bit rowdy. I took the long way around and started at the top of the street and made my way down and around a couple of blocks. I wanted to get a feel of what Edinburgh is like on a Friday night. I passed lots of drunken stag and hen parties and rowdy students already three sheets to the wind, some ready to be carried home even at that early on an hour. I made my way through the crowd of staggering revelers like an old pro. I had been in the city not even two full days and I was already navigating the crowded streets like a local, weaving in and out of crowds. As I walked, I noticed some comical signs had been put out outside some of the pubs to lure in the weekend crowd. Lots of signs advertising Haggis and beer. I told myself before I left home I would force myself to try Haggis while in Scotland but once I arrived, I couldn't get myself to do it. Many people tried to convince me that I had to try it and the new, politically-correct vegetarian Haggis (yes that's a thing) was even pushed on me but I just couldn't do it.

I contemplated ducking into one of the little pubs along the Royal Mile to take in some live music and have a beer or two but decided that being alone in a place that was getting rowdier by the minute might not be the greatest idea. I opted instead to grab a beer at my hotel bar. I took my place in the restaurant near a window where I could watch the big party unfold on the street outside and asked the friendly bartender for a plate of Cheesie Fries and a bottle of the best local beer he had available.

Much later that night as I was sleeping, a loud commotion outside stirred me awake; a fight on the street between some drunken blokes....welcome to Friday night in Edinburgh!