You Take the High Road and I'll . . .

Between Cute telling me to keep it short and the realization that most people really don’t want to hear minute details about your vacation or see all the millions of pictures you took which now you cannot identify, I thought I’d just share with you a few observations and only a few of the million photos we took.

Despite your doubtless impression from Cute's viewpoint last week that all we did was go to pubs and walk in the rain, we were extremely busy for two weeks and pretty much took in every touristy thing possible during that time.  We learned and saw lots of interesting things.

We mostly reconfirmed an impression that castles are castles. The same is true for cathedrals to be honest.  That didn’t keep us from going through a few where we did the requisite wondering at the craftsmanship and architecture and beholding the beauty of stained glass. Both kinds of edifices always bring to my mind the hundreds of years, in some cases thousands of years, where people were sometimes forced to construct them. Scotland did have many less ornate churches however, which is consoling.

We learned about the Sunday Roast which is a thing by itself.  It is a reminder of “the olden days” when British families sat down on Sunday afternoons for a huge meal after church (if they had enough money). The restaurant version is some kind of roasted beef, pork or lamb, roasted potatoes, veggies, and Yorkshire pudding, which, of course isn’t pudding at all, but like a popover.  It’s a meal that can really keep you full for two days. We had ours at the Sheep Heid Inn, considered to be the oldest continually operating Scottish pub and inn (since 1360). It is located where sheep used to be slaughtered in Duddingston, a suburb of Edinburgh. They also play skittles there. Who knew?

We also learned that our best meals might not be the country's traditional foods or tourist-loved favs. If you go to Edinburgh, score a reservation at Mirin, an amazing Asian fusion restaurant.

We relearned how tough those olden days were, even if you were ostensibly wealthy. Touring the Georgian House, a historic townhouse built in New Town in 1776, we saw that clearly it was easier if you owned and lived there rather than worked there. New Town was built to provide better living quarters for the wealthy, away from the poverty, disease, and hugely over-crowded Old Town. Even with your very own wedding chamber pot, you still died young (average age 37!), one in three of your children died by age five, and if you got sick, your illness seemed to be mostly cured by accident.

We learned much about the yachting life of the extremely rich and powerful. If you have never been on a yacht, as I had not, t’s good to get your one and only experience by touring the Queen's royal yacht, Britannia.  Obviously impressive, it also reflected a somewhat unfancy lifestyle of the Queen and her family as it was not gold gaudy like some but somehow kinda homey if one ignores a dining room capable of serving 56 people at a sit-down royal event.  We didn’t eat at that table (although you can rent out the entire ship for 250 people) but it will most likely be the only time I’ll have afternoon tea on a yacht!

All the clocks are set to the last time Queen Elizabeth stepped off the Britannia (she shed a tear). All of the beds except in the honeymoon suite are double or single. Bunk beds for the 150 crew members plus a full infirmary for everyone. Two cars and a smaller boat stand at the ready and were helicopter lifted onto the yacht. Scones can be dryish no matter where they're made.

We learned that Loch Lomond really does exist; it's the largest lake in Great Britain. The song is about a man choosing death to save his brother. Now it's a hugely popular Scottish wedding song, sung exuberantly by all the guests as the last rite of every wedding.

We realized (again) that other places are far more dog friendly than Kansas City. We saw tens of dogs everywhere we ate and drank.  Admittedly, as dog owners of a very well-behaved, shy, small dog, we noticed the bigger dogs as well – some which could put their head on their owner’s table.  They also served as conversation starters. 

We learned we should better plan our trips. We signed up for two different day tours in a row the last two days before we left for our long plane trip home, and both involved riding in a bus for several hours.  Not so smart. The one to St. Andrew’s Golf Club was on a regular bus.  Comfy it was not. Nor are we golfers so part of the glamour of going there was lost on me.  But it was pretty, the adjoining North Sea had white caps and there were even three people in the water.  Hardy souls I am sure.

We learned that a bagpipe in Scotland pretty much sounds like a bagpipe in the U.S., even if the gentleman is wearing a kilt and not receiving tips for having his picture taken.

I learned that Scottish eggs are hard to find even in Scottish pubs and that they originated in England.  Some were made with haggis surrounding the egg rather than sausage and most were not served warm with a drizzly egg as I thought proper.  I told Cute I was going to go home and make a proper one, according to my own personal fantasy (at Stock Hill when it opened in 2018 with Joe West as head of the culinary team) but instead I returned home to my diet and a flooded condo.  Oh well.

We learned more, oh so much more, but I’m sure I’ve exhausted my two-minute read allowance.  Haste ye back, as they say in Scotland.  Or said.