Are you hungry?

Well, you could consider driving through Pal's and ordering any of the above pictured food items.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I spotted this on Lee Highway.  The locals must love the place, as it was really hopping around lunchtime today.

And, if you can't find what you really want here, Food City is just about a hot dog's length away.

Really, could you ask for anything more?  Except maybe some relish?

Robert Burns, Auld Lang Syne & the Largest Disco Ball in Fife

Here it is!  The exciting post that I promised you!  And we owe all of this excitement to Dave, our friendly hotel waiter!

While chatting with Dave the other day, he informed us that this hotel is "famous" for two things.

First, it has the second oldest revolving door in all of Scotland.

Really?  This sure seemed  rather silly to get excited about.  And, it doesn't appear to be as old as some of the same type of doors that I've seen in Pittsburgh.  But, who am I to question Dave on this one?

But that trivia pales in comparison to the fact that the ballroom in this hotel holds the largest Disco ball in all of Fife!

Dave was all too eager to share that tidbit with us, and apparently people come from all over in order to take advantage of that feature.  How could I pass on sharing that with you?

Ok, so I had to sneak outside to get the photo looking through the window.  It probably looks better up close, but the room was filled with people tonight and this really is the best that I could do.

But, as if that wasn't enough excitement for you, let me share an unusual event which Dave arranged for us to see.  Jan. 25 is traditionally Robert Burns day here in Scotland.  The celebration involves bagpipes, Scotsmen in kilts, and the reading of Burns' poem, To A Haggis.

Well, tonight isn't January 25, but a local group of Scotsmen (and women) were celebrating the special day right here in the hotel ballroom, and Dave invited us to come and witness the festivities.

A young lad, dressed in a kilt, played the bagpipes,

while being followed by a waitress carrying a tray with a Haggis

The stuff involves sheep intestines and oatmeal and that is about enough to convince me NOT to try it!
Then, true to form, the Haggis was set on the table, and an elderly gentlemen, dressed in a kilt, read the poem to the crowd, and then stabbed the Haggis while everyone applauded.

It was quite a ceremony, and we were very excited to have been welcome in the room to witness the event.

And so,  I leave you with the exiting bagpiper playing Auld Lang Syne, written by no other than Robert Burns himself.  Enjoy!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jrcrazy/6732785973/in/photostream

Making the most of our last day in Scotland

Our day began with one last bowl of Dave's famous porridge, which we thoroughly enjoyed, as always. Dave surprised us by bringing out the bowls with a little trinket for each of us to remind us of our stay here. 

Mine is a little Scottish bagpiper on a chain, and Marty's is a bottle opener key ring with the Scottish flag. You just can't beat that for being made welcome.

Here at the plant where Marty is working, the engineers only work half days on Friday.  This made the perfect opportunity for Marty and me to make a drive out to Linlithgow to visit the palace where Mary, Queen of Scots was born. The GPS behaved wonderfully today and we made it to the town without incident. 

What makes this palace so amazing is the fact that it still stands after being built in the mid-1400's.  The roof is gone, and the plaster walls and tapestries are absent, but standing inside, one can easily imagine the grandeur of time past. 

 The entrance through the gate takes you to a central courtyard where a fountain stands from 1537, built by King James V, and we were told that it actually still works, only being used on rare occasions.

The fountain declares Scotland's independence, subject to no one but God, and the king's superiority.

These figures are original, with the mermaid representing eloquence and the drummer representing music.

The enormity of the rooms is amazing.  Here you can see Marty standing in the fireplace in the kitchen.

The weather was cold and slightly rainy, but that didn't stop us from climbing the tower to the very top to take in the views.  Absolutely breathtaking!

And, of course, Marty couldn't resist snapping a photo of the two of us at the top of the tower.

At this point we decided to take haven in a nearby restaurant for something to warm us up.  

At the Four Mary's tavern, we found ourselves warming up quickly, sitting near a cozy fire while enjoying a bowl of Lentil soup.  By the way, the place gets its name from the four ladies-in-waiting of Mary, Queen of Scots, all of whom were named Mary.

We both commented that this was the perfect way to end the trip.  The food was delicious, the atmosphere was cozy, and who cared about the cold frigid weather outside?

But before I close this out, let me just say that there might be one more adventure from the trip coming your way. I hope that it is as exciting as anticipated.  Don't worry....I won't be doing anything crazy!

Until next time.....

Queensferry: home of the Burry Man tradition

Why Queensferry? you may ask.  To meet the Burry Man of course.  Or at least to see a model of the man preserved behind glass.  Well, I actually wasn't aware of this interesting tradition until I spotted this guy in the museum in Queensferry. More about him later.

I decided to make the trip here because I was interesting in learning about the ferry that once  transported people from the southern end of the firth to the northern side.  Queen Margaret (future St. Margaret) who was married to Malcom III in Dunfermline, would make this journey frequently herself.  She was instrumental in introducing a ferry for pilgrims making the journey from Edinburgh to St. Andrews. This is how the town got its name, and the village across the firth is called North Queensferry.

There isn't a train station in Queensferry, so I needed to alight in Dalmeny and make the walk into town to visit the museum.  Of course, I did not have a map and was hard pressed to find one, so I decided that I would ask the attendant at the train station for directions to the museum.

You can imagine my surprise when I was the lone person departing the train in Dalmeny, and the station was all locked up.  Not a soul to be found, not even a ticket man.  I would have been out of luck had I not purchased the round trip ticket for the day.

My so-called "easy" adventure was already proving to be a bit of a challenge. I had copied some street directions down, but was completely disoriented upon arrival.  I walked down the ramp, spotting a woman behind a glass door in a locked building.  She was kind enough to answer the door and head me in the right direction.

She had told me that I couldn't miss High Street, and she was absolutely correct.  It was a lovely little cobblestone street, lined with those quaint houses that I was looking for the other day.  The funny thing is that the literature that I had read never mentioned the beauty of this little town.  I was delighted to have chosen this spot to visit.

The street runs along the Firth of Forth offering an amazing view between the houses.

The town is sandwiched between the Firth Railroad Bridge and the Firth of Forth Driving Bridge, and the museum is located in the council building on this street. Luckily, the woman had told me the location of the museum. Once inside the door, I was surprised to have to ring a bell for admittance.  A buzzer sounded and I was able to open the door and climb the stairs in this old building which led to a door that had a Museum sign above it.  I was curtly informed by a man in the room that there were only 2 rooms open for viewing, and that the 3rd room was closed as it was being refurbished.

Wouldn't it figure that the closed room housed the telescope for viewing the firth?  There wasn't much that I could do about that, and since this museum was free, I really couldn't complain, could I?

So, I began to read through the history of the town and the building of the railroad bridge over the firth, which actually began in 1883, was finished in 1890 and continues to be used today.  Pretty amazing, don't you think?

In my thirst for my information regarding this town, I began to ask the man behind the desks some questions.  I was curtly told that he was not familiar with the museum's contents and that he was filling in for someone.  Well, so much for that!

The museum is small, but has some very interesting displays regarding the town and its previous industry.  One item of particular interest was an explanation of the mining of shale that was done from 1862 to 1962, the  purpose of which was to extract oil.  The display went on to explain the active oil industry in this town and the hazards surrounding the work.  I think my mouth was hanging open at this point.

My first job with Gulf Research as a Chemical Engineering, involved this very premise.  Here I was, attempting to design an efficient process that could be used on a large scale, and the Scots had successfully proven that this could be done for 100 years!

On my way out of the museum, after descending the stairs, I spotted an empty conference room that offered a spectacular view so I sneaked in and took a couple of photos through the window.  So much for Mr. Crabby upstairs!

One of the items of interest in the museum was the mention of the Hawes Inn and its connection to Robert Louis Stevenson's novel, "Kidnapped."  He had apparently stayed at the inn when the idea of the book came to him.  I was so close, and the train wasn't scheduled for quite awhile, so how could I resist the opportunity of seeing this place first hand?

This time, it was a straight stretch, on a paved sidewalk that ran along the firth.  

The Hawes house continues its role as a hotel, just as it had been back in Stevenson's day.  It stands in the shadow of the Forth Railroad bridge, and is directly across the street from the ferry that would take people across the firth so many years ago.

As I headed back towards town, I couldn't help but admire the beauty of High Street.  

I'm fairly certain that a short cut exists from High Street up the hill to the Train station, but I had decided that I was not going to wary from the path.  By this time, the weather turned for the worse, and I found myself walking along the street, getting soaked from the rain that was falling.

I passed the old Tollbooth built in 1636

and Black Castle built in 1626.

By the time I climbed the hill and reached the station, the rain had changed over to snowflakes, which were much easier to deal with.  When  I reached the hotel almost an hour later, the sun was once again shining.

But that, I hear, is typical Scottish weather.  I was just happy that I managed to get back without incident and didn't get lost!  But, in my opinion, the town of Queensbury has a lot of history worth sharing, and someone should think about putting together a walking map highlighting some of these historical and fabulous looking buildings.

But wait!  You want to read the Burry Man story, right?  This is a pagan tradition whose origins are unknown.

Every year, on the second Friday of August, a man in the town collects burrs himself, and begins to cover himself entirely with them.  Once he is fully covered in his costume he leaves the center of town around 9:00 a.m. and parades around, stopping in each of the pubs where he is offered a drink of whiskey through a straw. He has a couple of attendants with him should he need assistance.  (I wonder if they get free drinks as well?)

The story never goes on to tell just why this event occurs.  And who came up with the free whiskey through a straw idea?  I'm thinking that he needs the hard stuff in order to deburr at the end of the day!

What do you think?

The Museum Trail

Were you worried when you didn't see a new post?  Or, were you relieved to not have to read another novel?

I'll make every attempt at keeping this post shorter, although it really is quite difficult when there are so many moments that I'd love to share with you.

As mentioned in my last post, I decided that it was time for me to diverge from the nature side of Scotland, and delve into the historical side by visiting museums instead of trudging through isolated countryside.  But don't for one minute presume that walking the streets of Edinburgh is safer than traipsing through a field.  One must always be aware of surroundings.  Luckily, there are fewer people in the city at this time of year, making it a bit easier to get around, and opening up the possibility of more photos of this lovely old town.

I headed down the Royal Mile towards some museums that I had not yet explored.  On the way, I passed the Mercat with the Unicorn standing stately on top.

I made my way to the People's Story, housed in the Canongate Tollbooth which was built in 1591.The staff was very friendly and I had the place to myself to explore.

The museum presented information on the everyday lives of the ordinary people of Edinburgh, from the 18th century through today.  It was set up so that the visitor could understand the conditions of the people and how they changed over time.  The museum pretty much immerses one into the lives of the people who worked  in the town giving a perspective that we often miss.  In other words, you walked in the shoes of various professions so that you could understand what life was like for them.

Directly across the street is the Museum of Edinburgh.  There wasn't quite as much information as I had expected to find in this museum.  I learned that Silver was a big industry in Edinburgh and several rooms had displays of silver from as early as the 16th century.

                                       

But, the most endearing part of this museum is the information surrounding the legend of Greyfriar's Bobby, the story of a Skye Terrier who was so attached to his owner, that he wouldn't leave his grave in Greyfriar's cemetery.  The year was 1858, and the locals were so touched at this wee dog's devotion, that they rallied together to feed him and made him a shelter so that he could stay close to his master's grave, which he did for 14 years.  He is buried outside the cemetery since animals cannot be in the church graveyard.

The museum has a replica of the statue that stands near the Greyfriar's church, as well as  Bobby's original collar and the bowl from which he ate at the local bar.  It is obvious that the local townspeople were quite taken by this dog, and there is even a copy of a photo that was made of him at the time. 

The next stop on the Royal Mile was the Children's Museum. Now this place was Fabulous!  From the minute I walked in the door, I couldn't help but be fascinated by the large collection of toys and memorabilia that were displayed. I can't imagine anyone not being delighted by this place.  I found myself laughing out loud at some of the comical items.

How can you resist the cuteness of this little elephant toy?

There was a large collection of tea sets, but this fairy tale set sure had me laughing:

I was kind of surprised to find a Chemistry game from old:

as well as this 1901 Construction set: Engineering for Boys.

There was a room filled with dolls:  from tiny to life size.  I laughed when I saw Rex Harrison, the Dr. Doolittle Doll:

and I'll admit that this was the first time that I ever saw a nun doll:

I could go on and on, but it would probably be better for you to check out my flickr photos to see some of the highlights of the toys that this museum featured or this post will never end.

By this time, the museums were near closing and my feet had just about enough of traipsing around the town, so I decided to head back to the train for the ride back to the hotel.

But on the way, I couldn't resist snapping this photo of a giraffe all decked out in Tartan Plaid.

You gotta love the shop owner's sense of humor!

Travels over Hill and Dale

You may not realize this, but when I travel, I like to have a plan.  A detailed list of things to do with maps and directions to make things simpler.  But, this trip was a last minute decision on my part so I have had to adjust to just "winging" it.  The woman at the local information center was a huge help in giving me ideas and brochures with maps to help me stay oriented.  But it didn't take long before I had exhausted all of her ideas.

So, today, I headed off to Cupar, a bit nervous, since I had no plan.  The train has limited stops in this town, so I had to plan my trip accordingly.  I wanted to be certain to catch the 3:55 train back to the local station. 

I walked into Cupar from the station with the hopes of finding an information center, and what did I see just down the block?  The local library.  Now, that seemed like a great place to ask for a map or some sort of info on the town.  

So, I went to the desk and explained my dilemma, and the woman gave me a Cupar Heritage Trail brochure, complete with a marked map to follow as well as a brochure on Cupar Trail walks.  I thanked her and headed out of the door, ready to investigate the town.

Cupar has existed since the 7th or 8th century.  It was created a royal burgh in 1328 and was once extremely prosperous since it lay on the main road from Edinburgh to Dundee and Aberdeen.

A Mercat cross stands in the center of town, symbolizing the burgh's right to hold a market.. Several of the towns that we visited had a Mercat Cross in the middle of the streets that were lined with shops although I don't know the significance of the unicorn that always stands on top. It's always difficult to photograph the top since my camera doesn't seem to adjust well to the lighting.

Down the street there is a lovely winged angel that stands in tribute to the fallen soldiers from this town.  

One of the distinguishing features of Cupar is the number of churches that it holds in its few blocks. Each is certainly unique.  St. John's, Free Church of Scotland boasts a 160 ft. spire looming over the town. Quite an impressive sight while walking along the street.

Contrast that with St. Columba Roman Catholic Church, built in 1964 on the edge of town. 

Looking down the road from this church, I couldn't help but take a detour to admire the view.

                                      

Isn't it gorgeous?  Well, I certainly thought so.  Those little white flecks at the top were sheep grazing on the hillside. It just seemed so picturesque.

And it was at this point that I came to a sudden realization.  When one walks around a town with a map in hand, here in Scotland, the locals presume that you are lost.  In nearly every town where I used a map to determine my whereabouts, a kindly person approached me and asked if I needed direction.  Today was no exception.  When asked if I needed help, I mentioned that I was enjoying the beautiful view.  The woman then said, "So, you're enjoying being lost then?"  I nodded and she went on her way.  That's when I stashed the map in my purse. 

It was early yet, and I had hours to go until my intended departure, so I headed to a tea room that I had spotted while walking around town. "The Best Tea Room in Scotland" it was called. It was a tiny establishment, run by a woman and her daughter and I received a welcome greeting when I walked through the door.  I decided to try the cream tea for comparison and was certainly not disappointed.  Unlike yesterday, there was a small pot of sweet cream,  a warm pancake, a tender and tasty scone that was obviously recently baked, and chocolate treat that melted in my mouth. It was FABulous!

Ok, so by now I was feeling a bit guilty about partaking of this extreme indulgence. But that would change in short time.  While enjoying this treat, I looked through the walking tours brochure that I was handed at the library and decided that I had plenty of time to follow the trail to the little town of Ceres which the brochure made out to be quaint and lovely.

Before I go any further, let me assure you that  these are approved Scottish walks that take one into the countryside.  I just don't want you thinking that I decided to truck through a field on my own accord.

So, I set off on the road, following the directions for Walking Tour #13.

The tour involved walking on a footpath that connected the two towns.  When I arrived at the entrance to the footpath, I was amused by a sign that stated that no horses, cattle or sheep were permitted on the trail.  It was strictly for walkers.

The path was lined on one side by a rock wall  and a tree line on the other.  Some of the trees had fallen against the wall, and I needed to duck under them in order to continue along.  I noticed that I was climbing up at a pretty quick pace, and about half way up the hill, the trail became increasingly muddy.

I thought about turning around, but I had already walked pretty far, and I was sure that I had to be near the top.  The brochure implies that once at the top, one begins to descend into the town, so I was eager to finally get to the top.  By this time, I found the trail to be very muddy, and I was slipping a little, so I had to slow my pace.  The last thing I needed to do was to slip and fall on this trail, literally in the middle of nowhere.  I trudged along, passing a couple of horses, behind a fence in the field, who seemed to be curious as to why I was walking by. Perhaps it was my bright red coat.  Most people here seem to where dark, drab colors.

Then, I finally made it to the wooden gate mentioned in the brochure, eager to see spectacular view of the town of Ceres.   I made my way down the trail which, by this time, was extremely muddy, carefully stepping as to not fall along the way. I was so busy watching where I was walking that I missed any vistas that would have taken my breath away, according to the brochure.  It seemed to me that I lost most of my breath climbing the grade of that hill anyway, so there really wasn't much to spare at this point.

Finally, I found myself on pavement, making my way into the town.

It seemed rather bizarre to come from a field onto a road with lights!  By this time I decided that there was no way that I was going back the way I came, so I headed into town to find the shops that were mentioned in the walking tour.  I noticed some bus stops along the walk, and it was my intention to find a bus that would take me back into the town of Cupar so that I could take the train back since I had purchased a round trip ticket.

I walked pretty far into town, waiting for "charming" to pop out and greet me, but such was not the case.  I found myself in front of the Fife Folk Museum, only to see the Closed sign hanging on every door.  I never did find the quaint little shops mentioned in the brochure. Come to think of it, I didn't have a map of the town of Ceres.  Not that it would have made much difference.  There were no people walking around to tell me that I looked lost.

I finally found a post office/grocery store and asked two of the employees there if they could help me.  I mentioned having taken the footpath and neither of them seemed very daunted by that admission on my part.  I then said that I did not want to go back the way that I had come, and could they help me out with the bus schedule?  Apparently the bus isn't too popular in Ceres, because neither of them could offer any insight to help me.   

I then asked if I could walk the road back to Cupar, not being familiar with the road laws in Scotland.   I was told that it was a 2 3/4 mile walk and that it would take me about 40 min.  I would be perfectly safe walking along the road, and I was told that I would be easily spotted due to my bright red coat. Suddenly, I remembered the comments of several people this week, whom had checked my coat, saying, "Your's is the bright red one, right?"  

 I'll admit that this wasn't the course of events that I had hoped for, but it seemed a far better option than climbing through the mud in the middle of nowhere, especially with the skies getting darker already. My bright red coat might make me visible to a passing farmer, but I wasn't taking that chance.

Do you see those trees in the background?  That is the tree line that I had followed into town.  Sure, they look lovely, but I appreciated them more from a distance.

I passed the last cottage in Ceres and headed along the road to Cupar. One thing  that  I noted in the town was that each of the houses had a name, similar to the beach when people name their beach houses. Each one was designated by the word "Cottage" with a unique name inscribed on a plaque on the front of the house. I'll chock that up to "quaintness", but really, if I'm going to hike a trail I'd like a better reward at the other end!

 

Since the people in Scotland drive on the opposite side of the road,  I was walking into traffic, which seemed the safest way to travel on this country road.  At first, cars would give me plenty of room by moving into the opposite lane until they passed me.

Soon, I noticed a definite trend in driving patterns.  The older the car, the nicer the driver.  When a newer sports car was headed towards me, I knew to jump up onto the green.  At first, I was a bit shocked at the boldness of these drivers who actually seemed to enjoy my hopping into the field.  My mind began to envision a bull and matador, and I remembered that the matador wore bright red, similar to my coat.  I likened these drivers to the bull!

So, I carefully continued along the road and only had one bus pass me. I had envisioned a parade of them heading towards town while I was trotting along the path, envious of the possibility of being able to rest my feet. But it appeared that I had made the right decision.

  A short way out of town, a path showed up for walking, and I could relax a bit and not worry so much about oncoming traffic. I could even take a photo without fearing for my life.

When I rounded the corner, just at the point where the footpath had originated, nothing looked better to me than the welcoming sign of Cupar.

 I had made the journey with plenty of time to spare until the train departure.  That being said, I didn't waste any time heading right for the station and collapsing on a bench until the train arrived.  The ride back was completely uneventful, but really, did I need anymore excitement for the day?

I think NOT!

So, I've decided that my walking adventures have come to a close here in Scotland.  Although each was beautiful in its own right, my feet are tired and I just don't want to tempt fate.  No more traipsing through the countryside on my own. I think I'll spend the remaining days walking through museums.

I just hope that I can come up with something exciting enough to write about!