Sunshine in Kinghorn

Believe it or not, today was a Sunglasses Day!  So glad that I brought them along and ignored Marty's laughing when I decided to pack them.

I decided to check out this place, which is just one town away on the coastal train route, after picking up a brochure at the Visitor Center.   I was particularly curious about seeing the spot where Alexander III fell of his horse and died.

When I stepped off of the train,  I couldn't believe the vista. I quickly headed along the path down to the coastal route, having somewhat of an idea where I was going.  The monument wasn't exactly located on the map that I had.  Just an arrow pointing in a direction where I could find it.

Within short time, I met Bobby and his owner:

He was a wee friendly dog.....at least to me, he was.  A lovely friendly Australian Shepherd meandered by, hoping to have a romp with Bobby, but he wasn't having any part of that.  Little  Dog syndrome, we call it.

Bobby's owner gave me some tips regarding today's adventure, and she suggested that I walk along the coast to enjoy the views, then make my way up some stairs to the road where I'd find the monument.  She hesitated for a  minute, then warned me that the steps were very steep, but worth the climb.

Well, that sounded fine to me, so I bid fond farewell and headed out on the coastal path.

The views were spectacular.  Here you see Pettycur harbor.

It wasn't far from here when I began to make my way up to the road.  I didn't see any steps, so I presumed that the road that I was on would take me up the hill to my destination.  But then I saw the train pass by between me and the road and I knew I had better rethink my path.

I spotted a man painting his fence, and he was more than happy to point me to the secret steps that led up the hill to the road.  Once again, this man hesitated, then stated that he called them "cardiac" steps because they were a real challenge to climb.

Well, after two warnings, I was worried about what I would find. I was looking at a pretty steep cliff above my head.  Would I be mountain climbing?

I made my way through the fenced path, turned the corner, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw steps, in many levels, making their way up the hill.  Twisting and turning, but with a handrail if necessary.  As I began to climb the steps I couldn't help but chuckle at how these people presumed that I would find this climb to be difficult.  They obviously were unaware of many of my past  adventures.  

In any event, I was relieved to not have to face yet another challenge.  I made it to the road, and began my hike to find the monument.

I was walking much further than I had anticipated.  I stopped one man and asked if I was on the right road, and assured that I was, and he told me that I had about 3/4 of a mile to go.

I'll admit that it seemed much further than that, but I finally rounded the corner and saw the monument in the distance.

There it stands, above the beach along the Firth of Forth, and at the base of a cliff.

To the illustrious Alexander III

the last of Scotland's Celtic Kings

who was accidentally killed near this spot

March XIX-MCCLXXXVI

And, here's a photo of the cliff opposite the memorial:

It actually looks much steeper in person.  But consider yourself lucky that I have this photo to share, because as soon as I snapped the photo of the Monument, the battery In my camera died.

I couldn't believe it.  I popped the battery out of the camera, tried all of those tricks that my dad taught me, like rubbing the metal to get it warm, popped it back into the camera, aimed and took this photo of the cliff. But my camera actually gave me the dead battery symbol, so I was pretty surprised to see that this last photo somehow sneaked in!  

Thanks Dad!

Burntisland: A lovely Royal Burgh

Here you see a panoramic vista featuring the Royal Burgh of Burntisland.  I stumbled upon the treasures of this town while browsing through a Fife tourism book in our hotel room. When I mentioned my discovery to Dave at breakfast, he had warned me that I would be entering a "ghost town", as he put it, but I wasn't interested in camaraderie, so I purchased a ticket, hopped on the train, and set out to find the library where I hoped to find a copy of the Heritage Trail Map. (See, Rebecca, I took your advice seriously)

The library was easy to find and once inside, I spotted a plaque on the wall, devoted to Andrew Carnegie, the man who was responsible for the library in this town.  One more to add to his ever growing list of donations. 

The librarians were eager to help me, and when they could not locate the brochure that I was seeking, one of them went online, downloaded the .pdf file, and printed up the document for me to take with me. The local people never cease to amaze me with their eagerness to help out a stranger.  I thanked them and headed out the door, ready to embark upon the trail when I realized that the Museum of Communication was directly across the street.

Again, I had located the info for this place in the same Fife Tourist Board booklet in my hotel room. And, once again, Dave had laughed when I expressed an interest in seeing it, telling me that it wouldn't take up much of my day because the entire contents were the size of my hotel room. 

But, I didn't let Dave's comments dampen my enthusiasm.  I had looked at the website online, and found information that showed that the place was open only on Wed. and Sat., was closed until sometime in April, but the info encouraged one to ring the bell, just in case someone was there.  Being Wednesday, this was the one opportunity to check this place out, if I could. 

When I spotted the museum, it was obvious that the place was closed, but the ringer was right there by the door, and I could not refrain from pushing the buzzer.  Within minutes, an older woman answered the door, and I asked if the place was open.  She informed me that they were not officially open, but that they were preparing for a display featuring the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.  I thanked her, told her what I had found online about ringing the buzzer, and mentioned that I had thought that it was worth the try.

The next thing you know, she was ushering me in, introducing herself as Dorothy, and giving me the lo-down on many of the items in the cases.   Dorothy enthusiastically explained where a lot of the items came from, and my personal favorite line was when she said "The bloke donated all that he had."  I had always associated the word "bloke" with a negative connotation, but this woman was definitely not using the word in that context.( In any event, I don't plan on using the word myself anytime soon, until my friend Jennifer clears up the accepted practice in using the word "bloke".)

Back to the museum:  this place was filled with Ham Radio paraphernalia, Friction machines, lighthouse information, telegraph instruments....anything that fell into the realm of communication.  One of my favorite items was the Admiralty Telegraph which had been developed during the Napoleonic Wars in England. 

These giant devices were set upon high hills (which continue to be known as certain telegraph hills) and one could read the message by reading the letters associated with the position of the paddles on the device.   A message could travel 400 miles back and forth in 5 minutes time, as long as the weather was clear, and it was daylight. Fascinating...don't you think?

After spending well over an hour in this place under the direction of my tour guide, Dorothy, I had seen just about everything and was thrilled that I had made the effort to push that buzzer. Obviously, this place had expanded since Dave last stuck his head in the door.  I thanked Dorothy for her exuberant tour and headed out  to begin the Heritage Trail that was my original plan.

The town was not overcrowded, but there were plenty of people out and about since the children have Easter Holiday until the end of the week.  The weather cleared, offering me outstanding vistas with bright blue skies and puffy white clouds.  

There were many buildings in the town, not featured in the Heritage Trail pamphlet, that I found to be quite amusing.  The Short & Curly Barber Shop caught my attention with the snarly looking man's face featured above the door frame. (Could he be called a bloke?)

The trail led me up a walk to the top of Broomhill, where I was amazed at the beauty of the Firth of Forth sparkling behind the Royal Burgh. 

It looks like a post card, don't you think?

The town was filled with many historical buildings like the Parish Church of St. Columba, opened in 1594.

Apparently King James VI proposed a new translation of the Bible in this church.  That was before he became King James I of England. 

Down the street stands the old Parsonage, built in 1854 as a schoolhouse.

From what I observed, it appears to be an apartment complex now. Strollers in the entranceway and laundry hanging out back on a line gave that impression. 

One thing of particular interest regarding this town, was the obvious revitalization that was going on.  Houses were being refurbished, trash collectors were busy at work, and contractors were out and about fixing roofs and painting building exteriors. I was taking a photo of the plaque on the Mary Sommerville house when two very friendly policemen came walking down the street. I waited for them to pass before getting a shot of the house.

The next thing I know, these men were asking me if I was taking a photo of the house to put it on the list of houses that needed to be cleaned.  I told them that I was from America, and assured them that I was just fascinated by the history of the house.  We all got quite a chuckle out of that confusion.

The policemen weren't the only ones interested in my photography.  This guy even posed for me:

My tour of the town ended with the climb up yet another hill to see Rossend Castle.  It sits on a cliff overlooking the harbor and was originally built in 1199.

Mary Queen of Scots once visited this castle.  It fell under disrepair many years ago, and an engineering firm bought it up and fixed it up.  The firm continues to work out of the building, although I did read that one could purchase it for £ 450,000.  Any takers?

I managed to capture this fabulous view  from the train on my way back to the hotel.

You see the church in Kinghorn with the Firth of Forth in the background. Kinghorn is where Alexander III's horse stumbled near the edge of a cliff, on a dark and stormy night, causing Alexander to plummet to his death.  Sad story.  And, he left no heir.  Even sadder story because Scotland underwent a lot of turmoil as a result.  But that's enough history for today.

As you can tell, the day was A+ all the way.  I managed to make it back to my hotel room before the skies became dark, and thunder and lightening rolled in.  Now, how lucky was that?

The Largest Disco Ball in Fife

Marty and I were in for a big surprise when we walked into the breakfast room and were directed down the hall to the ballroom for our morning fare. You can see by the photo, that we got to see the Largest-Disco-Ball-in-all-of-Fife close up this time.  No more peeking through windows to photograph this gem.  Unfortunately, the lights weren't turned on for us to get a first hand experience of how it actually works, but if there is a way for us to see it work, I can guarantee you that Dave will figure one out.

When we entered the room, Dave led us to a special table that he had made up for us, and, once again, he made us some of the best sweet porridge that I've ever tasted.  The room had been filled with a tour group when we arrived, but they soon filtered out, and Marty and I found ourselves pretty much alone, in this huge ballroom with a slight twist to the musical venue.  Today featured Kenny Rogers and Willie Nelson music. Marty didn't look too thrilled, but I kind of enjoyed the change of pace from our last trip here.

Dave came over to chat with us while a new female trainee was clearing the now empty tables.  She was rolling a cart through the door, when we heard a slight crash which was obviously glass breaking.  Dave rolled his eyes and whispered in his entertaining Scottish accent:  "She's got about as much light as a broken torch."  He went onto to vent his frustration about plate placement and how he could not get her to remember which plate went where.  Personally, I think this conversation was totally wasted on Marty, who seemed rather confused himself about what went where, but I couldn't help but be amused by Dave's complaint.  There's just nothing quite like breakfast with Dave running the show while seventy's music is playing in the background.  Add to that the infamous Disco Ball, and I can't say that I have had a more exciting way too start the day in quite awhile.

I haven't quite decided where today's adventures will lead me.  I thought about heading into Burntisland, which is just 2 trainstops down the road, but Dave tells me that it is a ghost town.  Not much to see there, he says. I mentioned a Communication Museum that I thought would be interesting and he said that it was about the size of my room in the hotel.  Well, at least I've been fair warned.

I promised Marty that I wouldn't do anything crazy and mentioned that I rarely do, to which he rolled his eyes and commented otherwise.  I just don't understand his worry.  After all, it's not like I'm heading into the Pine Barrens like someone I know who recently risked emerging.

On my last trip, pulling out a map resulted in the locals coming out to give me direction. The one time I didn't have a map, I couldn't find anyone to help me.  I find this to be a bit amusing, because I am pretty handy with a map, and when in possession of one, I can pretty much figure out where I'm going, particularly in Scotland, where the maps are written in English. 

 It's the lack of map that gets me in trouble.  So, my game plan is to carry some sort of map and pull it out when I need assistance.  I'll let you know if that trick works. I'll probably be touted as a foolish American, but if gets me to where I need to go, it's worth the risk.

Time to get moving......

Back in Kirkcaldy

And so you see the lovely view from the Beveridge Park Hotel in Kirkcaldy.   How did we get so lucky?  

Marty has been staying here regularly, and as a result, the owner was happy to give us one of his best executive rooms.  What a joy to have such huge windows looking out over the Firth of Forth.  

When we arrived this morning, we walked out of the airport with snowflakes falling, but the sun decided to show its face later in the day.  That makes the view even lovelier.

Marty and I were sitting in the lobby waiting for our room to be ready, when Dave came popping in, looking like he had just headed from the artic wearing one of those furry "Floyd B. Turbo" hats on his head.  He was so excited to see us.  It's going to be fun times in Kirkcaldy....I can already tell. 

In case you forgot, Dave is the waiter who introduced us to the best home made porridge that we have ever tasted. He took a real liking to us back in January, and it is apparent that he is happy to see us back again. I'm anxious to hear if the morning music has changed, or if Karen Carpenter and Neil Sedaka are still on the a.m. soundtrack.  Oh yes....the excitements of travel.   I'll keep you posted as best I can.

What a difference a day makes

Well, here's the proof that we were, indeed, in close proximity to the Endless Caverns entrance, although I was a bit surprised to see this view from the bedroom window among awaking.  The photo doesn't do justice to the words featured on the hillside.  Marty and I certainly got quite a chuckle out of this view.

Snow never appeared in New Market,  and the day was absolutely fabulous for walking the Civil War Museum New Market Battlefield grounds.  The museum there is well presented, and Marty and I enjoyed walking through the building and reading the history from a southern perspective.

The battle took place on the homestead of the Bushong family, and the house and building structures are preserved in their original site.  We spent several hours walking the fields and exploring the grounds.  

Here Marty stands on the porch of one of the houses on the Bushong homestead.  

Just over the hill, down a very steep cliff, flows the Shenandoah River.

As you can see, we were quite fortunate to have such lovely weather to enjoy the spectacular views of this area.  What a difference a day can make!

A Time Warp, Perhaps?

This is a photograph taken from our car, at a rest stop just outside Roanoke, Virginia today.  We read the weather warnings before departing, but scoffed them off as a supermarket scare as it just didn't seem possible that it could snow right smack in the middle of the state of VA without more northern areas being affected.

About half an hour into our trip, the giant snowflakes began to fall.  And as we traveled north, the roads became hazardous.  Our destination was a B&B just outside of New Market, VA.  We thought we'd try something different on the way home, and visit the National Civil War Battlefield in New Market in the morning.

As our destination arrival time was becoming perilously close, we decided that we would order a to-go meal from our favorite restaurant in Harrisonburg.  Our thinking was that we would pick up the meal along with a bottle of wine and enjoy both at the B&B, safely tucked in out of the snow.
Our wine options were limited to a screw-on cap, since we don't tend to travel with a corkscrew in hand.  (I know that one of my blog followers will find that comment to be amusing.)

As soon as the order was complete the road conditions improved dramatically.  Within a mile, we suddenly noticed that there was no snow....anywhere.  The grass was green (or at least as green as it would look in the dark), the trees were bare....the road was dry.  It was as if we were in some sort of movie where the car just suddenly drove out of a winter scene like in a dream.

The car certainly stood out in the parking lot, covered with ice dripping onto the macadam.
We picked up the food, and started out on our way to the B&B, which we knew was in the middle of nowhere.  And, thank goodness the snow had not traveled up this far, as finding this place was enough of an adventure without bad weather to complicate things.

We are literally adjacent to the Endless Caverns Gate Entrance. Now before you get too excited, let me mention that the place is closed for the winter, so there'll be no cavern tours, not that I was remotely interested in one.

We were warmly greeted by the B&B owner upon our arrival, but I did find it amusing that the parking lot was completely empty, considering that there are about 8 rooms in this place, and when I inquired about room availability, the response was that the Andrew Jackson suite was available.
So, here we are, the only patrons in a 1790 refurbished farmhouse, next to the Endless Caverns, in the middle of nowhere.
Our room is certainly comfy, as you can see:

But, we decided to partake of our meal downstairs, next to a burning fire, rather than eat in the room.  The food was delicious and the wine was actually quite tasty.  Whoever said that you need a cork to enjoy a bottle of wine?  But then again, after today's travels, perhaps anything with alcohol would have tasted equally as wonderful.

The last time I peeked out of the window, there was still no sign of any snowflakes.

And, I swear this lady who adorns the mantle-piece was looking in a different direction when we left the room for dinner.

Curious, don't you think?  But, really, after today's adventures, I shouldn't find anything too surprising!

The ongoing excitement of Hotel Strasburg

If you recall from past blogs, Marty and I have stayed at the Hotel Strasburg on several occasions as part of our travel adventures to and from Becky and Jon's new abode in southern Virginia.
Tonight, we find ourselves once again relaxing in the confines of a building that dates back to the early 1900's.  The owner has managed to keep the hotel decorated in period style but with the obvious modern day amenities with the newest addition being  Wi-Fi.

On our last stay here, we had Buster in tow, but he is enjoying this President's Day weekend at the Country Pet Hideaway.  I'm certain that he is having a grand time, as the place was extremely busy when I dropped him off this morning.

I reserved the room here  through a 3rd party online vendor, as I have done twice in the past.  The online offerings are typically the simplest room available, and I always book a room with a queen bed.  The second time that I booked online, it was brought to my attention that the owner seems to be rather negligent when it comes to checking the online status of the regular rooms, and since those always book first, we were offered an upgraded suite with a huge room.

We showed up this evening, and I pulled out my room reservation, and the lady once again could not find my name in the book. She politely explained the same story that we had heard on a previous trip, and this time we find ourselves on the 3rd floor, in a relatively unique room with quite a bit of room.
In fact, the room holds a queen bed as well as a twin bed with plenty of room to spare.

Doesn't it figure! The one time we don't bring Buster along, and he could have had his own bed!  But, then again, we'd have to scale 3 flights of steps every time he had the whim to want to go outside.
And with Marty having just flown in from Scotland this afternoon, with his body clock still on Edinburgh time, you know who would be making that trip up and down the stairs.
Not that I couldn't use some stairmaster exercise, but I am looking forward to not waking up to a little white dog barking at 5:00 in the morning.

But something tells me that Marty's morning will be beginning around that time since he's been sleeping half an hour already.  Oh well.  At least he doesn't bark when he gets up!

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?