Exploring the Sites of Scotland

Can you guess what we saw yesterday?

Snow?  Yes….but only on the far distance mountains.

Castles?  You betcha!

A man with a mattress?  Nope….and that was probably for the better anyway.

I have to admit that the arctic blast has definitely hit and the temps were pretty frigid.  

So, we bundled up and headed out early for a short drive  to Huntingtower Castle.  

This castle was previously known as Ruthven castle, and it has a unique history surrounding the kidnapping of James the VI of  Scotland (who became James the I of England) at the age of 16.  He was held there for 10 months prior to escaping, and he was not so kind to  the conspirators, including the owners of the castle, as a result of their successful plot.

The castle is very well maintained, and features a remarkable original painted ceiling.

But there is another story associated with the castle which I only learned while touring the castle,  that I would like to share with you bloggers.

This castle once consisted of two towers, one square and one L-shaped.  It was built in such a fashion as to have a "house" for two families, namely brothers, who had originally lived on the property.  The towers were separated about 3 meters in length.  If you look at the first photo, take note of the middle part of the castle where there are 4 windows, 2 on each floor.  That part of the castle was not yet constructed at the time of the story.

There was a young maiden named Dorothy Ruthven who lived in the castle with her family in the square tower of the castle.  One day, a young man came to visit, and Dorothy's mother gave him a room in the L-shaped wing of the castle so that he could rest there for the night. During the course of the evening, the story goes that Dorothy quietly snuck up to this young man's room.  Unfortunately, the maid spotted Dorothy as she entered the room, and immediately went running to Dorothy's mother to inform  her of Dorothy's inappropriate behavior.

Needless to say, Dorothy's mother was in a rage at the news, and went running up the steps of the wing to confront the couple.

Dorothy, however, realized the danger she would be in if they were discovered, so she darted out the window, ran to the edge of the tower, and leaped across the 3 meter length to the tower where her own bedroom was.  Dorothy would have jumped from just about where I stood to take this photo to the round tower that juts out.  Remember, the middle part was not yet built at that time.

She somehow managed the jump unscathed. In the meantime her mother, when her mother arrived at the guest's room, she found him fast asleep, or at least he appeared to be.  

Not quite satisfied, she ran back down the steps, out the door to the other tower, up the steps, only to find Dorothy blissfully sleeping in her own bed....alone. 

Dorothy's mother was relieved at the sight, and went off to bed with no worries about the young couple.

The next day, Dorothy and the young man eloped and, according to the legend,  lived happily every after.  No one ever said what happened to the maid.  And I'm not quite sure what "happily ever after" constitutes in Scotland.....particularly back in that time period.  In today's world, I'd say that the young miss would have made quite an Olympic long jump athlete, though!

Here's how I look at it, Dorothy probably figured that she could die from falling and possibly break her neck, or she could risk having her neck broken by her mother if she was found out. So the jump was certainly worth the risk to her, and apparently all turned out well in the end.....according to the legend.   Great story to start the day, don't you think?

After our visit at the castle, we headed to Dunkeld, a small town on the Tay, where we were surprised to find quite a crowd of people. Apparently some type of festival was going on,and we were lucky to be able to find a parking spot so that we could check out the town.

It's a charming little town that lies along the River Tay.  The National Trust bought up a series of properties in Dunkeld, and they have been well preserved.  One of the houses still holds the "ell" on the side of the building.

The "ell" is a measure of length which was used by the scots for fabrics, etc.  The Scottish ell was standardized in 1661 at 37" long.  The ell faded into obscurity with the imposition of the metric system in 1824.

"Gie 'im an inch, and he'll tak an ell"  was a famous expression back in the day.

We walked around the town, checking out some of the sites

And Marty made a little friend:

Then, we hopped in the car and headed east to Glamis (pronounced Glams) Castle.

We were awed at the site as we drove down the lane towards the car park.

                                   

Look closely and you'll see the snow capped mountains in the distance.

This was the childhood home of Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.  Elizabeth was the daughter of an earl, and this is where she grew up.  She married George, who became King when his brother Edward abdicated the thrown in order to married a divorced woman.  If you saw the movie, the King's Speech,  know that is the story about King George.

It interesting to note that the royal family considered Elizabeth to be a commoner.  I can't imagine living in a place like this being very common.

Our tour guide, Linda, was fabulous.  There were only four of us on the tour, and she admittedly gave us much more information than would have normally been given on a tour.  In fact, the next tour, which would have begun 1/2 hour after our's, was right on our tail, and Linda had to keep asking them to wait just a wee bit longer.

Unfortunately, once again, there was no photography permitted in the castle, but take my word for it when I tell you that it was spectacular.  I couldn't help but smile when Linda pointed out two small wooden chairs next to the huge fireplace in the one room.  She mentioned that the Princesses Elizabeth (now the queen) and Margaret would often come to this house to visit the grandparents.  The "wee" little chairs were for them to sit upon.  Of course, they would have had wee little Royal cushions on them so that their wee little Royal bottoms would be comfortable.  Of course!

On the way out of the castle, we had some entertainment from this Highland Cow (pronounced Coo).

The clever guy was quite adept at turning his head and working his horns through the wires so that he could munch on the freshly cut grass on the other side of the fence, only proving that the grass was much greener on the other side.

After our delightful tour of the castle, our travels took us to Stonehaven, which is located right on the North Sea.  We had a fabulous dinner in a nearby restaurant.  The owner of the B&B had booked a table for us on the second floor, overlooking the water.

 Can't say much about the view since it was already dark, raining, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds.  

But I can tell you that dinner was Fabulous!

Another fun day in Scotland

Did you ever notice the large signs along highways that light up and flash important information as you drive along?   Usually they warn you of possible congestion or hazardous conditions.

Well, today, as we drove along the M90 on the way to Perth (remember...pronounced Pear-th), we passed two such signs lit up along the highway.  Each said Snow Report.

We waited in anticipation for more information, but the sign never changed.  Sure, the temperatures are cold as a result of the Arctic blast hitting the area, but the sun was shining and the skies were a brilliant blue, so we're not quite sure what snow the sign was reporting.  We were kind of left hanging.   At least I can tell you that we've seen nary a snowflake where we are.

But speaking of signs.....I'd say this one pretty much takes the cake, as they say:

Sure seems kind of bazaar to me.  I have the suspicion that the man with the mattress has been alerted to the fact that someone is looking for him.  

But he must be doing a great job hiding out with his mattress, because the sign was still in the alert stage several hours later as we walked back from dinner.

It's hard to come up with an equally exciting description of the day in comparison with that last sign story, but we did manage to get to Scone (pronounced Scoon) palace and tour the rooms that were opened for viewing.  No interior photos permitted, sorry to say.  The place was really grandiose and actually has the longest hall in all of Scotland.

The castle is signficant since it once held the Stone of Scone (Interesting analysis here:  This is pronounced the Stone of Scoon....not the Stoon of Scoon).  This stone was famous because it was used for the coronation of the Kings of Scotland through 1296.  That's when Edward I stole it and had it placed in Westminster Abbey.   He, obviously, is not favored here in Scotland.

The stone has since been removed to Edinburgh Castle.  Whenever a coronation will take place, the stone will be pulled out and moved to England for the ceremony in order for the tradition to continue.

Here you see a photo of Marty on the replica of the Stone of Destiny, as it is sometimes referred to.

I know......, it's not as exciting as the man with the mattress sign...

So, here's a photo of Marty in Perth:

OOps...I promised him that I would't post that one.  Here's another photo of Marty in Perth:

Sorry, but I don't know the significance of the bird on the fish.  But it looked entertaining standing next to the river Tay.  (pronounced Tee....remember the story about Fay?)

And, here we are, together, using Marty's uncanny ability to take self photos:

Aahhh.  What talent that man has!

Off to enjoy another frigid, but beautiful, day in Perthshire!

Fun in Dunfermline

Today we make our departure from Dunfermline after Marty returns from the plant, which generally closes around noon.
True to form, the lovely proprietors had no problem with me hanging out in this lovely sitting room until Marty can come and pick me up.  The resident cat doesn't seem to have an issue with my presence either.  Last evening, he even strutted over to me and mewed a few times while making his way to the front of the fire to warm up a bit.

Unfortunately, he turned his head just as I was shooting the photo.

Interestingly enough, I'm allergic to cats, but this one hasn't bothered me a bit.  But he has been keeping his distance, and these people have a crew that comes in every day and cleans this place like my spring cleaning, so the chance of cat hair floating around is nil.

One of the features of this lovely room, is a small bar set up.

After Marty and I returned from a late dinner, we came into the room to warm up by the fire (remember...arctic blast).  Jim bounced into the room, and asked if we'd like a drink.  Well, it didn't take long for us to warm up after sipping some wonderful drinks, which Jim ended up giving us "on the house".  Did I mention how great these people are?  

Of course I did, but it certainly is worth stating it again.

I thought I'd have a bit of fun with this blog and share some items that I found to be amusing.  Of course, you may not have my sense of humor, but I'll risk it anyway.

I decided to tour the little museum in the Pittencrieff house and found myself following the children's mascot,  Calum the cockroach, who was great at giving out simple explanations for complicated geological subjects.  Much of it was rather interesting.  Did you know that the grey squirrel is not indigenous to Scotland?  They were brought here from the US.  And now they are outnumbering the red squirrel.  

This seems to be of some local concern according to Calum.  There is some speculation that the grey squirrel population is higher because these creatures  are not as discerning in what they eat, so their survival chances are better.  

All I have to say about that theory is that I didn't see any red squirrels getting into line for the peanut handouts.  Perhaps red squirrels don't enjoy peanuts and don't realize that beggars can't be choosy.  

Perhaps red squirrels are more tasty to foxes.  Who really knows?  I didn't spot one red squirrel while walking through the park, but nearly every bend that I took had grey squirrels in numbers.

Now let's move onto another subject:  Snails.

Did you know that snails have 25,600 teeth?

I don't know what your first reaction would be, but mine was wondering who in the world would take the time to count them?  Considering the size of a snail's mouth, I can't help but wonder if someone lost count.
And, they can sleep for 3 to 4 years without eating and drinking.  Can't figure out who is watching them that entire time to see if one of those little eyes pop open.

And, last, but not least, snails have no ears or nose, which may explain the extended sleeping time since no noises or smells would be waking them up.

Pittencrieff house has beautiful gardens which include a conservatory.  Inside I spotted a banana tree:

Some beautiful flower beds

Something called a donkey tail

which is apparently very fragile according to the sign.

Then there was this:

Socanum Mammosum, also known as the Nipple Fruit, Fox Face or Titty Fruit.
I'm not really sure who did the translating here.  It could be that great Scot sense of humor coming through.  If any of you readers know otherwise, please feel free to pass on the info.
All I know is that I laughed out loud when I read the description.  Luckily, I was alone in the building at the time.

Walking outside brought a truly spectacular view as the sun popped out.

And, now, just a few words about the Scottish language.  Most people presume that because the Scots speak English, that the language is the same.  But I suddenly realized that the Scots have a language of their own, and that I should be making every attempt to learn it since I'm walking around this country.

On my first day out at the Abbot House Museum, I learned that Fee is not a Scottish woman's name.  It is actually Fay, but pronounced Fee.

We will be traveling later today to Perth.  That is pronounced Pear-th.

And, we hope to see Scone castle.  And even though those tasty, melt in your mouth delights are pronounced as we would say it, I was politely corrected and told that the castle name is Scoon.

So, I have a wee bit problem with the language.  But no worries.  I'm still gavin a grand time.

The Andrew Carnegie Story

Didn't think I'd forget to highlight the life of Andrew Carnegie, did you?

His history is fascinating and worth sharing for those of you who may be interested in learning more about this man who has strong ties to the Pittsburgh area.


Andrew Carnegie was born in a cottage in Dunfermline,the son of a linen weaver.   Thanks to his wife, Margaret, who purchased it as a gift for him, the home still exists today and is open to the public for touring.

 Here you can visit the room where he was  born.

The same room was the kitchen, dining, and living area for the family.  The downstairs room was devoted entirely to the looms.

Now, here's what I learned about weaving looms:  the air must be kept humid to keep the flax threads from breaking.  So, the floor would have been dirt, and the room would have been cold since no fire was ever made near the loom for fear of drying out the threads.  

Two windows were in the rooms that held the looms because that was the only way to get light in order to see the intricate threads in order to weave the linen.

This loom is over 200 years old and you can see the beauty of the jacquard that is being woven on this machine.

Just imagine what it must have been like to have to depend on the light through the windows when the days in the winter are only 6 hours of sunlight, and even at that, much of the day can be cloudy.  Add to that extreme humidity, and it's no wonder these people suffered from rheumatism and trouble with their eyes!  

There is only one original item in the room where Andrew was born. That is a desk that was his father's.  He had sold it in order to pay the passage to the United States and the family of the buyer donated the desk to the museum.

Andrew's father was a highly skilled successful weaver.  His business prospered until the weaving process was replaced by machine.  Hand woven linen was no longer feasible in order to earn a living.   His father finally gave up the business and sold everything that he had to pay for the family's passage to America.  They set up residence on Rebecca Street in Allegheny City which I find interesting as this is the area near where Marty's family immigrated just about 10 years later.

Andrew's family had a child centered approach to family life which was unusual for the time.
They were avid readers of newspapers and they took great interest in the politics of the day.  Much of Andrew's love of books and political interests stemmed from the attention that he received from his mother.  He admittedly gave much credit to his mother regarding his success.

This was one of my favorite quotes in the heritage center: 

Now how nice is that?

Andrew trained as a telegraph operator, and soon realized that he had an unusual ability to translate the code by ear.  There were only 2 other people in the country with such a talent.  Now, this is something that I had never known.

His natural ability to translate code opened up many doors for him.  Soon he was an employee of the PA Railroad Co supervising the laying of telegraph wires along the tracks.

Andrew saved his earnings and made his first investment in 1855 at the suggestion of his uncle.
Less than a year later, he earned his first dividend check. It gave him the first penny of revenue from capital, something that he did not have to sweat to earn.  He considered that to be the goose that laid the golden egg.

His wise investments made him a wealthy man, but he believed that wealth required a person to help humanity.  So as soon as he began earning, he began giving his money away to needy organizations.

Coming from the Pittsburgh area, I had realized that Carnegie established many libraries in different towns.  The Homestead and Braddock libraries were set up for the people of the mills, so that they could have books to read, just as he had been given the same opportunity when he was young.  I never realized just how many libraries Carnegie was responsible for starting.  On my first trip to Scotland, nearly every town that I visited had a library set up by this man. Apparently,  he spent over $60 million creating 2811 free public libraries  around the world. 

The heritage center highlighted many organizations who are indebted to the man.  I won't bore you with that info, but I will admit that I was surprised to see these two familiar characters peering at me through the window!

The helmet is from Carnegie Mellon University.

This fabulous information center is attached to the original house.  It is well laid out and brimming with information that features the history behind this famous man.  I wonder just how many people realize that this man believed that it was his responsibility to give away the money that he earned in order to help others who had not been as fortunate as he?

The statue of Andrew Carnegie stands in Pittencrieff Park.  Carnegie purchased the park and bequeathed it to the town to be used for public recreation.  When he was a young boy, the owner of the house in the park would not let Andrew play on the grounds because of his parent's political beliefs.  But anyone can now play in this lovely park and I loved walking through the many trails and seeing moms, dads, and grandparents pushing baby strollers and dog  owners walking their dogs, or vica versa in many cases.

I had a delightful conversation with Molly's owner, who told me how the squirrels would be lacking food this winter because all of the rain has diminished the fruit from the nut trees.

I kind of felt sorry for the little creatures, until I saw a group of youngsters with peanuts in their hands.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, squirrels were lining up, kind of like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, looking for a handout. One squirrel kept following me, standing on his hind legs with his front paws held out, looking for a peanut.  I told him that I had nothing to offer, but he managed to get his prize from a big eyed blond little girl.

I was surprised to find him as I walked along the trail, where I watched him bury the nut and push some leaves overtop to hide the spot.  I had expected him to eat it!  

This guy kind of amused me because he never moved as I walked by.  I would have thought that he was stuffed, except, upon close examination, he blinked.  He must have been hoping for a little something himself.  Now his face is on my blog for everyone to see.

As you can see, the grounds are just stunning with the trees turning color.

I figured that I might as well take as many photos as possible now because with the expected arctic blast in the makings, those leaves aren't going to be there to enjoy too much longer.

 In this park stands a manor home, Pittencrieff house.  This was the birthplace of John Forbes who was the Brigadier General responsible for the withdrawal of the French  from Fort Duquesne during the Revolutionary war.  He was also responsible for  the renaming of the site as Pittsburgh, after his patron, William Pitt.

So, here you have three Scotsman from nearby areas:  Forbes, Carnegie and Pitt, all whom made great strides in the Pittsburgh area of our country.    Truly fascinating, don't you think?

And that concludes my lesson on Andrew Carnegie. I hope that you enjoyed the synopsis as much as I enjoyed sharing it with you.

Always an Interesting Adventure

I mentioned in yesterday's blog how wonderful the proprietors of this B&B are.  Jim and Doreen have been delightful, and Jim has quite the exuberant personality.   Both are so eager to make us comfortable.

For instance, we arrived much earlier  than standard check-in, and both greeted us at the door,  showed us  our room, and then made us tea and toast!  Breakfast was long over, but they even offered to make us eggs or whatever we might like.  Such hospitality is truly appreciated when you've gotten only a few hours of sleep on the plane.

There's a bit of a story behind the reservation (isn't there always?)  It seems that when I decide to come along with Marty, rooms are at a premium.  I can't say what is happening in Scotland in the last week in Oct., but it was very difficult finding anyone with a room that is close enough for Marty to drive into to work and that is nearby some sites that I can enjoy while he is at work.

I decided on this lovely town of Dunfermline, and actually had 2 other B&B's picked for us to stay.  Both times, when I asked what I needed to confirm the room, I received an e-mail stating that the room was no longer available....just hours after sending the e-mail.  I was a bit concerned, as it was getting close to departure, and I happened upon this place on booking.com.  What a wonderful find!

Our room is one that has recently been refurbished and it is quite lovely.

The windows offer a "wee" view of the land across the Firth of Forth as you can see by the early morning photo that I took through the side window:

The room is supposed to have high speed internet, but I was unable to get it on my computer.  Marty could access the wireless with no problem with his work laptop, but my netbook would drop the network and give me some crazy IP address problem info.  So, I came downstairs to this lovely sitting room, and Jim saw me and asked what the issue was.  

I explained about the difficulty accessing the wireless, and he seemed a bit concerned by it, but I figured that there was nothing that I could do.  Then, I came down into this cozy sitting room, turned on my computer, and poof!  I was online.  Without even doing a thing.   Well, that showed some promise, as I did not have the time to make reservations for the weekend since Marty did not know what his schedule would be, and I was quite busy with two little grand babies to even think about searching for rooms.

The battery was running low, so I plugged the charger into the converter in this cozy room, and I was charging just fine.  I sent out an "I'm here" e-mail to family, and decided to shut down the computer and let it charge up in the bedroom.  So, I plugged the charger into the very same converter in the room, and suddenly there was a loud ZAP, a spark, and tinged metal ends on the plug.

I knew that this was NOT a good thing.  Luckily, the charger had not been plugged into my computer.  As I suspected, I could not use the charger.  My netbook had 30 minutes of power left, and I did not have a room for the weekend.  I'll admit  that I was extremely upset, since the computer is only about 3 weeks old.

Interestingly enough, the converter was not damaged, although you can be guaranteed that I will NOT be using that again.

I figured that I might as well enjoy the day, so I bundled up and was ready to head out the door, when Jim asked me if all was well.  I explained to him what had happened to the charger, and he looked at it, and sent me on my way to a local Computer shop.  He told me to tell them that he had sent me there.

Well, when I walked into the room, I felt like I was in a comedy movie.  Both men looked at me as if they were surprised that anyone would come in the door.  One man was of Indian descent and the other was an Arab with a beard that was about 6 inches long and cut straight across the bottom.  Really, I honestly felt like I had seen these two guys in some movie recently.

The Indian man examined my charger,  looked at me, and said to me "I can order one for you." (It seemed that he thought that I'd be disappointed that it wasn't in stock.)  "I'll get it by tomorrow afternoon".   

Ok, now does that happen in the US?   I was quite happy with that possibility, but skeptical nonetheless.  I closed my eyes and asked what it would cost, and I was quite surprised by the figure that he gave to me because it was much less than what I would have anticipated.

So, I went off on my merry way, discovering the wonders of Andrew Carnegie, which will really have to be for another blog because this one is already painfully too long.....but there is a point to it, I promise.

On the way back to the room, I stopped into the shop, and the man had the charger,  but it did not look like what I had shown him.  So, I walked to the B&B, got my computer and charger, and walked back to the shop.  The man plugged it into the computer, and it fit fine.  He then told me that it was not a name brand as the original, but some generic type charger.  And, the price was £10 cheaper than what he originally told me.

I was happy (still skeptical but desperate), and pulled out my credit card to pay. (there were several credit card stickers on his door indicating that he took cards for payment.)  He looked at me and said that he did not accept credit cards.  Well, I had some cash, but was short on what he needed. He said, "No problem, you can take the charger and pay me later."  (Are you wondering if this is real?  Because I certainly did.)

So, I walked back AGAIN to the B&B, plugged in my computer to charge, got the money, then returned to the shop,  deciding along the way that I was definitely ordering dessert at dinner from all of the walking that I did.

So, by now you've probably figured that the charger works, although it is painstakingly slow.  It has a Great Britain plug,  so I don't have to worry about a converter while I'm here.  

When Marty came back from work, we walked into town, again, and had dinner at this lovely restaurant that had a 3 course dinner for two, complete with a bottle of wine, for £24.95. 

Originally, I had no intention of sharing this story with my bloggers, because it didn't seem like an important issue that you might be interested in reading.  

But as I told Marty the story at dinner, and I began to describe the two men in the shop by appearance, he told me that I should have taken a photo of them.  I told him that would have been a bit bazaar, since it seemed like I made them nervous to begin with every time I walked into the place. 

OK, I'll agree that the two guys were extremely entertaining to me regarding their looks and the way that they acted, but I asked Marty just why he thought a photo would be in order.

He looked at me and said, because when you write your blog, you can post the photo and say:  "Because of these two guys.....you're reading my blog!"

Awhhh that Marty......he can certainly be witty, don't you think?  

I was feeling a bit under the weather this morning, due to the extreme change in barometric pressure from the impending Arctic Blast, and I decided to sit in this cozy room to write my blog, when, once again, Jim spotted me and asked if I was feeling OK.  I explained about my asthma and how I was having a bit difficulty, and he lit this cozy fire in the fireplace and brought me a cup of tea.

So, here I sit, sharing the fire with a friend:

who, quite surprisingly, is not affecting my allergies.  

This place is about as perfect as one could expect. Except for the strange noise that I hear behind the radiator in the bedroom.  Yesterday afternoon the noise got much louder.  It sounded like frantic scratching, and when I peered behind the radiator, I could actually see the wall billowing in and out.

In that respect, I think Jim thinks I'm nuts because he says that there is no rational explanation for that.    I can assure you that I am not nuts, and I actually thought about grabbing my cat friend to get his opinion on the matter, but decided against it.

In the meantime, I might as well take advantage of the cozy fire in this quiet room while I have the opportunity instead of listening to strange noises coming from behind the radiator.

And, perhaps I'll have time later to share the wonders of Andrew Carnegie with you. 

Bet you can't wait for that blog!

Back in Scotland

Once again, I find myself among the Scots, thanks to a husband who enjoys having his wife tag along on yet another business trip.  

Let's face it, I really do have the better deal.  While he drives off to work in the morning, I have the day to explore this fascinating country!  How much better can it get?

We decided to start out the trip with a change of scenery.  And lovely scenery it is!  Our room is in a B&B located near Dunfermline.  The place is charming, the room is quite comfortable, and our hosts are extremely entertaining.  I can already tell that it is going to be a memorable stay here!

When Marty headed to the plant today, I ventured into town to the visitor center, where true to form, I was greeted by a friendly, informative woman who handed me a guidebook and sent me in the direction of the Abbot's House. I was greeted at this door by Fay, who gave me a private tour of the 12th century residence, showing me all of the unique features of the house,

the most exciting being a painted wall that was only recently discovered during ongoing renovations of the building.

She let me have a peek:

One of the rooms is a replica of the original Abbey interior.  Fay explained how brilliant colors were used on the floor and the walls.  This festive way of decorating the church interiors was put to an end during the reformation.  If any of the originals do exist, they would be extremely faded.  This room gives an example of what the people in the 12 century would have seen in the church.

Queen Margaret brought Catholicism to Dunfermline.  Her husband, Malcolm III, merged Catholicism with the Celtic Church in the town, and together they had a monastery built in the town.  Queen Margaret's devotion to her family and her strong religious beliefs resulted in her canonization 150 years after her death, as St. Margaret. 

Oh, by the way, a little piece of trivia pertaining to the outside color of the building.  Apparently pink represented manor home while buildings that were painted orange were palaces.  The "pink" color came from mixing milk and blood.  Nice to know, don't you think?

Dunfermline is the birthplace of Andrew Carnegie.  Our B&B is located near the park where a larger than life statue of the man stands facing the town.  

Don't you just love the brilliant colors in the park where this man is honored?

I couldn't help but smile as I walked through the park, thinking of the many delightful encounters that I had today.  

One thing that I realized is that the locals are really quite similar to Pennsylvanians.

The talk of the town today was the predicted "Arctic blast" with a possibility of snow by the end of the week.

Everywhere I went, I heard concern about the impending weather, particularly the snow.

Which got me to thinking:

 Do you suppose that we'll have to worry about toilet paper?

I'll keep you posted!

AT home and all is well

Well, we were up and about at 3:00 AM for an early flight out of St. Petersburg, and arrived in our home at 7:00 PM the same day.  Doesn't sound too bad, does it?

In fact 7:00 PM our time translates to 3:00 AM Saturday, so we were literally on the road for 24 hours. I did get a good night's rest, but it always takes a few days for the body to get back to local time.  

Here you see a statue that we spotted in Alexandrovsky Park  on our last evening in St. Petersburg.  I have no idea who the man is, but he does appear to be thinking about something.  Perhaps he's wondering where he put his keys?

In this park there is an area that features miniature St. Petersburg scale models of city landmarks.  The idea came from Alexei Miller, the President of Gazprom, the state gas and oil company, who is from St. Petersburg.  

I wanted to share a couple of the miniatures with you: 

The Church of our Savior of the Spilled Blood:

SS. Peter & Paul Church at the Fortress

St. Isaac's, the 4th largest church in the world:

The admiralty

The Hermitage:

Mikailhovsky Palace:

If they sound familiar, it's because I was lucky to be able to see everyone of these and, if you kept up with my blogs, then you read about them during my adventures.

I certainly think that I made the most of the experience because I don't think I could have done much more in four days!  

There was one damper on the trip, though.  We were tricked by a "sly dog" as the hotel concierge called him in an e-mail that she returned to me.

We were leaving at 4:00 am via taxi that we had set up and paid for at the hotel the day prior to our leaving.  We asked the concierge if our taxi was outside, and he peeked out the window and nodded his head.

So, we headed out the door where a man in a white taxi popped out and asked if we were going to the airport.  I do have to admit that we were skeptical, because the man who had picked us up from the airport had been driving an unmarked car and this one was marked with a Taxi sign on the roof.

The driver wanted to take us to the International airport Petrograd #1, but Marty thought it was Petrograd #2.  The driver insisted that we needed to go to #1.  We asked him if the hotel had set up the ride with him and he said yes.  We asked him if he had been paid by the hotel  and he said yes.

He drove us to the Petrograd #1 airport, and when Marty went to give him a tip, he began to yell in a loud voice that we owed him 1500 Rubles. (what we had already paid the hotel).  He was making a commotion that was really quite upsetting.  I told the man that we had paid the hotel.  He told us that he was a city taxi, not the hotel taxi.  I reminded him that he told us that the hotel had paid him.  He, once again, told us that he was a city taxi, not a hotel taxi.  So, we gave him the rest of the rubles that we had, plus a $20.00 bill, which brought the amount to 1500, as he had requested.

We entered the airport, went to information, and were told that we were at the wrong airport.  We needed to take a taxi to the other airport.  So, we headed out to find a taxi when a man came up to us and asked if we needed to go to the other airport.  We said yes, but told him we had no Russian Rubles.  He was happy to take $20.00.  (which, by the way, I read that was illegal for anyone to take dollars or euros in Russia, so that should tell you something.)

In any event, we ended up at the right airport for our departure, but you can imagine how upsetting this whole experience was.  I e-mailed the reception desk at the hotel to tell them what had happened because I wanted them to prevent this in the future.  (plus....I didn't want that guy to dupe anyone else at that hotel.....let's just say I felt the need to get even).  The young lady was mortified by what had happened, and took total responsibility.  She appreciated the e-mail, and said that in the future, they will handle the matter differently.

So, we didn't escape the country without incident.   But what's more important is that we did get to the airport, and didn't have any issues going through security.  They appeared to be far more concerned about our arrival than they did about our leaving.

And, I'm very grateful that we didn't fly on Lufthansa, as they decided to go on strike on Thursday, and our visa distinctly stated that we needed to be out of the country on Friday!  I don't even want to think about what that hassle would have entailed!

So, for now, I'll be having a rest from gallivanting......hope you enjoyed the travels.