Sunday in Midlothian

Would you ever guess that one could actually spend FOUR hours in a mining museum?

Would I even bother to mention it if it could not be done?  I don't think that either of us planned on being inside that long, but the staff was eager to sign us up for a tour of the Big Equipment and not knowing any better, we happily agreed.  That was just the beginning.

What I can tell you about that experience is that a man who once worked in this mine, (called Victoria mine in reference to the wife of the man who owned the mine way back in the 1800's) was more than eager to not only share the equipment that was used in this mine over the many years that it was in existence, he was equally excited to share with us numerous horror stories of the many accidents that occurred in relation to the mine, not exactly my cup of tea.

So what did we learn from him?   I'll omit the horror stories.

 A miner's "lunch" was called a "piece".  That was the word for Sandwich.  A miner would have to take his piece and a bottle of water down into the mine with him.  He was given 20 minutes break during the day to eat his piece, and he was not permitted to sleep, or he would be sacked.

That was because he needed to watch his lamp to be sure that the flame did not go out, because if it did, he'd be sleeping forever.

Miners were originally "slaves" of the owners.  They were not permitted to leave the mine to find employment elsewhere.  Men, women and children over 8 all worked in the mines back in the 1800's.

When a law was enacted to prevent the women and children from working in the mines, the men then used shetland ponies which stayed down in the mines for as long as 4 years.  They rarely saw sunlight until it was time for them to retire.

The ponies somehow learned how to dig down into the coat pockets that miner's hung up when entering the mine, and then happily snack on the miner's "piece" leading to a very unhappy and hungry miner.

Rats would sneak into the pony feed bags, and once underground would eat the pony feed, and then move onto the miner's "piece", once again leading to a hungry and unhappy miner.

When the miners went on holiday, they would put bread crumbs into the bottom of a coal cart and lean a wooden plank onto the cart so the rats could climb up the plank, jump into the cart, and feast away.

But the rats had no way to get out, so they would end up eating each other to the point that only a few would remain when the miner's returned after holiday.  At that point the miner's would congratulate them for surviving, and give them a slap on the head....with a coal shovel.  Need I say more?

As you can tell, the tour was really quite informative.  Actually, I was surprised to hear of the enslavement of the miners in the early days.  And, I was equally surprised to read that during both world wars, men were actually drafted into the mines. Most of the miners were excited to enlist in the army to get out of the mine.  Business dropped considerably, so a law was made that every 10th man needed to be "enlisted" to work in the mine, whether they had any knowledge of how to do so, or not. 

The museum is actually the site of a once working mine. the third largest in Scotland.  Marty found the whole concept to be quite fascinating, and he even mentioned that the Steel Industry should have left one mill intact and turned it into a museum like this one.   Isn't he too funny?

The inside of the Scottish Mining Museum was filled with fascinating history, explaining the different types of coal, where they were located, how they formed, and the processes for mining coal that developed over the years.

Here you see some carbon molecule structures.

Some Carbon jewelry from 1870.  

A photo of a mining rescue team, complete with canary.

Most of you probably realize that the canary, being so small, would succumb to deadly gases much sooner than a person, so they were used to determine if a mine area was safe.  What I did not know was that the canary often recovered when removed from the source of the gas.  So, the good news is that the canary could be used time and again to determine danger in the mine.  I'm not quite sure if the canary saw that as good news, though.

Here you see a Spirelmo breathing apparatus. A bellows was used to pump air through a hose to the some helmet. A horn was used to send signals to the man at the bellows.  

One hoot meant help.  Two hoots meant more air.  And three hoots meant less air.  Guess they figured that you had more time to breath so you had time for more hoots.

And here you see a tool that was used for emergency mouth to mouth resuscitation.  

Ok, you probably get the point.  A miner's life was never easy.  Even with the newest state of the art equipment of the day.

After walking through all of the exhibition rooms, we ended up in yet another room that involved a tour of the actual mine itself.   Now, how could we pass on that?

Here you see the cage that the miners used upon entry and exiting the mine.

Here is part of the winding wheel that was used to move the equipment and men in and out of the mine. 

Pretty impressive, don't you think?

And as if that wasn't exciting enough for you, we actually walked down into a mine shaft for a close up look at what the mine would have looked like just before it closed.

I won't bore you with any more details but I will mention that both of these guides were very excited to show us around the place.  They had both worked in the mines their entire life, this guy beginning at the age of 14, and they were eager to share what everyday life in the mine was like.  

The experience was certainly memorable, but I was more than eager to move on, since this is my last day in Scotland with Marty.

We had agreed that we would treat ourselves to High Tea at the Dalhousie Castle Hotel, which is actually a real castle just a few miles from our B&B.  

We found ourselves the only patrons, and were soon escorted to a library room with a roaring fire at a seat nest to the window with a lovely view of the grounds.

I decided to splurge on the champagne.

As you can see, we are the only guests in the room.  But, for just a little while, we shared this room with a prospective bride and her fiancé and parents.  They were looking at the castle as a wedding venue.  I heard the bride's father ask what the criteria was for the wedding, and the groom to be said "A Castle....or something that looks like a castle....that's my only specification."

That's too bad, because I had seen that one could actually have a wedding reception at the Scottish Mining museum.  Now, that would be an experience don't you think? 

The guide had commented on how the brides would wonder why the hems of their dresses turned black as they walked around sipping champagne.  I suppose no one warned them of the lingering coal dust?

Well, it's once again time to call my adventures to a close.....at least for the meantime.  

Let me leave you with a lovely evening view of Dalkeith House and its surroundings, where we walked this evening prior to the sunsetting.

Just beautiful, don't you think?

Before I close, let me remind you of my motto: 

 Life is an adventure, so you better hang on for the ride.

So, until my next adventure....which really could happen at anytime, I bid you fond farewell.

Exploring the Scottish Borders

No worries, as they say here in Scotland.  I did not roll out of the bed as feared.  That could be partially due to the wedding celebration that was taking place just around the corner from our room, and lasted until about 3:00 a.m.  I'm not complaining, as it is duly noted on the webpage that the hotel hosts such events, and I was forewarned.  I was just a bit surprised to hear "Achy Breaky Hart" as one of the apparent favorites of the night. We are in Scotland, after all.

Today was spent venturing out along the hills and dales of the Scottish Borders, named appropriately as it involves the land that is adjacent to England's "border".  (thereby the name, Border.)

Throughout history, these lands are considered to be the bloodiest, meaning that more battles were fought here just because of the proximity to England, whose sovereigns were intent on invading.  But driving along the little roads of this area, with sheep scattered on nearly every hill on sight, there are few remnants of those days of past.

Tucked off a little road is a viewpoint called "Scott's View".  This was a favorite of Walter C. Scott's.  You can see the river Tweed in my zoomed-in photo.  If you look closely, you can see a little fishing boat on the river.

The panoramas offered from this viewpoint were amazing.    I can only imagine how much more beautiful they would have been had the weather not been overcast and drizzling.

The story goes that Scott's horses were so accustomed to stopping at this point, that when the funeral procession with Scott's body (on a cart pulled by his horses), passed by this point on the way to his burial, the horses stopped just as they would when he would visit this spot.  It's not difficult to see why it was considered his favorite.

Not far from here there is another pull-off with a walk through the woods, that leads to a statue of William Wallace who stands upon a hill, looking south over the River Tweed.

Do you remember the movie, Bravehart?  Well, this is the man who was represented in the movie, played by Mel Gibson.  The movie is not historically accurate, but it certainly is close enough to give you an idea of the battles that went on attempting to keep the country of Scotland from being controlled by the "southern" England.  

This giant statue stands alone, about a third of a mile from the road, and you can only get there by foot. I didn't notice the statue anywhere from a distance, so I find it very interesting that it would be placed so far out of the way.  One really does have to know to look for it.  William Wallace was considered larger than life by his fellow Scotsman, and I can say that the statue definitely represents that aura.

Driving just a bit further down the road, we came to Dryburgh, where an abbey ruins still remains, the spot where Walter C. Scott is buried next to his wife and his son. 

Before we actually entered the grounds of the Abbey, we parked the car and headed towards the entrance.  We were quite surprised to round the corner and see these two ladies, which kind of looked like mirror images, bringing a chuckle to both of us.

They were having a grand time munching on the moss on the trunk of that tree.  

And, as usual,  it didn't take long for Marty to find a friend.

Once we entered the grounds and walked toward the abbey, the sight was pretty amazing.

Dryburgh Abbey was founded in the 12th Century by a sect of Augustinian monks known as White Canons.  Due to its location, it was burned by the English, and rebuilt by the Scots on several occasions.  After the reformation, the ruins were gifted to the Earl of Mar by James VI.  They are now owned and kept preserved by Historic Scotland. 

By this time we were beginning to get some glimpses of sun!  We jumped in the car and began the drive to Jedburgh, which had been our original destination before we got side-tracked.  But we were so glad that we did!

One of the amusing points of Jedburgh is that it did once hold a large castle.  But the townspeople took a real beating attempting to defend it during the nearly constant battles initiated by the English who attempted to overtake it.  In the early 1400's the council of Jedburgh decided that it would be easier to dismantle the castle than to try to defend it from attack.  So a castle has not stood there since the 15th century.  

The one item of interest to me in the town was the Mary Queen of Scots house.

This is an extremely well preserved house where Mary stayed for a spell while she was traveling through the area.  The bedroom where she stayed is in the turret that you can see in the photo.

The house is amazingly well-preserved, and we were at leisure to walk through it.  It isn't furnished in period, but, rather, it has a lot of information regarding the history of Mary Queen of Scots.  It contains a copy of the death decree written by Elizabeth I.  And it also holds a copy of the letter that Mary sent off the night before her execution, explaining that the reason for her death was because she would not relinquish her Catholic beliefs.  She wanted people to know that she held her Catholic Religion dear and was not willing to compromise her beliefs in order to live.  Quite an interesting piece of history to read.

Although there was plenty to see in Jedburgh, we decided to head to Tranquair.  I knew that it closed early at this time of the year, and we wanted to get there in time to tour the building. Unfortunately, it was not so easy to find, and we arrived 35 minutes prior to closing.  

Since the last house tour was an hour prior to closing, we were out of luck.  The building dates back to 1107 and it was originally built as a hunting lodge for the kings and queens of Scotland.  Mary, Queen of Scots, stayed here with her infant son, James VI of Scotland.

In later years, it became a refuge for Catholic priests in times of terror.  Traquair supported Mary Queen of Scots and the Jacobite cause.

As fascinating as the interior would have been to see, we had to satisfy ourselves with walking around the grounds.

This place brews its own beer, and we were able to pop our head into one of the buildings that explained just how they made their special Traquair ales.

                                         

Here's a brief description of the method.

I can tell you with certainty that the guy with the beard has relatives working at the place, because two fellas, who looked an awful lot like him, were walking around in plaid flannel shirts and knit caps on their heads acting as ground guards.  I wasn't quite sure if he was a guide or a tourist, as he had the long beard and wasn't dressed as a guide, but I dared to ask one if he knew where I could find a bathroom.  

He peered at me with his beady eyes and said "We din na have that here, but there are the woods yonder" while pointing in the direction of the woods.  By that point, I saw a name tag on his jacket. 

Real funny, I thought.  My response?  "Yeah, I'll bet!"  He then directed me to a door which said "Cloakroom".    Sure enough, behind the door, there were restrooms.  Don''t know if I'd have figured that one out myself as I thought that Cloakrooms were for hanging coats, but really, had I been desperate enough, (and I was close, believe me) I probably would have just started opening doors in search of one, despite the scary men guarding the place.

Well, we were running on short time before the place closed up, so we headed out in an attempt to get a meal since we hadn't eaten since breakfast.  About 12 miles down the road, we drove into Peebles.

What a lovely town along the River Tweed.  Unfortunately for us, no one was serving dinner prior to six o'clock.  But we did find a restaurant that was still serving lunch at 4:00, so we settled on that for dinner.

Then, we headed to Rosewell for evening mass and arrived with about 5 minutes to spare.  I don't know much about the history of the place, but I can tell you that the grounds are huge.  And the church was actually toasty, although everyone in the place, including the lectors, and ministers kept their coats on.  

When we returned to our hotel, we were in for quite a surprise.  We had mentioned at breakfast that there was a peculiar odor in our room which was affecting my breathing.  Also mentioned that the bathroom door did not close, which Jude was quite aware of.  She told us that she would be more than happy to switch rooms.  Just leave our luggage and they'd even move them for us.

When we arrived for the evening, we were escorted to room 6.

A four poster bed room, complete with a turret.  Just like the place where Mary Queen of Scots stayed, only much larger.  (Let's hope that there is no connection!)

I did notice that the bathroom door doesn't close in this room either. When I mentioned it to Marty, he said that he thinks that it is a hotel rule.  No bathroom doors can close.

He may be onto something, but I don't plan on taking a survey or sneaking into any rooms to see if there is a trend.

I'm looking foward to a great night's sleep!

Tomorrow will be my last day in Scotland.  We're hoping to make a great fun day out of it.

First stop:  The Scottish Mining Museum.  Marty's idea.  Sounds like fun, don't you think?

I'll keep you posted......

Bizarre Happenings in Bonnyrigg

So, here's the Real Story.....

We were supposed to be in Ireland this weekend...in Co. Donegal.  Marty scheduled two vacation days, and the plan was to leave early Thursday morning, drive to the west of Scotland, take a ferry over to Ireland, then finish the drive to Inver.  We were going to finally meet Annie Harvey Burke.  Her father, William, was the younger brother of Mary, who was Marty's great grandmother.

I've been corresponding with the woman, who is a delight, for about 5 years, and this was going to finally be the meeting that we had hoped for.   Genealogy at its best!

Unfortunately,  issues involving Marty's work here in Scotland resulted in our plans being cancelled, and I found myself scrambling around with some place to stay this weekend.

I have mentioned before how I seem to have bad planning when it comes to getting rooms, and this time was no different.  Apparently British students were off for the week, and don't return until Tuesday, and their families use the opportunity to travel to Scotland, thereby limiting the room availability.

Why bother with the true confessions?  Because I feel the need to explain just why we are sitting in an extremely bizarre hotel rather than enjoying ourselves in a comfy B&B.  This was the only place that could assure internet for Marty and give us 3 straight nights, and be within close proximity to the airport.  After making requests at dozens of places, the Castle Retreat was the only option that could satisfy my criteria and not cost a ridiculous amount of money.

The Retreat Castle Hotel....

It's certainly different, I'll attest to that.

The woman who greeted us, Jude,  went out of her way to welcome us and help us find a room that actually had wireless available. It was one of my stipulations and Marty needs to be able to access the internet for his job, and she wanted to be certain that it worked for him. 

Well, the first room did not, so she shifted us to this one, where the bathroom door does not close, and, quite obviously, never did close since the door is wider than the jam.  

And, although the bathroom is huge, the shower and the sink share the same space, with a drain in the middle.  No shower curtain or anything to keep the water from splashing up the bathroom, which is exactly what happened when Marty took a shower.

The bed is much smaller than the original room, and very soft.  I'm kind of worried that I'll be rolling out of it later.  If you don't see a blog tomorrow, you'll know why.

We decided to try the hotel pub since there is nowhere nearby for dinner  that we could find, and that in itself was an interesting experience.

I'll admit, I  found these guys to be a bit entertaining.

But I don't quite get the cards on the ceiling.

And, I couldn't resist taking this photo

I'm just not sure why someone feels the need to be watching me while I'm eating dinner.  

Creepy.......

Add to that lights that suddenly pop on while you walk down the hall, and one could get a sense that someone was really watching them.

On that note, I better bid farewell.......

Good-bye to Fife

The week is coming to a close and it will soon be time to say good-bye to our wonderful hosts here at "The Roods" in Inverkeithing.  Pat and Isobel have been the best of hosts, even going so far as to drive us to Mass last evening for the holy day of All Saints, and, afterwards, to the Ferrybridge Hotel for Dinner.  But something tells me that we are not unique and that they offer the same warm hospitality to every customer who walks through that door.

These people love what they do, and it is obvious by the way they enjoy just sitting and chatting with us when we have a few minutes.

Let me show  you a view of the lovely backyard from my bedroom window.

You'd never guess that we were right across the street from the train station, which by the way, we never heard from the confines of our bedroom.

What makes this place so special?  Is it the "extra" touches like a plate of fresh fruit placed in the room everyday?

Or the breakfast that we choose from a personal menu the night before which could feature fresh croissants and cheese?

Or, could it possibly be the hand cut fresh fruit salad that could include as many as 12 fresh fruits?

Or just how about the morning French Press Coffee?

Or the beautiful conservatory where we sit for breakfast admiring the beauty of the backyard and listening to the pinging of the rain falling on the ceiling?

Well, I'd say that it could be any of these.  But what I absolutely love about this place is the fluffy towels, hot water and WASH CLOTHES!

Ok, so I'm a spoiled American and I still haven't figured just how Europeans get clean without using a washcloth.  And, to be quite honest with you, I don't really want a lesson on how to do this either.

I generally pack my own washclothes when I travel out of the country, but it still was refreshing to find one among the many towels for our use in the bathroom.

And, of course, having a fellow member of the Steeler Nation was great entertainment for Marty, who doesn't put the same stock in Wash clothes that I do.

Put all of the above together, with a quiet room featuring a comfy bed, and I'd say that this place just can't be beat.  It was FABulous!

Last evening's dinner was a pleasant surprise.  We had booked a table at the Ferrybridge Restaurant in North Queensferry (named after St. Margaret for when she was Queen and she arranged the ferry for pilgrims to cross the Firth back in the 12th century.)

We had the place to ourselves.  After having a drink next to the cozy fire in the distance, we were sitted at Table #5, in an alcove by the window.

 Marty enjoyed his beer:

 

I enjoyed my Cabernet Savignon:

And dessert was heavenly:  Banoffee Tart.   Wow!

But let me share the best part of the evening.  The rain had stopped and the moon finally appeared for viewing:

And, most spectacular:  The Firth Rail Bridge, built in the 1800's, peeking behind the houses of Queensferry.

And the best view of all, taken down the street, near the Firth of Forth.

Just spectacular, don't you think?

Just who would have thought that one could have so much fun staying in Inverkeithing?  Not many, take my word for it.

But now, we'll be off again,  this time with a last minute reservation in a town called Bonnyrigg. ( Plans changed so we had to adapt. )  

But not before I head off to morning Mass with Pat.  Catholics must be few and far between as patrons here, because he seems very excited to have me here to chat with!

Rest assured, I will be praying for all of those unfortunate victims of Hurricane Sandy.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed today's post.

Until tomorrow.......

Steeler Nation in Scotland

Could there be a better way to begin the day than by enjoying breakfast in this lovely conservatory at The Roods?

Well, actually, there could be:

Being greeted by a fellow member of the Steeler Nation.  Something tells me that we just may see Pat tomorrow wearing a different shirt, but we'll have to wait to see.

As I mentioned, the proprietors here are really quite entertaining which makes the time spent inside rather enjoyable.

I did venture out to try to see the town today, but it was pouring buckets and I got very wet.

But, here's a glimpse at what could be out there to see:

A house built in 1666 by John Henderson still stands on Church Street, one of the few original buildings in Inverkeithing.

Through the rain mist you can see a large vessel on the Firth of Forth.

Very near here is the construction for the new Forth Bridge.  There are two men staying here at the Roods who work at night working on the project.

As most towns here have, a mercat cross stands in the main part of town.  This is a common statue in what would have been "trade" towns.

The first good closeup of a Mercat cross that I have been able to get. Thanks to the clouds, I could zoom in and not have the background light wash out the white unicorn.

There is a war memorial behind the Scottish Church.  It pays tribute to the men of Inverkeithing who died in World War I as well as World War II.  The names are inscribed on metal plates.

 This cannon stands in front of the Civic Center in town.  Someone apparently found it in their background, buried, while they were doing some excavating, and they donated it to the town.

The Cannon dates from 1780 - 1810.

While walking about, I wandered into the Civic Center, hoping to find the local museum.  When I asked  about it, the woman said that one could only tour the museum by appointment, so I crossed that off of the list of things to do in Inverkeithing. Actually, that was the only thing on the list!

But, while inside the center, I spotted this huge picture of the town:

So, I  thought I'd try to recreate it, but it wasn't that easy to do in the pouring rain.  Plus there was no horse and carriage handy.  But, here goes:

The church is a practicing Church of Scotland.  It is the original building, built in the 14th century.  A plaque on the building states that it is on the site where St. Erat preached in the 400's.

By this time, I was really soaked, so I gave up the self-guided tour of the area and headed to the B&B where I then hung my coat to dry.  It was still wet as of last evening, so I wore my cape into Edinburgh for dinner.

Marty and I caught the train and walked to a French restaurant where he had been on one of his business dinners.  The staff annoyed me, as they pretended not to understand me and they spoke with very thick French accents so that you couldn't understand them.  They were young girls, so I found it very hard to believe that they didn't have better English speaking skills.

I had reserved a table online for 7:00 p.m., and Marty and I laughed when we walked in and we were the only two in the restaurant.  A few more people showed up, but we really did have the place to ourselves.

 Marty chose this HUGE French beer to have with his dinner.  Needless to say, we took advantage of the train travel.

As I mentioned yesterday, Isobel is quite into the Halloween decorating, although she was very quick to take everything down as if the event never happened.  But let me just entertain  you with video from two of her querky items.

Yep!  It certainly has been fun!