.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}

canoeing, kayaking and other adventures

canoeing and kayaking adventures born in the Southeastern U.S. and now centered in Scotland...

Monday, August 13, 2007

Catching up with Renee – 11/8/2007 – 12/8/2007

I found out through North American Amy that our mutual friend from high school Renee was going to be in Edinburgh for the Fringe. A couple of emails, voice mails and missed calls later, we found each other at Renee’s kids’ Fringe show. Brian and I got last minute tickets for their closing night. Essentially, it cost us £12 to find Renee. The show itself was awful.

Renee’s kids did a great job with it, but the show itself was awful. Walt Disney’s High School Musical began its life as a cheesy made for TV movie for, surprise surprise, the Disney Channel. The TV movie begat the stage musical and her school was among the first to get the rights to it. Renee’s Busch Gardens skills qualified her to run the sound board and scored her the "free" UK trip. The price was watching fourteen performances and who knows how many rehearsals of HSM as well as occasional babysitting duties. "Eight year olds love it," she said ominously before running off to do her job. An hour and a half later, Brian looked shell shocked. Eight year olds love it, I wondered, but why? Every character cliché was covered more effectively in Grease. This version was even more sanitised.

Final night meant Renee was quite busy, but at least we were able to make plans for Sunday, her big free day. Later in the evening, Brian and I joined Fraser, Kirsty, George, Jo and a departing Kathryn for alcohol and silly games. Cranium is much more fun with alcohol. Fraser, Kirsty and Jo were victorious. Then came Jenga. Then came sleep.

Sunday morning got off to a leisurely start. We were slightly late meeting Renee for 1:15pm, underestimating the time needed to dodge people and walk the beginning of the Arthur’s Seat walk. We found her outside Pollock Halls. She wanted to see non-festival Edinburgh, so we started with the walk up Arthur’s Seat (2nd that day for her) and down the back to Duddingston Village for the Sheep Heid Inn, Edinburgh’s oldest pub (noticing a theme?). One pint and two juices later, we walked along the road to Newington for another round of drinks at Bierex. From Bierex, we headed to the Royal Mile and Bishop’s Close (?) for the Jolly Judge, another tucked away old pub. The hope was it wouldn’t be too swarmed with festival tourists. It wasn’t too bad, so we enjoyed round three there. The plan was Bann’s for dinner to give Renee one final coup for the trip. She was meant to have dinner with her group at the Hard Rock Café. I felt it important to protect her from that and let her enjoy a nice meal on her final night. Bann’s was fully booked, so we went to Black Bo’s, another vegetarian place around the corner that was empty. Renee had a good experience with veggie haggis and all was well.

After the meal, we walked over to Hard Rock to bid her farewell. It was great catching up. Our spotty knowledge of what others were up to caught each of us up by a few years and perhaps bored Brian a bit. It was great talking to her. It’s a shame her partner hadn’t come across as well. We might get to catch up again in a few months, if visiting with my evil twin ends up being a road trip. That would be very cool.

Labels: ,


Renee and I decided to have our picture taken somewhere special.

Labels: ,

Parental and Auntie Invasion – 2/8/2007 – 9/8/2007

Mom had come across when my bicycle had tried to kill me back the end of April. That trip was unplanned. The planned trip for both Mom and Dad as well as Dad’s older sister Judy was set for August. Mom came better prepared for Scottish weather this time.

The parents did a bus tour of Ireland first. Judy stayed in Dublin for a few days. They arrived to Edinburgh Thursday afternoon, Judy during the afternoon and parents in the early evening. After getting them situated in the B&B, including a room swap to get Judy out of the single that made her claustrophobic and into a double that was more spacious, we set out for dinner. I got half price tickets for the Edinburgh Military Tattoo preview show, so we made our way to the Royal Mile, found dinner and then queued with the masses into our sardine can seats. Turns out I got us great seats. Nearly an hour’s worth of refresh on the computer plus some guesswork on where to sit had paid off. We were left of centre in the first row, so not nearly as claustrophobic as those seated behind us. Half of the performers exited beneath us. The show itself was interesting. It was half price because we got to watch the skirmish line of photographers chase and be chased by each of the bands. I’m assuming they set that show up to get the photos out of the way all at once, rather than disturb each performance. The Russians nearly got a few of them, high stepping all the way across the square. After the show, we experienced the joy of the night bus back to my neighbourhood to call it a night.

I spent Friday day at work while my visitors toured the city. In the evening, I had plans for us to all meet for dinner. I picked up the hire car and played taxi. Brian met us at the Sheep Heid Inn, Edinburgh’s oldest pub where we had a nice meal and made plans for travels up north. We made it an early night.

The plan was to head for Inverness and Culloden, stopping at Killiecrankie and other places in Perthshire along the way. Saturday morning, we set out after my family had a skirmish with the B&B proprietor for cancelling their 2nd reservation with less than (invent a number, because that’s what she did) days notice. I drove the hire car and Brian followed. We stopped first in Pitlochry for a snack at a local pub and brief shopping and then headed for Killiecrankie just a few miles away.

Judy’s knee was acting up, so she stayed at the visitor centre reading while we wandered down to the River Garry, Soldier’s Leap and the other important parts of that battle. Brian explained the history of it to my dad. After that walk, and after my parents chatted with the locals a while, we headed back to collect Judy, enjoy ice cream and continue our journey north. Judging by the time, we weren’t likely to reach Culloden before the visitor centre there closed, so we chose instead to stay in Perthshire a little longer. An aborted visit to Blair Atholl Castle (you had to pay just to access the grounds, not just the castle anymore) was followed by a shopping stop at the House of Bruar. Judy found her cashmere. I think Mom may have bought some tea towels. Brian and I wandered and accused each other of being a grown up to pass the time. Dad took up the sentry post outside and rested his eyes.

The next stop was Carrbridge for nose powdering. Brian and I chose fantasy kayak lines at the site of the old bridge. We reached Inverness around American dinner time. The B&B was nice. While my family discussed everything else with the woman who ran the house, Brian and I scoped out dinner options with her husband. We walked to the city centre and had dinner at a nice Indian restaurant, the same one where I had my post-marathon meal. After dinner, Mom and Judy went back to the B&B and Dad joined Brian and me for a walk along the River Ness.

Next morning, breakfast was great. We dropped Mom and Judy off at Eastgate Shopping Centre while we headed off to Culloden. We walked the grounds, which must still be eerie in the best of weather, and Brian corrected Dad’s History Channel account of events. The battle at Culloden was a massacre (the Scots lost badly), so essentially, it is a mass graveyard with stones marking approximate burial sites for each clan.

We headed back for Inverness at lunchtime, regrouped, got Brian back to his car and headed southwest along the north bank of Loch Ness for the Nessie statue at Drumnadrochit. Brian bid us farewell there and headed back to Edinburgh. We continued along Loch Ness for photos at Uruqhart Castle and then set out for Torridon by way of the Black Isle. It was pretty much a straight shot. The last few miles introduced my family to Highland singletrack and Highland midges. We had dinner and spent the night at the Torridon Inn, formerly the Ben Dampf Inn, but they hadn’t updated the website yet.

Breakfast the next day was great. The kitchen made me fresh gluten free bread, which avoided the sawdust character of the prepackaged stuff and was actually pretty good.

From Torridon, we had an epic drive to the Mull ferry at Lochaline, but pretty well all day to do it. It rained for most of the drive. The scenery was gorgeous, misty and eerie. We stopped at Eilean Donan Castle for a stretch and Kyle of Lochalsh for lunch. We decided to minimise singletrack and headed for Fort William instead of the Mallaig ferry from Skye. The weather wasn’t great to merit the ferry excursion for sightseeing anyway. After Fort William traffic and another stretch break, we picked up the ferry from Corran to Morvern and skittered down more singletrack to the ferry at Lochaline. We were early enough to catch the second to last ferry of the day, which put us in Mull at American dinner time.

The B&B was easy to find in the village of Salen. The proprieter outtalked my parents but set us straight for Tobermory. Two turns were required. Sick of driving, I let Dad get acquainted to highland singletrack, which wasn’t an experience for those prone to carsickness. Dinner at Tobermory was great. We were seated next to a party of people who sounded like Kathryn, so I made a mental note to ask George where she was from (south Glasgow was the answer). We took some sunset/twilight photos of the village and headed back for sleep.

Next morning, the plan was Iona. It was an hour’s drive via either the short or long route, mostly singletrack. Dad got better, but it was still good that none of us were prone to carsickness. Cars on Iona required permits, which meant we took the ferry across as passengers. It’s amazing country there. 120 inhabitants plus who knows how many visitors. The perimeter of the island is 6 miles. Most or all of the inhabitants seemed to live on the leeward side. Given Scotland’s reputation for wind, I can understand why. With a bad knee, Judy wasn’t keen on much walking. She walked a little. Then she and Mom headed back toward the main “village” for tea and scones. Dad and I wandered more. Our goal was to see the Atlantic and get back in time for one of the sightseeing trips. We met the first goal, but because we didn’t decide and therefore book a boat cruise (and no one else had either) we missed the latter. It was a good scouting mission for a return trip with Brian and bicycles.

Ferry back, return to B&B, lounging, wandering, dinner in Tobermory, and sleep followed. Dad’s singletrack skills improved a bit more. The next morning, I made a quick run back to Tobermory for whisky chocolate as a thank you gift for Brian for playing tour guide on the weekend. Then we headed for the ferry to Oban, which wasn’t set to leave until 1pm. Sadly, the first boat of the day had been fully booked. I think my aunt and my mom were thoroughly bored. My dad confessed to be reaching his travel threshold. It was getting time to head for home.

The plan for the day was to reach Stirling and find one night’s accommodation. We reached Oban around 2pm, stopped for tea and scones at the Green Welly Stop tourist trap. Next stop was Hamish the Highland Coo outside Callander for the photos I promised Mom she would get before the end of the trip. We were in Stirling an hour later searching for B&B after Dad got christened on a few hardcore roundabouts. We lucked out, catching the last two rooms on the B&B block heading in from Bridge of Allan.

Dinner was at a nice pub/restaurant called Birds and Bees, so named because the property used to be a farm way back when.

The next morning, we told the woman who ran it we were off to see Mel at the Wallace Monument and we unleashed her disdain for the tacky statue that nobody wanted. We told her of the Sly Stallone statue that the Art Museum in Philadelphia didn’t want but eventually got stuck with. We understood each other’s pain. After breakfast, while my family continued the conversation, I fixed her internet for her.

We got to Mel and the William Wallace Monument around 10am. Judy and Mom took the shuttle to the top. I walked my dad into the ground on the way up the hill on foot. Southern New Jersey is flat so he was unprepared. We still beat the shuttle van. Judy passed on the hike to the monument top. Mom abandoned as soon as she saw the windy narrow stairs. Dad and I accepted the challenge. The first level had a history of events related to William Wallace and one of Brian’s ancestors, Andrew Moray. The next level was the hall of heroes, featuring busts of famous Scots. The third level described the history of the monument from idea to execution. The top gave great views across Stirlingshire with little placards to tell what each feature and lump in the distance was.

Post-Mel, Dad decided against Stirling Castle and instead we went searching for Bannockburn. A few more roundabout christenings later, we toured Bannockburn town and eventually found the right spot. Like Culloden, it, too, is just a field. It has a bigger monument and a big statue of Robert the Bruce. Unlike Culloden, Bannockburn was a victory for the Scots, securing Scotland as independent, RtB as King of Scotland and a few years of peace before the next English attempt at conquest.

We headed back to Edinburgh for one final night’s hurrah. I had booked their rooms at the Braid Hills Hotel. We got the last two rooms they had. Festival time makes everything more expensive and harder to find, so they were fortunate. Dad and I retrieved luggage and then all of us set off for one last meal in the city centre. Everybody decided pub food would be a good end, so we found a place on Rose Street that was fairly traditional but had food I could eat. Dad drank one last Guinness for the road. I explained the nuances of British customer service to everyone (no one really wants to help you, but the Scots, generally, are polite about not helping you). I had to reexplain it when Mom was about to ask the bartender who rushed out with our meals for a glass of water. I don’t think she understood and instead I think she felt insulted by me for telling her.

We took a taxi back to the hotel and said our goodbyes. Parents had a way early flight and I had plans of working Friday. Goodbyes were repeated 10 minutes later when I returned with forgotten CDs from the hire car.

The followup from my parents said that their Ryanair journey was uneventful. Mom’s repacking and leaving items for me to carry got them through with no overage charge on their bags. I forgot to ask them how many layers of clothes they wore for that. Delays and incompetence slowed them down by about four hours once they landed in Newark. They picked up the dog from his spa trip at the local kennel and he got back to work holding down the carpets in the house. All were tired puppies.

Labels: ,


Chatty parents and a bored/bemused Brian at Killiecrankie.

Labels: , ,


Eerie Culloden, view from the Scots line toward the English line.

Labels: , ,


Nessie!

Labels: , ,


Moody Torridon, just before the rain got serious.

Labels: , ,


I made a friend on Iona.

Labels: , ,


Landscape service?

Labels: , ,


Cows under the Atlantic

Labels: , ,


The beach at Iona, leeward side facing Fionnphort, Mull.

Labels: , ,


Twilit Tobermory

Labels: , ,


Shiny Oban-Craignure ferry.

Labels: , ,


Mom, Aunt Judy and Dad with Mel.

Labels: , ,


Dad's view up to me atop the Wallace Monument in Stirling.

Labels: , ,


My view.

Labels: , ,


Dad recreates the English march to defeat, or so we thought based on the handy diagram.

Labels: , ,