I started blogging a decade ago during an Air Force deployment to Iraq and kept at it when I got back. Since then, I’ve written for DadCentric, City Dads Group, Humor Blogs, and other sites. This site is primarily for our family travels and adventures, because I forget stuff if I don’t write it down. Who am I? A guy who wasn’t sure he’d ever get married or have children but found himself with 4 children, a wife, and a dog in 5 years. A guy who’s deployed…
On Monday, we began our second day in Scotland with hopes of touring the Palace of Holyroodhouse, but the Queen was there, meaning no tours were to be conducted. So, we walked to Edinburgh Castle and saw the prisons where (eventual) American POWs were kept during our Revolutionary War. Did you ever think about that? The fact that colonists were taken as POWs and shipped to modern day Scotland to be imprisoned? I hadn’t until I saw a carved flag in the wood.
We also saw where loyal dogs were buried, the Scottish crown jewels, the Stone of Scone (or “Stone of Destiny”), St. Margaret’s Chapel (built in the 12th century!), and the “one o’clock gun.”
A few hours later, we visited the National Museum of Scotland. We didn’t have as much time there as we needed, but we marveled at the many exhibits from the natural history, textile, and archaeology sections. The kids were into it, and so were the adults.
Then, it was time for dinner at the Elephant House, but the wait was enormous, so we opted for a picture in front of the place where Ms Rowling penned the “Harry Potters” instead; we ate at Pizza Paradise, which was fine. Then, I bought a pipe that was made in Scotland and a Cuban cigar to enjoy with some coffee before our tour of Mary King’s Close.
The latter tour was very interesting, as it included live actors showing us how life in Edinburgh was hundreds of years ago in areas of the city that are now mainly underground (but can be toured in the sections that have been unearthed). We saw where those afflicted with the plague had to gather and the varying living conditions for the poor vs. the affluent. At one point, our guide was showing us an old saw maker’s shop through a window, and I looked off to the right, at the end of the “close” (or alley way). I saw a lady in period costume, much like our guide, but she was translucent. We looked at each other a few seconds; I glanced away; I looked back, and she was gone. At the conclusion of our tour, I asked our guide about the hologram of the woman at the end of the hall, and she tilted her head. “We don’t have–I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” One of the children said they saw her, too, but no one else in our party did (though none were looking, either).
It was then time to walk back to our flat, but we took the scenic route along Holyrood Park, stopping briefly to ask a police officer which way to walk back to see Arthur’s Seat in the background. He asked where we were from; we told him, and he said he’d just come back after living several years in Nashville, as he’d married a Vandy grad. He likes Johnny Cash just like I like Johnny Cash.
It was 10:30 pm, but the park looked like this:
It was 3 hours past the children’s normal bedtime on a day that my fitbit showed 20,000 steps, and they’re gazing at swans in front of a pond with a castle in the background. See why we think Scotland is magical? Because Scotland is magical.
I thought we’d never see this sign.
We arrived at the Atlanta airport in the early afternoon on July 1, intending to fly Delta to JFK around 5pm, but they evacuated our plane right after bumping me to first class, so we caught another plane, where I again got bumped to first class, and I worried whether we’d make it in time to board our plane to Edinburgh about 10pm and land at 10 the next morning, local time. But instead, we diverted to Rochester, sat on the ground a few hours, and then landed at JFK at 1am. God was telling me I shouldn’t have left my family back in coach.
Then we stood in separate lines several gates apart (while I sat on hold on my phone) for a few hours, trying to figure out how to get across the Atlantic, as our 3 small children sat on the floor next to all our unchecked luggage. At 5am, we took off to Heathrow in London and landed in the late afternoon local time. A couple more hours on the phone and in conversation with a British Airways gate agent, and we were heading to Edinburgh. We landed at 11:30pm and waited for a taxi outside, which was 50 degrees less than Atlanta was outside when we dressed for our flight, while I texted our Air BnB owner that we’d made it to her country and to please hide the key for us somewhere (she was threatening to go to sleep). At 1am, our taxi dropped us off at our flat; the owner left us a key with a neighbor.
We climbed to the 6th floor of our building on Royal Park Terrace by Holyrood Park, claimed our sleeping spaces, and caught 5 hours of sleep before our scheduled Sunday morning tour of Loch Ness and the Highlands that would involve 12 hours on a tour bus. We’d lost our first day, but we would make our first organized tour. We were all in Scotland for the first time for any of us–land of my paternal grandmother’s people and my bride’s paternal line. And we were going to enjoy it, dammit.
Cafe Nero provided our first local meal–coffee and more coffee–before we boarded our bus and headed north. We pulled over once we’d slipped the bonds of the city and entered the Highlands. We even talked our guide, Kenny, into posing with us for a picture.
A bit more time in the bus, and we were pulling up to Loch Ness for a trip across the black waters in search of a prehistoric beast that looked something like this:
The boat ride was interesting, fun, and relaxing at the same time. They had screens for the passengers to see sonar images of the bottom of the loch, so that we could search for signs of life in the water. The children loved it. It stopped in front of the Urquhart Castle.
The guided tour continued a bit farther, turned around, and then returned to the dock. The children bought souvenirs; I bought a beer.
Then it was back into the tour bus. Kenny warned us the roads ahead would be hilly and curvy and narrow, but he didn’t warn us that the mayo on the sandwiches we’d taken for the boat ride might have been too warm, and my youngest didn’t warn us that she’d be vomiting all over herself and her mother in the back seat of our bus.
The views were magnificent. Magical, even. Lush green towering above black rivers and lakes into a misty canopy that faded into the cloud cover above.
We stopped by a monument honoring the original Commandos (my high school’s mascot!) in 1940–the British special forces that fought in WWII. Our tour made additional stops to see more areas of natural beauty along the way –old stone bridges, water falls, mountains, and lakes–before returning to Edinburgh on the Royal Mile. It was sunny past 10pm, so we walked around town for a bit, exploring the closes that branched off the Royal Miles before returning to our quarters.
Our first day in Scotland began early and ended late, but now that I’m back from this 18-day trip to the United Kingdom and have the benefit of hindsight, I can honestly say it was one of our family’s favorite days (or perhaps most favorite!). Leaving the Atlanta heat and congestion for the wide open green spaces and cool temperatures of this area of Scotland is an activity we now want to do annually!
This weekend, I had a professional conference at Amelia Island, Florida, and I was talking late one evening with a friend’s husband who travels a lot, and he was saying he carries disinfectant wipes with him when he’s on the road, so that he can wipe down hotel remotes when he checks in for the week, since (he assures me) the hotels’ staff aren’t cleaning TV remote controls. I was puzzled by this ritual and pointed out that I never turn on my TV in hotel rooms, because I’m always out “doing stuff” like “exploring the city I’m in” or “enjoying local restaurants and bars,” etc.
He said, “Well, when you’re there all week and are by yourself, you’d probably turn on TV in the evenings, and you gotta figure guys are watching the dirty movies they have and masturbating, and then they turn the TV off before bed with their unclean hands.”
“No, that’s not something I would ‘figure’ at all, but it makes sense now that you explain it.” Then I thought for a minute. “Actually, last night, our children went to be pretty early, so we pulled out my ipad pro and watched an episode of ‘Daredevil’ on Netflix. We haven’t touched our hotel remote at all the past 3 days!” And, I immediately felt better.
Thanks, streaming Netflix. You’re keeping strange semen off my hands.