2011 June 15 Stirling and Edinburough

[David and Susan Bratt]

Just north of Glasgow and Edinburgh, Scotland is only about 35 miles wide. The Highlands begin here, and the only real break in the hills is at Stirling. So, of course, a castle fortification was built there in the 1200s, and for hundreds of years it housed kings when it wasn’t being fought over. The castle is high on a cliff, reached by narrow roads winding right through the city, so we drove Rover to a Park and Ride at the foot of the hill and let the bus driver do the work. Even in the continuous rainfall that day, the castle was a major tourist attraction. Our purchase of the National Trust pass has saved us a great deal of money on entrance fees in England, and we’ve been pleased to find that Scotland accepts it at many sites, too.

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The campground near Stirling, with beautiful views of the hills, not only had a black water dump just for us but also supplied a long hose so we could add water to the toilet tank and rinse it out. We think this is only the second time we’ve been able to do this in all of our trips.
(Moving on from our preoccupation with sewage:)

When we left Stirling we drove through the village of Dollar and then--our favorite so far--The Pool of Muckhart. It was a lovely little place. The names of villages continually make us smile. Make a circle with thumb and forefinger, place it anywhere on a map of England, and you will see at least half a dozen names that make you laugh. There’s Burpham, Lickfold, Wineham (just west of Twineham), Didling and Barripper. Then there is West Taphouse, East Taphouse, and Middle Taphouse; also The Quarter, Stede Quarter, Haffenden Quarter and Further Quarter--all within a couple of miles of each other. But if you put that same circle over the map of Scotland, often you will come up with nothing. There are miles and miles of uninhabited highlands, populated only by the thousands of sheep we see on the hills. But the few towns there are are often just as charming and sometimes unpronounceable.

There are golf courses everywhere in this part of Scotland, and we were getting close to the game’s birthplace at St Andrews. To play at the famous St Andrews course, it is necessary to make a reservation a year in advance or hope to win the lottery to play on a Saturday. We drove farther north, through the hills to Scone just for the views; the next day we turned back south to Edinburgh.

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The campground in Edinburgh was a huge improvement over Glasgow’s. It is a big place: a wide, sloping field with a few hedges. There is WiFi, a bus at the gate (and a 30-minute ride to the city center), a shop, restaurant and bar and all the necessities. Among the tourist sites in the city was one we hadn’t expected: the Royal Yacht “Britannia,” now decommissioned, is berthed permanently at a dock just north of the city. We were able to tour all 412 feet, including the Queen’s own rooms and everything else. It was all done quite simply, not the over-the-top, gold/ regal look one might expect.

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There is much to see and do in Edinburgh, and a lot of it involves plaid. We also saw and heard tourists from all over the world. It rains here a lot, but five minutes later the sun will be shining . . . until it rains again. All in all, it was a good place to be for three days. But tomorrow we head east and south: we have a ferry to catch at the end of the month.