RoundTheWorld

From Rome to Hogwarts

Monday, May 31

Today dawns slightly cloudy. That's a good thing for the temperatures in our room, but we wonder what it means for the rest of the day. Breakfast today is a modest continental - a plate of pressed ham and processed cheese, juice, cereal, canned peach wedges, and a bowl of plain yogurt. Oh, and toast. We won't starve.

We wander into town and into the Roman Baths. There aren't too many people around when we begin our tour. This is another one with audio guides; find the number on your attraction, punch it in, and put the guide to your ear to hear the recorded explanation. It's well done. The baths were restored to the level of the Roman baths in the late 20th century. So we see what's left of the Roman fittings, and well as the now high-and-dry alcoves and seating for the baths of later centuries.
 
We tour the upper floor, looking down into the main bathing pool and the sacred spring. And then tour the lower floor ; here there are a series of excavations that show the Roman drain, the hypocaust, Roman immersion bath rooms, a room for cooling off after the baths, and others. It is an extensive complex, and evidently extended underneath where the Abbey now stands. We wander among the ruins for a good hour and a half, finishing in the Pump Room, an elegant dining room with a cello and piano duo and white linen tablecloths. Here you can have tea, or get a drink of spring water for 50p. We pass.


Next we wander into the Abbey. It is a beautiful building. The arches soar up to ornamented ceilings. The stained glass windows are lovely, and there are plenty of clear windows as well to let in the light. We wander down to the vaults, where there are exhibits illustrating the history of the churches that were built on this site. It's a little odd to be walking on the remains of those buried beneath the abbey floor, but such was the custom in great cathedrals. We spend some time as well examining the memorials on the walls; the folk memorialized here were buried under the floor as well.

The Abbey is a thriving church, with a large staff. A display shows us the faces and titles of those who keep it running; there must be a good two dozen.

Now it's time for lunch, and we settle on a sandwich place on a corner; hot tea, coffee, and a cheese and pickle on baguette. Pickle, by the way, is a tomato-based concoction with onions and spices; more like a chutney than a pickle relish. And it's good on sandwiches. Who needs mayo?

We've booked a MadMax tour for the afternoon to Stonehenge and Lacock Village. This is a fine excursion, although we could have used more time at each stop. Seatbelts fastened, we careen through the countryside in a minibus, and our guide, Matt, comments as we go. We learn that our hotel is actually in Bathwick (and this time you say the "w") rather than in Bath proper.

We leave Somerset and spend most of our time in Wiltshire. It takes about an hour to get to Stonehenge. There Matt goes ahead to purchase our tickets, so we don't have to queue (British English for stand in line). We pick up our audio guides (another well-done tour) and head up the path. There are beaucoup people here, but the path is far enough away from the stones that you can get some lonely-looking pictures. The sky obliges with some gray clouds, setting the mood, but no rain. The path is quite wide, so you never feel crowded.

We learn some fascinating things about how the stones were shaped and fitted. If you're interested, let me know ... or consult Wikipedia. Many of things we heard were likely the result of reconstruction efforts carried out in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s. We are allotted 40 minutes at the henge. That's just barely adequate. But it's enough time for me to take entirely too many pictures.

Now we set off over narrow country roads through the Salisbury Plain, the Marlborough Downs emerging on our right, to the village of Lacock. The village is an old one, built to relocate peasants when the nobles wished to build a lake where they lived. Some buildings are as old as the 14th century, and the look has been preserved quite well; the only modern inventions we spot are drainpipes, although I'd warrant there are satellite dishes in the back. The houses are sold only to those who can prove some connection with prior residents, so not just anyone can buy a house here. (I read in Wikipedia that the whole village is owned by the National Trust, so I guess that explains a lot about its antique facade.)

This is a popular site for films, including the recent Jane Austen film, as well as the Harry Potter films. On our little walk-around tour, we see Professor Slughorn's house, and Harry's parents (his real parents, now!) house. And after, we hike quickly down the road to catch a view of Lacock Abbey, aka Hogwarts . The town is stuffed with cars and people. This is a Bank Holiday Monday, and it's also the Scarecrow Hunt day. The Scarecrow Hunt is something like a scavenger hunt; you're given a sheet of clues, and you have to match them up with the various scarecrows stationed throughout the town. We could surely use more than 40 minutes here, but it's all we have.

So it's back on the minibus, and back to Bath. As has become our custom, soon to be abandoned when we leave this sceptered isle, we head for the pub. This time we stop at The Boater, just across Pulteney Bridge, where we taste the best bitter we've yet had. Excellent stuff.  Were we here longer, The Boater would be our local.

Today's pictures start here.

Bath

Sunday, May 30

It is a bank holiday weekend, so we expect that things will be busy today. To top that off, it's sunny and quite warm. The wind is still cool, but standing in the sun, it's hot. The girls convention (it appears that it's a reunion of girls who attended a particular public school, what we call a private school, here in Bath) is breaking up. The breakfast room when we enter around 8 is quiet, but later in the morning  it gets rather raucous as the late drinkers/late sleepers arrive to break their fasts.

I take advantage of the secure wireless to take care of the month's bills. Our room is very hot, for two reasons. First, the morning sun is blasting in the three tall windows. Second, the pipes that run through the bathroom and the end of the room are hot as well; clearly the boiler is still on. But the lounge is cool and breezy; there are overstuffed chairs and sofas and plenty of outlets. So I pass a quiet hour, and then a little time more running a disk check; the blue screen of death has struck, so I'm taking precautions.

We set out later than we planned to the i-site. Here we pick up several brochures. We ask about the bus to Heathrow, but no one here seems to know about it. Maybe the info in the guidebook is old. But we do book a half-day tour to Stonehenge. We decide to while away some time walking the river walk. According to the map we found, there is an extensive walk that runs along one side of the other of the Kennet and Avon Canal, from Bristol to the west and on to Bradford on Avon to the east.

There are also boat trips. There are local trips up from the weir at Pulteney Bridge toward Bristol, and down from the weir is a boat tour of historic Bath. There are  also the "narrowboats" that can naviate the canal's narrow locks; there are longer trips and charter trips on these boats.

We have a nice walk along the river through Bath, but it's nothing spectacular. We stop at a park to eat our lunch sandwich, and then walk back through town. Since it's nearly time for the afternoon Mayor's Tour of Bath, we decide to check that out. This docent-led tour of about two hours is absolutely free, and well worth it.

The tour highlights the abbey, the baths, and the Georgian architecture of the city. We learn that a huge Norman church and monastery once dominated the town, and before that there was a small Celtic church on the same site. The Norman church was razed and the elegant Abbey of modern day was built here in the 1700s, under the guidance of Bishop Oliver King.

There are three natural mineral hot springs in the city, and we are shown the sites. Although the local population always knew about the springs, the Romans were the first to exploit them by building baths. The ruins of those Roman baths were discovered while building and renovating more modern baths in the 18th century. The lure of Roman ruins added to Bath's reputation as a spa town. There is a very modern spa here, using the natural waters, and offering all the other spa treatments you could want.

Bath became a very popular spot in the 1700's, due partly to the baths and ruins, and partly to the patronage of kings and courts, beginning with Queen Anne, who believed in the healing properties of the waters. As a result of its popularity, there was a building boom. Architects John Wood father and son are responsible for the look of much of the town,  heavily influenced by classical architecture.

We see the Royal Crescent, a curve of large adjoined family homes built on top of a hill overlooking pasture lands. We see the Circus , a circular array of same around a circular grassy park. And elsewhere in the city, there are Georgian or neo-Georgian facades. The use of locally quarried sandstone also contributes to the harmonious appearance of the houses and buildings. Of course the honey-colored stone looks much better today, having been cleaned of the accretion of coal smoke that coated it in the 1700s.

And of course there are the Assembly Rooms, used for parties, dances, and other social functions. After all, one couldn't spend all one's time in hot water. Of course, those taking the water not only bathed, but drank the water for its restorative properties. Once can still drink the water at the local Pump Room.

After the tour we make a side trip to Marks and Spencer searching for nougat.  We are, in the end, successful. And now it's time to sit down, so we find the smallest pub in Bath and enjoy a locally-brewed cask ale. Then it's time for a side trip to check out the menus for a Jamie Oliver restaurant and for a nearby seafood restaurant.


Then it's down the hill and across Pulteney Bridge to our hotel. We learned on our tour that this bridge is, along with the Ponte Vecchio in Florence,one of the few to be built with shops actually on the bridge. How about that?

Right now we're in our room, I with feet up. We'll go out for some dinner in a while. Tomorrow we've got several alternatives for the morning (tour of the Roman Baths, a look in the abbey) and an afternoon trip to Stonehenge. Tuesday we'll likely do the Bath Skyline hike, a six-mile circular walk billed as "countryside in the city". Of course that's weather permitting.

Today's pictures start here.

Keswick to Bath

Saturday, May 29

Today is a cloudy, drizzly day, a perfect day for travel. We buy cheese, apples, and bread for lunch at Booth's, and board the bus for Penrith. We arrive a few minutes late, but in plenty of time to catch the first of today's three trains ... which is late.

The 2-1/2 hour journey isn't particularly scenic; the train runs much of the time below the level of the surrounding fields or screened by trees and shrubbery. We can see enough to know that we're definitely in hedgerow country now. The well-groomed hedges separate the fields and pastures. There are a few stone walls, but not many.

We arrive late at Birmingham New Street, scurrying to the platform for train #2 to find the doors closed and the train ready to pull out. There's another train in an hour, so we wait over tea and coffee in the bustling station. Where are all these people going on a Saturday? This train, the 1512 for Penzance, which we ride to Bristol Temple Meads station, is very crowded -- a lot of people missed the 1412!

Our third and final train runs to Bath Spa. We have a choice, actually, and end up on a local. The local leaves earlier but arrives about the same time as the express. It's shortly after 5 p.m. when we are decanted onto the platform in Bath.

The next task is to find our hotel, the Redcar, on Henrietta Street. We do the reliable thing and head for the Visitor Center, the i-site. It is closed, but the city map displayed in the window shows us our route. Up and across the bridge, then right and left.

We find the Redcar Hotel. It appears that there's some sort of convention going on, and all the attendees are women. They are chatting and drinking and laughing; I'm worn out and hungry. We check in and drag our bags up to the second (read third, you Americans) floor.

Our room is spacious and clean, if somewhat worn. The signage reveals that this was once a Comfort Inn -- that will give you an idea of the amenities. The floor creaks; pity the folk with the room beneath ours. This is a family room -- a double and a twin, plus a worn fold-out couch.

We don't waste a lot of time unpacking. Instead we go in search of a pub. The first one we pass, on Bridge Street near our hotel, doesn't catch Bob's fancy. As we turn the next corner, the rain begins. It's a light but steady rain, with mild wind. We shelter for a while in a deeply recessed doorway, but eventually brave the elements. Shop after shop, tea room after coffee house, we traverse Bath Centre. Not a pub in sight.

After a stop at Sainsburys near the station, we head back toward the square, and find not one pub but two. We choose one, and settle in for an ale and dinner -- a calamari appetizer, a side salad, and a chicken and shellfish paella: not gourmet but adequate.

I have not one picture for you today. My camera was in my backpack and the view from the train is certainly not inspiring. Tomorrow we will visit the i-site and plan our next couple of days. Weather permitting, we will also take a stroll on the canal paths along the Avon.

Derwentwater and Castelrigg Stone Circle

Friday, May 28

Today is another lovely, sunny day. Breakfasted and togged out for the day, we arrive at the Visitor's Center a half hour before they open. That won't do. So we walk to the bottom of the hill to Booth's, a largish grocery store, and buy a ham and mature cheese on baguette for our lunch. We've also packed a packet of biscuits (cookies) and the small bag of M&Ms left from yesterday.

At the Visitor's Center, we decide on a hike (circle trip to a henge) and a boat ride (around Derwentwater). For the former we buy a pamphlet guide, 70p. For the latter, we buy a senior  ticket, 7 pounds. There is a message there, but I'm not sure just what it is.

We decide to do the boat ride before the weather turns (if it does). It turns out to be a short ride; Derwentwater is a pint-sized lake compared to Loch Lomond, along which we hike for the better part of 3 days on the West Highland Way. And the water level in the lake is low, so the two stops at either end of the lake are closed. Still, it is a pleasant walk down to the launch site. Once there, we clamber aboard and put on layers against the wind. I'm glad I've brought my gloves. As an aside, the lakes in the Lake District generally are named Crummock Water or Buttermerre, rather than Something Lake.

We exit at High Brandelhow (Brandel-hoe, as it's said) and walk the shade-dappled coastal path up to Hawes End, the launch site we missed on our hike yesterday. It's maybe half a mile. We can't believe we've found the right place until we locate the signpost that points us back to where we've come from.  At Hawse End, we idle until the next launch comes along and takes us back to Keswick. In the process of preparing for the return trip,  B discovers he has only one glove. That won't do.

We hike back into town and head for Acorn House in search of the elusive second glove. It doesn't show up anywhere. So we add buying new gloves for B. to the afternoon's list. The next order of business, however, is lunch. We take our sandwich and cookies out to the small table in our B&B's rear garden, where we have a very peaceful and pleasant lunch. The only sounds are the occasional car on the street above, and bird calls.

Lunch over, we set out for Castlerigg Stone Circle. There are two ways to go: via the loop trail, as in the guide we bought; and straight up and back from the town. I have tried to tell B three different ways that  I'd prefer the expedient up and back. But he's not hearing. So we set off up the road away from town. As a bonus the hedges are blooming, and there are flowers on the verge. We walk up a very gradual incline to the ridge, and the travel along it, though more sheep fields and sheep s**t, to yet another road.

This is a very narrow road, with stone walls on each side. At the narrowest part, a car approaches from behind us. We squeeze into the bushes to let it by. Gee, I sure hope we don't encounter two cars going in opposite directions. After a time on this road, we come to a step-stile built into the stone wall. The guide says "over the step-stile", so we clamber up the rock steps sticking out of the rock wall, and down the other side.

There in front of us is the henge, or stone circle. Castlerigg henge is some 4500 years old, 1000 years older then its more famous sister, Stonehenge. The stones are not so large, but it's on a hilltop with a 360-degree view and clearly the stones were brought here and place in a slightly irregular circle.  The site is circled by ridges and fells (hills). And there's not much around. I wonder what the neolithic people who erected this circle did here?

Diana Gabaldon in mind, I touch some of the stones; nothing buzzes, and I don't disappear into a time 200 years earlier. I guess it's just too far from the celestial event (equinox or solstice) that brings the stones to life.

Our way back into town is through one of three gates (and to think I had to climb that intimidating step-stile) and a fairly short downhill,, mostly on roads. We make our way to the pencil museum (graphite is a resource in the region, and there's still a pencil factory in town), but after a wander through the gift shop, we decide we're just not that interested in seeing the museum. So we head back up the hill into town to glove shop.

We  try several outdoor stores. Finally, B finds what he wants. We are now free to visit the Dog and Gun again and sip an ale. We sat in this pub last night and used the internet. It was crowded when we arrived at 5:30. It's a popular place. It also supports the Keswick Mountain Rescue. One can make a donation by putting a coin in a box on the bar, or by wedging a coin in amongst the rough rock work in the bar area. It grew late as we sat, so we ordered dinner: goulash on dumplings and new potatoes for B, a beef and mushroom pie with mash and peas for me. I left the crust, and a good bit of the mash, but not one single pea!

Today we enjoy our ales and move on, back to Acorn House for hot tea and cookies. The maids also leave four candies in our room each day, and we have certainly enjoyed these. Soon it's back down the hill in search of fish and chips.

Tomorrow we leave for Bath: bus to Penrith at 10:20 and three trains, one after another. It's supposed to rain. Oh, well.

Right now I'm sitting in the Square Orange Cafe Bar, where you can get an espresso or  a cask ale. Looks like a coffee bar, equipped for anything. Wireless access is free, but if you want to plug in, you are asked to pay a pound at the bar.

Today's pictures start here.

Keswick and Catbells

Thursday, May 27

The day dawned bright and sunny ... and early. We forgot to close the curtains! Tea in bed, a hot shower, and down to breakfast we go. On the menu is the Full English Breakfast, but there are alernatives. There is a lovely bowl of fruit -- kiwi, strawberry, orange sections -- on the buffet, as well as yogurt. And there are bananas. Yum! I choose beans on toast and B opts for scrambled eggs on an English muffin, topped with smoked salmon. (No kippers here, hurrah!)

  Booted and jacketed, we set out down the hill through town on our route to Catbells and Newlands, described as a "challenging route onto popular fells". The first mile or so takes us across fields (sheep and more sheep) and through a small town nearby. Wild carrot grows by the field paths. The blown seedheads of dandelions are thick in the meadows. The wind is in our faces, and it's one of those lazy winds -- goes right through you. The clouds move across the sun, then reveal it. Next we head up and through a lovely forest. It's green and quiet, except for the birdcalls and the occasional crunch of my boot. The rhododendrons are just beginning to bloom in the sunny spaces.


Then we begin to climb up the ridge of the Catbells. Our flimsy paper guide gives us no clue as to why these hills are called "Catbells". I'll have to look it up. (Perhaps for "Cat's Bield", meaning refuge of the wildcat, according to Wikipedia.) One hump, two humps, and the views back to Keswick and the Derwentwater, Keswick's lake and river, are stunning. Then a third great hump that is the summit. The top half of this climb is in part a rocky scramble. I follow a couple of old gents who clearly know the way. Once I'm over the one big step, all goes well.  But if those guys weren't ahead of me, I'm sure I wouldn't know the best way up.

Of course it's cold at the top, so we quickly head down the other side. At the saddle, we turn right and climb down a steep rocky path by an old lead and copper mine, the Yewthwaite. Next we make a loop up the valley; fields, sheep, and sheep droppings.It begins to spit rain, but soon stops, and we're back to alternating sun and gloom. 

And we finally find the old Newlands Church, sitting in the middle of a field, surrounded by a stone wall. There is no one else here. The church is open; there are flowers on the altar and a month-by-month list in the vestibule naming the flower ladies. Old graves and new are side by side in the churchyard. A school at one time, the church was restored and reconsecrated relatively recently.

The way back leads up and through a small hamlet, then across farm after farm. We walk along a ridge through the high pastures, opening and closing the gates as we go. Finally, the path begins a gradual descent toward Derwentwater. We stop in a cleared space and eat our lunch sandwich (corned beef and branston pickle) while sitting on a rock.

The guide ends this hike with a trip on the lake from Hawes End. We somehow miss Hawes End, and end up walking all the way back to Keswick instead. I was ready for that boat trip, and not at all for the 3 mile hike back. Rats. The guide says some 13 km. So, with the hike back, figure 12 miles today. My toes are all in good condition, and the ankle is tolerable.

Back at our B&B, we flake out with hot tea and biscuits (cookies to them as knows) and our books. After a bit of rest and a restorative hot shower, we head down the hill once more, this time to the launderette. B goes ahead with the wash and I stop to look at shoes. I buy two pair -- a pair of black flats and a pair of black crocs that look just like flats. Couldn't resist. There's a place in town to 'recycle' shoes, so I'm going to drop off my black Merrill sandals there.

As I write this, I'm watching our laundry go round and round in the dryer. No inexpensive fluff and fold places in the UK so far. I'm hoping there will be in South Africa!

Last night we had dinner at an Italian restaurant, recommended by our hostess when I asked for salad. We did indeed have both a green salad and a tomato and red onion salad, and then a pizza rustica with very thin crust. Tonight, I have more of an appetite, so it may be back to fish and chips for me!

Today's pictures start here.

Edinburgh, Scotland, to Keswick, England

Wednesday, May 26

Today is the rainiest day we've seen in our time here; a good day for travel. T & D left at the crack of dawn (literally) to take a train and then a bus to the airport for their mid-morning flight. Our schedule is a bit more leisurely. We trapise downstairs at 7:30, thinking to sit in the lounge and use the internet. But wait ... one of the ladies is dusting, the furniture has been moved, and there are coffee cups and saucers  stacked on the side table.

It appears that, today, there is a small conference taking place at the Inchview Hotel. Breakfast will be in the bar, rather than the usual breakfast room. We get caught up in the atmosphere, and hurry through breakfast and leave-taking. As a result, we arrive at the Burntisland railway station early, much too early. Oh, well, at least we're assured of getting to Haymarket to make our next connection.

And we do make the connection, after a cold hour on the Haymarket platform. The heat I generated lugging my bag up two flights of stairs and then down again to change platforms dissipates, and a cup of hot tea is called for as a hand warmer. This second train ride, to Carlisle on a Virgin train, is a little more than an hour. We have reserved seats, and the train is comfortable. There's not much room for luggage, however. A very kind gent helps us stow a bag in the seat next to him, and another on top of a stack of bags at the back of the car.

When we're ready to alight at Carlisle, he helps us once again. He's from the Orkneys, down to visit family. He's former special forces, and has been around the world several times. But he's never been to California. So many places, he says.

The third train is a short hop from Carlisle to Penrith. Here we meet another gent, this time a local from this part of the Lake District. He tells us which pubs in Keswick (prounounced KEH-zik), our eventual destination, have good pub food and good beer. He also escorts us to the bus stop when we exit the railway station. He's happy that we're going to enjoy something of his part of the world.

The bus stop is in the station car park, and right across the street is ... yet another ruin of yet another castle. I doubt we'll have enough time in Penrith to find out much about it. We'll have to look it up on the internet instead.

The ride to Keswick is about 40 minutes long. We stow our bags under the bus and climb aboard. The countryside here is full of stone fences, pastures and sheep. I would believe myself to be in Scotland still, did I not know better. Eventually the bus winds down through the town, making several stops, and ends up at the bottom of the hill in front of a large grocery store, Booths.

We get our bags and trundle to the i-site, taking the long way around, as we later discover. It's in the middle of the pedestrian street that the town has closed to vehicle traffic to accommodate tourists. There's a nice display of hikes around the area. And our B&B is just up the street. We flip up our rain jacket hoods and head up the hill, accompanied by a thunder cell. We don't see the lightning, but the thunder cracks sharply above.

We're welcomed at Acorn House by our host, with a 2-year-old son on his shoulder. Cute kid. We're in a very nice room on the 1st floor, with en-suite bath, a brass 4-poster bed, a huge armoire, a dresser, 2 bedside tables, 2 slipper chairs, and a small table with tea things. We've had smaller rooms (albeit with less furniture) so we're adept at figuring out where to stow our bags -- one in the armoire and the other on a bag stand next to the tea table (after we rearrange a bit of furniture).

Then we set off to explore the town. We wander to the bottom of the street and check the bus schedule. Then we check out Booths. Why can't our grocery stores in the US have good artisan breads and a lovely salad bar like this one? Then up the street again, stopping this time at a hotel that advertises "Real Ales". They have 3 cask ales, two of them local, and we try a couple. Pretty good.

Then it's back to Acorn House to sort laundry and get settled. Tomorrow we'll hike as the weather permits, and fit in a visit to the laundromat sometime.

Edinburgh and Beyond

Tuesday, May 25

Today we finally had to decide what we'll do when we leave Edinburgh. T & D fly out of Edinburgh tomorrow, headed for home. We're in the UK until we fly out for South Africa on the 2nd of June. After breakfast, T & D depart for town, and we hunker down in the lounge to figure out what to do. After much cogitation, we decide on a few days in the Lakes District and then on to Bath. B reads the guidebook furiously, and spends a bit of time on the internet, without much success.

At length we decide to do the expedient thing -- head for the booking office in Edinburgh. There, in short order, we spend a whole lot of money for 3 nights in Keswick, 4 nights in Bath, and trains to get there. But, it's only money, hey? The booking agent asks if all is OK. We're so quiet, she says.  Spending lots of money can be hard on the psyche.

That out of the way, we grab a panini and a hot drink at the station, visit the loo (30p each to go through the turnstile, please), and head for the National Writer's Museum, just off the Royal Mile in Lady Stair's Close. This house, a restoration of Lady Stair's house on a close, a square set back from the street with a door or gate that was closed each night, is a tribute to three of Scotland's greatest: Robert Louis Stevenson, Walter Scott, and Robert Burns. The exhibits are interesting, with artifacts from each man's life, and, thanks to the period, quite a few photographs. We enjoy wandering the four floors of exhibits, including a printing press on the top floor.


While we are at the Writer's Museum, T calls. It is midafternoon. He and D are at the National Museum of Scotland, where we are headed next. We meet up on the High Street, and agree that we will call when we're ready to find a brew or a wee dram.

We head down the High to George V Bridge, and south to the modern museum building. The layout of the building is a mystery. There are 7 levels, but not really 7 floors. We agree to start at level 7, the roof garden. The views from here are wonderful, especially given the interesting skies and the sunshine. We linger here for quite a while, enjoying the atmosphere.

We descend into the lower levels, in search of a special chess exhibit. In one gallery we encounter a couple of wager cups. These are a cone-shaped cup, and suspended below, a shallow circular cup on gimbals. Both cups are filled, and the challenge is to drain the cone-shaped cup without spilling anything from the circular cup. (We actually inquire at the museum shop, hoping they will have a replica. No dice.)

As we browse, we are distracted by the sound and the sight, over a balcony railing, of a pumping engine at work. This is a huge contraption, with a great long beam. We hurry down this stair and that, but are unable to find the hall that houses the engine. Drat! So we go looking for the special exhibit on chess.

Giving up on the map, we ask a museum guard. He leads us this way and that, and finally points us down a staircase with directions to turn right at the bottom. Voila! The exhibit is intriguing. In 1831, on the Isle of Lewis, a gent out with his rod to do some fishing discovered a caved-in structure, and in it were a whole creel full of carved chess pieces.

The pieces are carved from walrus tusks (and something else, but the walrus part I remember). They are larger than chess pieces we are used to seeing, and are very detailed. Each piece's face, hair, eyes, costume are carved in intricate detail. Scholars think that these are very old, but no one knows the origin, or how they came to be buried on Lewis. A mystery!

By now, given our wanderings, it is after 4. We call T & D, to find they are at the Mitre, just down the Mile across from the Radissson. We join them there, and taste a fine ale. Then it's off to the whiskey shop, Cadenhead's, that Rick Steves likes, further down the mile. You can get a whiskey tasting there, he says, and the brothers that run the shop like to talk about whiskey.

Well, it's partly true. They run tastings at the pub across the way on some days. The next would be on Thursday. But the talking part is true. After talking about what the shop does (in addition to selling brand whiskeys, they buy casks from distilleries and bottle their own), our guys express interest in some of the shop whiskey. They're offered a wee taste, first straight, then cut with water. So there is a whiskey tasting after all. After tasting, they buy a bottle each of lowland malt, bottled by Cadenheads. The bottles are filled from the cask, corked, sealed, and labeled as we watch.

Now it's time to head to Edinburgh Waverly once again, to Track 18, where we take the 1806. It leaves on time, only to develop brake problems at the very first stop, Haymarket. The brakes can't be fixed (they won't release) so we exit the train  and wait nearly an hour for the next. Burntisland is on a local line; next time we'll be sure to stay in Inverkeithing or Kirkcaldy, stops on the express line!

We buy a cup of coffee (tea in my case) to pass the time and keep warm. The 1712 from Haymarket arrives and we journey to Burntisland without further incident. We do figure that out of 9 train rides, 2 trains have been cancelled. Not a good percentage.

We enjoy dinner at the hotel (3 grilled haddocks, one salmon), and retire early to pack. T & D have an 8:55 flight, so they will be leaving early in the morning (train to Inverkeithing, bus to airport). We have a more leisurely schedule; we're to catch the 9:39 from the railway station. T & D come by the room to say goodbye. It has been a good trip.

Tomorrow is a travel day, and Keswick is a rather small place, although we're told it's upscale. Don't know whether we'll have internet service or not. Maybe yes, since it's upscale. We're looking forward to some walking in the Lakes District, Wordsworth Country, although it will be rather strange to be no longer in Scotland.

Today's pictures, few that they are, start here.

Edinburgh - Britannia, then the Castle

Monday, May 24

Today dawns bright and sunny in Burntisland. Without consultation, we all hope for the best, and arrive at breakfast dressed for a sunny day (shorts and cropped pants). Today I order the porridge with bananas, and with a bit of brown sugar on top, it is delicious. I finish breakfast with a poached egg on brown toast.

We leave at 9 for the railway station, and buy tickets, intending to take the 9:23 to the city. Fate intervenes (are you sending a theme here?) The 9:23 is cancelled, so we pick up the 9:39 instead. The journey into town is straightforward -- no buses, thank you.

We elect to head for the royal yacht, Britannia, first.  Exiting Edinburgh Berkeley station, we spot the first Majestic Tours bus (it's the only one of the four companies that goes to the royal yacht) and clamber aboard and up to the top deck. Hmmmm. It's cloudy. This may be a cold ride. Fortunately, I have a windbreaker/rain jacket, so I will fare well. We retrace the route through the New City, and on to the Port of Leith and the Ocean Terminal, where we are let off.

This time, we know the way to Britannia, although there are at one point some conflicting opinions as to which end of this three-story indoor mall will give us access. We arrive at the gate, collect the free audio guide, and set out. Some of us have been skeptical about this tour; will we find anything of interest?

It must be good to be queen. Your own 400 ft. yacht, a crew of some 220 to wait on you and your guests occupying the 16 staterooms; a lovely sun room. Even the crew seems to be well provided for -- separate bars and mess areas for the officers, the Marines, and the Warrant and Petty Officers.

A state dining room; the anteroom; the sitting room: these are quite large rooms, and lavishly appointed. The point is made, however, that much of what is here came from the previous royal yacht, and most has been preserved and cared for over the 50-year life of this yacht.

One other mark of conservation: the officers mess napkin storage. Each officer had a slot for his napkin. Early reuse, echoed in our own home. Ha!

Once done with the furnishings, we parade past the royal barge (not really a barge, just a boat) and the engine room. Much to our surprise, we have all enjoyed the tour. Each one of us would like to be in that 0.1% (or maybe it's smaller) that can afford such luxury. Still dreaming of luxury, we find a coffee shop in the mall, and lunch on coffee, soup, and grilled (superfluous, I know) panini.

Then it's outside into the cold and wind to wait for the next Majestic tour bus. Have I mentioned that public transportation (even tour buses) requires a tolerance for waiting? We get on the bus, and ride some half way up the Royal Mile. Debarking, we head up the High Street to Edinburgh Castle.

We have missed the firing of the One O'Clock Gun , fired precisely on the hour to allow ships in the Leith to set their chronometers. But  we are in time for a free 30-minute tour, and our guide, Graeme, gives us a short history and points out things to see. We finish the tour at the top of the castle, in the square. So we see the Great Hall and the War Memorial before starting down into the Vaults, where prisoners of war, largely those captured at sea, were held.

Then it's back up to St. Margaret's Chapel, where we attempt to capture the "best" views of Edinburgh and the charm of the 11th century chapel. By now it is growing cold, the sky is dark gray, and there is a cold, thin wind. We duck into a gift shop to warm up before heading down the castle road (it replaced steps when the task of hauling guns up to defend the castle became a necessity).

A bit further down, we tour the Scots Dragoons museum. The dragoons have a long and distinguished history, although I can't help thinking that, from the Highlands perspective, it might sound a bit different. After all, the Black Watch were the English presence in the Highlands.

 Even further down the hill, we tour the Scottish War Museum. This  museum has a lot of 20th century exhibits, although the waning years of the empire and service in such places as India are not neglected. As we exit the displays, T remarks that the Scots are a very warlike people. So it seems, from their history.

It is raining just a bit as we head down the hill. We forgo finding a pub, and find our way to the station. Just as well we nixed the pub -- we catch the 6:08, and the next train would leave an hour later. And at Burntisland, as we learned yesterday, everything closes at 8:30.

The train is on time (hurrah!) and we debark once again into Scots mist and thin wiind. We check out another pub on our way to the hotel, but agree it is too noisy. So it's to the Inchview Hotel, a brew in the bar, and dinner. Mussels for the gents, salmon for D, and I try a burger.

Tomorrow is unformed, as yet. B and I have some trip planning to do, and T & D are contemplating visiting their son's inlaws near Edinburgh. We will meet at 8 for breakfast and set the plan.

Today's pictures start here.

A Bus Tour of Edinburgh

Sunday, May 23

The day looked a bit gray when we gathered in the breakfast room, but it turned out, after all, to be sunny and even hot. Breakfast was another experience; a menu on the table, two small pages, left and right. B asked for grapefruit sections and muesli. Our waitress asked, in a disapproving tone, "Then you want to order two from the left-hand side?"

"Well," we replied, "perhaps you'd better tell us how this works."  Our instructions, then, were to choose one from the left and one from the right. Once we understood the protocol, ordering breakfast was easy. This hotel has done a lot of remodeling in the last few years, and admittedly the rooms are lovely. And they're apparently adding a seafood restaurant, in addition to the bar/bistro. But the food has proved mediocre.Too bad.

We left the hotel before 10, headed for the train station. Sunday schedules are different, and indeed the railway is working on the Kircaldy line. We will ride the train for two stops, alight (as they say here) and take a bus to Haymarket, and then ride the train from Haymarket to Edinburgh, one stop. As you might expect, this takes a while, as the bus calls at all the intermediate stops that the train would have made.

So we arrive in Edinburgh without a plan for the day. After some discussion, we decide which exit from the station we should take. At the exit, we then decide that perhaps we'll take a bus tour as was recommended. So we descend again into Edinburgh Waverly station in search of a bus ticket. After a couple of false starts, we locate the i-site and buy two-day tickets that include admission to the Castle, Holyrood Palace, and the Britannia.

Outside once again, we exchange our voucher for tickets, and climb up onto the open-top bus. We've picked the Macs tour, and the narrator is very good. We ride through the New Town, a Georgian period planned development, and learn about all the famous authors who worked and lived in Edinburgh. (Note to visit the Writer's Museum, a 1622 house, before we leave Edinburgh.) As we approach the Old Town, we hop off at Grassmarket, to have lunch at the oldest pub in Edinburgh. Lunch is unmemorable, but the pint went down well.

From here, we decide to set off on foot, as we are nearly at the top of the Royal Mile. We're saving the Castle for Monday, when perhaps it will not be so crowded. We hike up to the top of the High Street, spend a few minutes in a woolens store, and then start downhill. This is tourist territory -- souvenir and woolens everywhere, get your kilt here. The buildings are old and sometimes beautiful, and a jarring contrast to the shops and signs.

We stop for a time at St. Giles cathedral, where we admire the pipe organ (it's quite new) and the intricate stained-glass windows (not new at all). We pass the statue of Adam Smith, with a traffic cone on his head. Evidently the University students keep him in extraordinary headgear most of the year. We wander into the Scottish heritage shop to admire all the Scotch whiskeys. We stop at a fudge store and buy a piece of fudge. We locate the whiskey shop that Rick Steves recommends in his travel guide, alas, closed today.

At the bottom of the hill is Holyrood Palace, the Queen's residence in Edinburgh. It's not open today; some representative of Her Majesty is in residence. To signal that fact, the fountain is flowing. We get a picture or two through the  gates. Then we find our next bus stop, this time to take a Majestic Tours bus out to the Britannia, once the Queen's yacht.

The bus drops us off at the harbor, in front of an enormous shopping center. Britannia, second floor, read the signs. We climb the stairs to the first floor, and are seized by a fit of indecision -- surely one doesn't get to the yacht from a shopping center! So down the stairs we go and back outside, looking for an alternate route. There is nothing. So back inside, up the stairs, traipse down the 1st floor hallway looking for a way to the 2nd floor. There -- an escalator!  And on the second floor, yet another march to the end of the hallway where the sign reads "BRITANNIA". Alas, we are too late. The last admission to tour the yacht was at 4 p.m., and it is now 4:15.

So we wander outside and around the shopping center, looking for a view at least. We see the yacht, but the view is obstructed by fences. We do enjoy looking at some of the other ships, one in particular which is a well servicer, a huge things with all sorts of tanks and derricks.

We board the bus once more, and return to the Old City. Here the other three decide to climb to the top of the Walter Scott monument. I decide just to take a walk and try to get a picture of the monument from a decent angle. 287 steps to the top, on a winding stair. It gets very narrow at the top, they tell me.

From here we head back to the station for the train-bus-train experience once more. Of course there's no listed itinerary that includes Burntisland, so we inquire -- any Glasgow-bound train that stops at Haymarket. This time there are longer waits between bus and train. We sit on the platform at Dalgety Bay for 40 minutes, commiserating with several folk who ran in the Edinburgh Marathon this morning. Some of them look to be in considerable pain.

In search of dinner, we take a look at the corner pub on our way to the hotel. Loud music, no food. On to the hotel. Oh, sorry, no food and the bar is closing now. You might try the Sands down the street; they stop serving at 8:30 (it is now 8:25). So we race down the road, where the Sands agrees to accomodate us. Beer, dinner, and then we're invited to participate in the bar quiz, just for fun. We stay through the first ten questions, then head for home.

Tomorrow we will take in the Castle and the Britannia, while our bus tickets are still good to get us to these locations (they're two-day tickets). There are various sights along way that we can get to on foot on Tuesday if we wish. Perhaps we'll try to fit in the Botanical Gardens as well.

Today's pictures start here.

Fort William to Edinburgh

Saturday, May 22

Today is a travel day. We arise, breakfast, and journey into Fort William town centre to kill an hour or so and score some lunch to eat on the train. We cross the "square" (it's triangular) and walk up the stone-paved pedestrian mall. Eventually we go to the same bakery we visited before, although this time we buy only a sandwich, in keeping with our reduced calorie consumption.

We catch our train to Glasgow at 11:40, and arrive just a bit late at 3:30 p.m. So we miss the first connection to Edinburgh, but make the second. This is a short trip, just over an hour. And now, we have to catch a third train.

We are staying at the Inchview Hotel in Burntisland (burnt-island, it's said, not burntis-land, as we first thought), across the firth from Edinburgh, a 50-minute train ride. This third train is late, quite late. So it is nearly 7 p.m. when we arrive in Burntisland, the last stop but two on the line to Kircaldy, and then we trundle our bags some half mile to the hotel. I have packed shoes in my backpack, along with laundry soap and  book or two. It's incredibly heavy. I'm glad to put the pack down.

We drop the bags in our rooms and gather in the bar. There we have a brew while waiting for a dinner table. Dinner and two bottles of indifferent wine later, we are tucked in for the night.

Tomorrow, Edinburgh!