Scotland
10 05 11 03:49
It’s noon on Tuesday, and we are on a train that left Glasgow 20 minutes ago heading for London and the last leg of our journey. The last three days are difficult for me to summarize. Perhaps it is the time spent with Scottish cousins; perhaps it is bidding Jon and Nancy farewell (their journey ends a week before ours); perhaps it is visiting places that were shared with Joan. Or perhaps it is simply that Celtic blood flows through my veins. The simple truth is that Scotland feels like home.
Our Glasgow apartment served us well in spite of being a bedroom and a bed shy of what we would really have liked. Saturday was an Edinburgh day for Suzanne and me. We walked the mile and a half to Glasgow’s Queen Street station soaking up some of the atmosphere of Glasgow on the way. The 50 minute train ride brought us into the center of Edinburgh a short distance from Edinburgh Castle, which was our first stop. Since this impressive castle overlooking the city was once occupied by King Malcolm, I made myself at home. From the castle we walked down the Royal Mile, which is really a mile of Edinburgh’s history, checking out churches, John Knox’s house, shops, and hidden gardens along the way. We stopped for a bite of lunch, and Suzanne had her first taste of haggis. At the bottom of the Royal Mile is the Palace of Holyrood House, which is the queen’s residence when she is in Edinburgh, and the Scottish Parliament.
Sunday was mostly devoted to a family get-together in Linlithgow preceded by a stop in Duntocher to see the house where my mother was born and raised. The ground level businesses have changed (no more butcher shop or post office there), but the upstairs living areas are still in use, and we wondered how Mom’s large family fit into such quarters. (No more complaining about our Glasgow flat!) The family get-together was a delight, capped by some Scottish singing and my brother wearing a kilt. (It was not a pretty sight; picture to follow....) Whoever is meeting him in Los Angeles needs to be warned!
Monday morning we returned to Clydebank Crematorium where I had officiated at my father’s funeral service 23 years ago. This stop was the primary reason for our trip as we had brought Mom’s ashes back to the place of her birth to scatter where Dad’s were scattered 23 years ago. If you are wondering why Scotland, and why now, five years after Mom’s passing, I’ll post a fuller explanation on the Malcolm’s blog page. It was a poignant time there in the Garden of Remembrance, a beautiful spot just a mile from where Mom was born. After the scattering, we stopped by the hall of remembrance to see Dad’s entry in the Books of Remembrance on display there.
Suzanne and I spent the rest of the day with cousin Ted and his wife Betty (Ted is Christine’s brother) who took us to Loch Lomond and to the delightful village of Luss by Loch Lomond. Jon and Nancy left us at lunch to return to the apartment, pack, and start their trek south. Though there was rain off and on through the afternoon, it was almost always off when we were outside. The scenery was beautiful and Ted and Betty’s company and conversation was a delight as well.
Our Glasgow apartment served us well in spite of being a bedroom and a bed shy of what we would really have liked. Saturday was an Edinburgh day for Suzanne and me. We walked the mile and a half to Glasgow’s Queen Street station soaking up some of the atmosphere of Glasgow on the way. The 50 minute train ride brought us into the center of Edinburgh a short distance from Edinburgh Castle, which was our first stop. Since this impressive castle overlooking the city was once occupied by King Malcolm, I made myself at home. From the castle we walked down the Royal Mile, which is really a mile of Edinburgh’s history, checking out churches, John Knox’s house, shops, and hidden gardens along the way. We stopped for a bite of lunch, and Suzanne had her first taste of haggis. At the bottom of the Royal Mile is the Palace of Holyrood House, which is the queen’s residence when she is in Edinburgh, and the Scottish Parliament.
Sunday was mostly devoted to a family get-together in Linlithgow preceded by a stop in Duntocher to see the house where my mother was born and raised. The ground level businesses have changed (no more butcher shop or post office there), but the upstairs living areas are still in use, and we wondered how Mom’s large family fit into such quarters. (No more complaining about our Glasgow flat!) The family get-together was a delight, capped by some Scottish singing and my brother wearing a kilt. (It was not a pretty sight; picture to follow....) Whoever is meeting him in Los Angeles needs to be warned!
Monday morning we returned to Clydebank Crematorium where I had officiated at my father’s funeral service 23 years ago. This stop was the primary reason for our trip as we had brought Mom’s ashes back to the place of her birth to scatter where Dad’s were scattered 23 years ago. If you are wondering why Scotland, and why now, five years after Mom’s passing, I’ll post a fuller explanation on the Malcolm’s blog page. It was a poignant time there in the Garden of Remembrance, a beautiful spot just a mile from where Mom was born. After the scattering, we stopped by the hall of remembrance to see Dad’s entry in the Books of Remembrance on display there.
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