Thank you very much for your comments, after reading what we got, we are now asking that we resume our previous relationship whereas we send our journals out into the unresponsive internet universe. :)
We have made it to Donegal! There have certainly been some adventures and though I'm sure someone else has said it before, we have discovered why so many great writers come from Ireland. It rains, it pours rain, it is 40 degrees on the warmest day of the year. It rains. The sheep hide. It rains. Everyone retreats into their homes to warm themselves next to peat fires with hot coffee and write about deep existential issues. There are no alternatives.
We've got to go back out into the rain now. Much love and many interesting literary anecdotes to follow. We promise.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Northern Ireland-July 18-"Shouldn't we have seen a sign by now, I am just saying" Clara
Hello, is anyone out there? Anthony is getting terribly distraught because no one is commenting on our posts. Make him feel better please. It will make the next 1000 foot mountain with 35 mph wind gusts much easier.
So yes, we made it to Northern Ireland from Ayr. We were sad to leave Tiger Woods behind in Scotland but we thought it was time to go. Sad to leave Scotland but we have high hopes for Ireland too. We took a ferry from Ayr to Larne and stayed at the most hospitable B&B we could have asked for. Bob and Liz loaded us up with fruit and water and we took off on the coastal road north. Did we mention that fresh fruits and veggies are not abundantly found or apparently desired in the UK. Our bodies craved non-fish and chip nourishment.
We enjoyed following the coastal road until it became a 7-mile up a mountain, into the wind road. It took us hours. We were starving and freezing so we found an EXPENSIVE place to put our tents and made supper from the grocery store. Carrots sticks! The irish could really learn something about affordable tent placing places and what's at the base of a food pyramid.
Today we started off and climbed a rope bridge at carric-a-rede, saw the Giants of Causeway and made our last stop at Bushmills. Just got done eating a Phat meal with the locals, including a mother in law that had to be escorted out so she wouldn't swear and yell at her Daughter-in-law. Quote from the bartender...."Don't worry that's what all mother in laws are like!"
Tomorrow we continue along the coast, visiting castle ruins and quite possibly jumping into the North Sea with a surf board. I am going to break my neck, Clara
So yes, we made it to Northern Ireland from Ayr. We were sad to leave Tiger Woods behind in Scotland but we thought it was time to go. Sad to leave Scotland but we have high hopes for Ireland too. We took a ferry from Ayr to Larne and stayed at the most hospitable B&B we could have asked for. Bob and Liz loaded us up with fruit and water and we took off on the coastal road north. Did we mention that fresh fruits and veggies are not abundantly found or apparently desired in the UK. Our bodies craved non-fish and chip nourishment.
We enjoyed following the coastal road until it became a 7-mile up a mountain, into the wind road. It took us hours. We were starving and freezing so we found an EXPENSIVE place to put our tents and made supper from the grocery store. Carrots sticks! The irish could really learn something about affordable tent placing places and what's at the base of a food pyramid.
Today we started off and climbed a rope bridge at carric-a-rede, saw the Giants of Causeway and made our last stop at Bushmills. Just got done eating a Phat meal with the locals, including a mother in law that had to be escorted out so she wouldn't swear and yell at her Daughter-in-law. Quote from the bartender...."Don't worry that's what all mother in laws are like!"
Tomorrow we continue along the coast, visiting castle ruins and quite possibly jumping into the North Sea with a surf board. I am going to break my neck, Clara
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
July 14th Leaving Edinburgh on Bastille Day
Our last blog entry was delayed because it had been typed up and then when we went to post it disappeared into the wifi ethos. This caused much gnashing of teeth.
We've been in Edinburgh two days. We've followed the literary trail of Sir Walter Scott, Robert Burns and Robert Louis Stevenson. Now we're heading west towards Ayr and then onwards to Northern Ireland (where there seemed to be some marching riots yesterday).
From Grantown on Spey we biked north to Inverness. We spent a day biking around Loch Ness and jumping in the strikingly cold water (all of the lakes in England and Scotland would not fill Loch Ness). We saw no monsters, but enjoyed a rare blue sky on the rocky beach... After a nice dinner and saying goodbye to our B&B hosts were took the train to Edinburgh. Yes, we took the train and cheated a bit.
Anthony once again found us a Holiday Inn Express, except this time it was right downtown and actually cheaper than a 12 bed hostel so we weren't mad at him. We went on a free 3-hour walking tour of the city and found out about some interesting people and stories of Edinburgh. Maggie Dickson was a woman that was hanged for concealing a pregnancy (not the adultery or baby's death). When they were taking her body to the graveyard she woke up and could not be re-hung for her crime. She also got out of her former marriage because she had been pronounced dead at the scene. She then opened a bar in the hanging square and everytime someone was being hanged she would yell out, "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I've been there." This was Clara's favorite story.
Other interesting facts:
You can bring whatever you want to a chippy (fish and chips restuarant) and they will deep fry it for you. One of the most popular fried treats are cadbury eggs. This explains the high incidence of heart disease in Scotland.
On a literary note, we found the inspiration for Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Look up Deacon Brodie.
Visited writer's museum and found out more about Sir Walter Scott, Robert Burns and Robert Louis Stevenson.
After visiting the Edinburgh castle we jumped on our bikes and headed to our friend David's family's place in Penicuik, Scotland. Upon our arrival, David's Mom and Sister had hot tea, coffee and THREE desserts. We ate our weight in sugar and butter. Thanks Smiths! So good to visit with them, wish it could have been longer.
Then we made our way to Biggar where Anthony almost puked in the back of some nice man's van who was chauffeuring us a little distance. We found a public park and Anthony walked off the nausea while we had a nice picnic prepared by David's Mom and set up camp for the night.
Some of our favorite road signs we've crossed are:
4.Hidden Dips!
3. !Red Squirrels
2. Caution Weak bridge Ahead.
1. Danger Troops crossing
After Biggar we rode 60 miles to Dunfoot which is near the birthplace of Robert Burns. While biking we noticed a long line of cars not moving on the road. Anthony commented that maybe it was the US open, because we had seen so many signs that just said Open with an arrow. We pulled over and Anthony asked a friendly policeman if the long line of cars was due to road construction,. The policeman poked him in the chest and started laughing and said it was the British Open and unless you have thousands of pounds you will not find a place to stay for the week. He said we had come at the busiest time in the last 15 years. He stopped laughing when we said we had camping gear and told us to sleep in someone's yard or the beach. We chose to sleep on the beach guarded by a ruined castle. All in all it worked out pleasantly including a ride to the beach with a Scottish road racing cycle team. Everyone helps here and we need a lot of it. Quoted by the policeman while pointing at Anthony, "I hope you don't have this one leading you around Scotland!"
After waking up and visiting Robert Burn's cottage and meeting a professional curler who had spent some time in St. Paul, Grand Forks and the Iron Range, we decided our clothes needed a cleaning and since the British open had turned this quiet area into madness that we would take the ferry tonight to Northern Ireland. A much needed shower awaits us on the other side. It's been three days since any of us has been clean.
GOODBYE Scotland:( Hello Ireland:) (Debbie Downer, JIM Oliver, says Hopefully)
PS
Some of you may notice a certain Clara bent to this journal, there are a few details that will have to come out later.
We've been in Edinburgh two days. We've followed the literary trail of Sir Walter Scott, Robert Burns and Robert Louis Stevenson. Now we're heading west towards Ayr and then onwards to Northern Ireland (where there seemed to be some marching riots yesterday).
From Grantown on Spey we biked north to Inverness. We spent a day biking around Loch Ness and jumping in the strikingly cold water (all of the lakes in England and Scotland would not fill Loch Ness). We saw no monsters, but enjoyed a rare blue sky on the rocky beach... After a nice dinner and saying goodbye to our B&B hosts were took the train to Edinburgh. Yes, we took the train and cheated a bit.
Anthony once again found us a Holiday Inn Express, except this time it was right downtown and actually cheaper than a 12 bed hostel so we weren't mad at him. We went on a free 3-hour walking tour of the city and found out about some interesting people and stories of Edinburgh. Maggie Dickson was a woman that was hanged for concealing a pregnancy (not the adultery or baby's death). When they were taking her body to the graveyard she woke up and could not be re-hung for her crime. She also got out of her former marriage because she had been pronounced dead at the scene. She then opened a bar in the hanging square and everytime someone was being hanged she would yell out, "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I've been there." This was Clara's favorite story.
Other interesting facts:
You can bring whatever you want to a chippy (fish and chips restuarant) and they will deep fry it for you. One of the most popular fried treats are cadbury eggs. This explains the high incidence of heart disease in Scotland.
On a literary note, we found the inspiration for Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Look up Deacon Brodie.
Visited writer's museum and found out more about Sir Walter Scott, Robert Burns and Robert Louis Stevenson.
After visiting the Edinburgh castle we jumped on our bikes and headed to our friend David's family's place in Penicuik, Scotland. Upon our arrival, David's Mom and Sister had hot tea, coffee and THREE desserts. We ate our weight in sugar and butter. Thanks Smiths! So good to visit with them, wish it could have been longer.
Then we made our way to Biggar where Anthony almost puked in the back of some nice man's van who was chauffeuring us a little distance. We found a public park and Anthony walked off the nausea while we had a nice picnic prepared by David's Mom and set up camp for the night.
Some of our favorite road signs we've crossed are:
4.Hidden Dips!
3. !Red Squirrels
2. Caution Weak bridge Ahead.
1. Danger Troops crossing
After Biggar we rode 60 miles to Dunfoot which is near the birthplace of Robert Burns. While biking we noticed a long line of cars not moving on the road. Anthony commented that maybe it was the US open, because we had seen so many signs that just said Open with an arrow. We pulled over and Anthony asked a friendly policeman if the long line of cars was due to road construction,. The policeman poked him in the chest and started laughing and said it was the British Open and unless you have thousands of pounds you will not find a place to stay for the week. He said we had come at the busiest time in the last 15 years. He stopped laughing when we said we had camping gear and told us to sleep in someone's yard or the beach. We chose to sleep on the beach guarded by a ruined castle. All in all it worked out pleasantly including a ride to the beach with a Scottish road racing cycle team. Everyone helps here and we need a lot of it. Quoted by the policeman while pointing at Anthony, "I hope you don't have this one leading you around Scotland!"
After waking up and visiting Robert Burn's cottage and meeting a professional curler who had spent some time in St. Paul, Grand Forks and the Iron Range, we decided our clothes needed a cleaning and since the British open had turned this quiet area into madness that we would take the ferry tonight to Northern Ireland. A much needed shower awaits us on the other side. It's been three days since any of us has been clean.
GOODBYE Scotland:( Hello Ireland:) (Debbie Downer, JIM Oliver, says Hopefully)
PS
Some of you may notice a certain Clara bent to this journal, there are a few details that will have to come out later.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Leaving the North Country, finding family roots and heading to Inverness
July 12th blog
We sit on a rainy Sunday in a coffee shop that reminds us of an Applebee's. It's the only place in Inverness with WiFi on a Sunday. But it's raining outside with an impending storm sweeping across Scotland so we're taking a train to Edinburgh and will travel southeast. The North has been beautiful and treated us well but we must say goodbye.
We have posted some photos to Facebook--search ScotlandIreland HutchJacobs to friend us if you have not already.
The last time we wrote we were in a pretty little village called Dufftown. We biked by about 10 distillery's and only checked out two of them. JIM was in heaven. The Glenfiddich distillery is definitely worth checking out if you're ever in Scotland's whisky territory. We then biked on a muddy trail for twenty miles and when the rain became too much we pulled over and camped by the river with a Scottish family that was was walking the trail. Scottish Mom and Dad had had enough of traveling with three kids, two of which were 12 and 14 year old girls. I think they were happy to have us as a distraction for a night. We woke up to some rain in our tent, waited for a window of sunshine to take down camp and biked up to Anthony's ancestral past and now I will let him tell you all about his day of Violet's house, burned down churches, graveyards and the birth place of his great grandfather.
Thank you for the setting the stage Clara. We are in Inverness sitting out the storm that caused the lobstermen to haul in 600 lobster pots from the North Sea. A word of warning, for those of you unrelated to me (or even some that are) you may not find the following exceptionally intriguing, but it was a day of returning to a place my great-grandfather Alexander Gilbert left 121 years ago.
The first thing I learned is that no one in Scotland knew where the village was. From our arrival in Aberdeen I asked most Scots people I saw where the village of Knockando was and everyone told me they did not think such a place existed. I was disheartened. Someone finally told me that I was most likelu pronoucing it wrong. After spelling it to them I was told, "Ahh, yes, Knockando". So after years of pronouncing it 'Knock-and-dew', I discovered that it was actually pronounced as, 'No-condo', as in, "Did you buy a house? No, Condo." With the correct pronounciation we followed a bike path on the river Spey from Dufftown through Aberlour towards Knockando. The people I had talked to on the way told me there was nothing there. A shop? No. Pub? No. Bakery? No. Nothing. So we bought groceries and arrived along the river south of the town late at night in the rain.
In the morning we had breakfast and biked in a light rain up long curving green hills covered in sheep that someone had spray painted with green dots. The town of Knockando is 15 houses on a small narrow road. The mobile library van sat idling on the side of the road. There was no one there. It was empty, quiet. We biked past the houses towards the church on a hill above the village. We kept biking 1/2 mile past the village having found no road to get up to the church. We approached a house where a young woman was outside directing a car as it attempted to back out of her driveway. I stopped and said, "Hello, my great-grandfather was born in Knockando." She said, "Wow, come in I'll take you over to my neighbor Violet who is 77 years old and has lived here her whole life." So we all got off our bikes. We look a rough group anyway, but having camped and biked in rain we weren't the type of people an eldery woman welcomes into her home, but there we were and she was offering us tea and as I started pulling out family trees she started thinking of neighbors and people that might be related or might know more.
When I had spoken to a few older Scots in a pub the day before and told them I had come from the Gilberts and the Davidsons, they all reacted as if I were related to some dog-kicking fugitive, supposedly the only Davidson they knew was some local neer do well that owed them all money, but Violet did know some Gilberts and she showed signs of distress when directing me towards them. I kept quiet about the Davidsons.
She told me I needed to bike three miles west to the Archiestown Post Office and speak to the postmaster Doreen Alridch who knows everyone in the area. With that we set out towards Archiestown. Clara and Jim set out for a distillery tour and EMily and I promised to come back and meet them after our visit to Doreen.
The 3 mile bike to Archiestown was filled with green dark treeless hills (munros in Gaelic) and sheep. When we first arrived in Scotland we had seen all these newspaper headlines that said in big bold print "Biker killed by sheep" and "Another biker victim to more sheep". This caused us to envision packs of killer sheep silently stalking bikers, waiting for the right moment to spring out and suffocate their two-wheeled prey with wads of wool and what not and then slowly chew them to death. We biked nervously those first few days, cautiously eyeing the mild seeming sheep behind short easily hopped stone walls, their slow chewing stares seemed omnious, their soft baa's and white fur thinly masking deep muderous impulses towards American educators (and their significant others). No one wanted to bike in the last position until we found out that Biker in English-ese is a motorcycist not a bicyclist and that the motorcyclists had died after striking stray sheep on mountain roads. This idiomatic lesson greatly relieved our sheep anxiety (a difficult condition in Scotland).
When we got to Archiestown we found a small village of about a thousand people. Doreen not only ran the post office as the sole employee but ran the only store in town. All this out of her 8 foot by 8 foot back porch. While I told her the history of my family she waited on customers buying steak pies, stamps and cigarettes. Violet had called ahead so Doreen was prepared. She listed off some people who might be distant relations (complete with phone numbers), found our family in a book called The Land and People of Moray 1835 and then asked if I had been to my Great grandfathers farm. I did not know about this, but the farm or croft he and the Gilberts lived on (Campbells Cairn) was still in existence a 1/2 mile out of town by the "sandheeps".
So after speaking to the wonderful Doreen for a little more time, Emily and I headed out to the farm. Suddenly next to a large green field surrounded by a stone wall was a small sign that said Campbell's Cairn. We left our bikes at the locked gate, climbed over the fence and walked up to an old stone house and barn. Sheep started to appear from everywhere and kindly escorted us to the door. Not knowing Scottish protocol I knocked loudly. An older alarmed looking man answered the door. The expression on his face showed that they rarely had visitors approach, and much less those wearing bike helmets. I explained why I was there and asked if I could look around and he said he was only caretaking the place for the owners and sure I could look around and then he closed the door and watched us from behind the drapes. So we walked around, looked at the fields, pet the sheep, took some photos and left knowing where I could find the great Gilbert clan 120 years ago.
There's a few more details, but I'll save those for another day with family. Em and I rode back, found Clara and Jim and continued on our journey following the Spey (a famous fly fishing river) towards Grantown.
We sit on a rainy Sunday in a coffee shop that reminds us of an Applebee's. It's the only place in Inverness with WiFi on a Sunday. But it's raining outside with an impending storm sweeping across Scotland so we're taking a train to Edinburgh and will travel southeast. The North has been beautiful and treated us well but we must say goodbye.
We have posted some photos to Facebook--search ScotlandIreland HutchJacobs to friend us if you have not already.
The last time we wrote we were in a pretty little village called Dufftown. We biked by about 10 distillery's and only checked out two of them. JIM was in heaven. The Glenfiddich distillery is definitely worth checking out if you're ever in Scotland's whisky territory. We then biked on a muddy trail for twenty miles and when the rain became too much we pulled over and camped by the river with a Scottish family that was was walking the trail. Scottish Mom and Dad had had enough of traveling with three kids, two of which were 12 and 14 year old girls. I think they were happy to have us as a distraction for a night. We woke up to some rain in our tent, waited for a window of sunshine to take down camp and biked up to Anthony's ancestral past and now I will let him tell you all about his day of Violet's house, burned down churches, graveyards and the birth place of his great grandfather.
Thank you for the setting the stage Clara. We are in Inverness sitting out the storm that caused the lobstermen to haul in 600 lobster pots from the North Sea. A word of warning, for those of you unrelated to me (or even some that are) you may not find the following exceptionally intriguing, but it was a day of returning to a place my great-grandfather Alexander Gilbert left 121 years ago.
The first thing I learned is that no one in Scotland knew where the village was. From our arrival in Aberdeen I asked most Scots people I saw where the village of Knockando was and everyone told me they did not think such a place existed. I was disheartened. Someone finally told me that I was most likelu pronoucing it wrong. After spelling it to them I was told, "Ahh, yes, Knockando". So after years of pronouncing it 'Knock-and-dew', I discovered that it was actually pronounced as, 'No-condo', as in, "Did you buy a house? No, Condo." With the correct pronounciation we followed a bike path on the river Spey from Dufftown through Aberlour towards Knockando. The people I had talked to on the way told me there was nothing there. A shop? No. Pub? No. Bakery? No. Nothing. So we bought groceries and arrived along the river south of the town late at night in the rain.
In the morning we had breakfast and biked in a light rain up long curving green hills covered in sheep that someone had spray painted with green dots. The town of Knockando is 15 houses on a small narrow road. The mobile library van sat idling on the side of the road. There was no one there. It was empty, quiet. We biked past the houses towards the church on a hill above the village. We kept biking 1/2 mile past the village having found no road to get up to the church. We approached a house where a young woman was outside directing a car as it attempted to back out of her driveway. I stopped and said, "Hello, my great-grandfather was born in Knockando." She said, "Wow, come in I'll take you over to my neighbor Violet who is 77 years old and has lived here her whole life." So we all got off our bikes. We look a rough group anyway, but having camped and biked in rain we weren't the type of people an eldery woman welcomes into her home, but there we were and she was offering us tea and as I started pulling out family trees she started thinking of neighbors and people that might be related or might know more.
When I had spoken to a few older Scots in a pub the day before and told them I had come from the Gilberts and the Davidsons, they all reacted as if I were related to some dog-kicking fugitive, supposedly the only Davidson they knew was some local neer do well that owed them all money, but Violet did know some Gilberts and she showed signs of distress when directing me towards them. I kept quiet about the Davidsons.
She told me I needed to bike three miles west to the Archiestown Post Office and speak to the postmaster Doreen Alridch who knows everyone in the area. With that we set out towards Archiestown. Clara and Jim set out for a distillery tour and EMily and I promised to come back and meet them after our visit to Doreen.
The 3 mile bike to Archiestown was filled with green dark treeless hills (munros in Gaelic) and sheep. When we first arrived in Scotland we had seen all these newspaper headlines that said in big bold print "Biker killed by sheep" and "Another biker victim to more sheep". This caused us to envision packs of killer sheep silently stalking bikers, waiting for the right moment to spring out and suffocate their two-wheeled prey with wads of wool and what not and then slowly chew them to death. We biked nervously those first few days, cautiously eyeing the mild seeming sheep behind short easily hopped stone walls, their slow chewing stares seemed omnious, their soft baa's and white fur thinly masking deep muderous impulses towards American educators (and their significant others). No one wanted to bike in the last position until we found out that Biker in English-ese is a motorcycist not a bicyclist and that the motorcyclists had died after striking stray sheep on mountain roads. This idiomatic lesson greatly relieved our sheep anxiety (a difficult condition in Scotland).
When we got to Archiestown we found a small village of about a thousand people. Doreen not only ran the post office as the sole employee but ran the only store in town. All this out of her 8 foot by 8 foot back porch. While I told her the history of my family she waited on customers buying steak pies, stamps and cigarettes. Violet had called ahead so Doreen was prepared. She listed off some people who might be distant relations (complete with phone numbers), found our family in a book called The Land and People of Moray 1835 and then asked if I had been to my Great grandfathers farm. I did not know about this, but the farm or croft he and the Gilberts lived on (Campbells Cairn) was still in existence a 1/2 mile out of town by the "sandheeps".
So after speaking to the wonderful Doreen for a little more time, Emily and I headed out to the farm. Suddenly next to a large green field surrounded by a stone wall was a small sign that said Campbell's Cairn. We left our bikes at the locked gate, climbed over the fence and walked up to an old stone house and barn. Sheep started to appear from everywhere and kindly escorted us to the door. Not knowing Scottish protocol I knocked loudly. An older alarmed looking man answered the door. The expression on his face showed that they rarely had visitors approach, and much less those wearing bike helmets. I explained why I was there and asked if I could look around and he said he was only caretaking the place for the owners and sure I could look around and then he closed the door and watched us from behind the drapes. So we walked around, looked at the fields, pet the sheep, took some photos and left knowing where I could find the great Gilbert clan 120 years ago.
There's a few more details, but I'll save those for another day with family. Em and I rode back, found Clara and Jim and continued on our journey following the Spey (a famous fly fishing river) towards Grantown.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Dufftown, Scotland
It is hard to find wifi to update our blog when we are camping on a beach on the North Sea with nothing but the wind, the waves and giant seagulls to keep us company.
Update:
We got our bikes from Russel the great bike worker. They are fun and fast. From Aberdeen we biked north on an old railway line to Uday Station where we had a delicious meal in the only pub in town. It featured our first experience of Cullen Skink soup, which is like a smoked fish clam chowder--delicious. From there we made our way north through towns like Old Deer and New Pitsligo. There we met a woman who said we could camp on the beach in New Aberdour. We biked to the beach on a road straight down from the cliffs and found three fisherman bringing in their lobsterpots because of the huge storm coming from the North. They told us not too worry too much and that we should be safe until the morning. That whole night we felt the wind ripping at our tents. We woke up safe and went to explore some nearby caves.
We spent my birthday biking uphill the entire time! At one point it took us three hours to travel 13 miles. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me. We then made it to Keith where we met some locals to share some birthday cheer. Had a wonderful Scottish dinner and slept for ten hours, completely exhausted.
We are writing this blog entry in a bus shelter while Anthony holds the laptop in his hands. We are hiding from the rain, waiting to continue. Who know the best free WiFi would be in a village square at a bus stop.
Things to note:
When people say the road is a bit up and down, they mean straight vertical up and down. Don't ask people who have never biked in their lives if a road is hilly or not! Because you spend three hours going 3 miles.
If you are in a pub in Scotland and it is your 29th birthday, every 65 year old man will offer you his shower and garden to pitch your tent. You may want to find a hotel.
If you are Clara or Anthony, a Scottish breakfast isn't for you. Bacon, Eggs, Blood/Black Pudding, sausage, mushrooms and canned beans. We were hungry by lunch. Cereal looked good. JIM loved eating all of my breakfast.
Anthony is trying to find his ancestors and asks everyone if they know these last names and when he said he was related to a Davidson he received a host of nasty comments and upturned noses. The only Davidson in Keith is not a nice person. He is very proud of his official proclamation that states he is returning to his homeland in the year of homecoming 2009.
Much love to all!
Update:
We got our bikes from Russel the great bike worker. They are fun and fast. From Aberdeen we biked north on an old railway line to Uday Station where we had a delicious meal in the only pub in town. It featured our first experience of Cullen Skink soup, which is like a smoked fish clam chowder--delicious. From there we made our way north through towns like Old Deer and New Pitsligo. There we met a woman who said we could camp on the beach in New Aberdour. We biked to the beach on a road straight down from the cliffs and found three fisherman bringing in their lobsterpots because of the huge storm coming from the North. They told us not too worry too much and that we should be safe until the morning. That whole night we felt the wind ripping at our tents. We woke up safe and went to explore some nearby caves.
We spent my birthday biking uphill the entire time! At one point it took us three hours to travel 13 miles. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me. We then made it to Keith where we met some locals to share some birthday cheer. Had a wonderful Scottish dinner and slept for ten hours, completely exhausted.
We are writing this blog entry in a bus shelter while Anthony holds the laptop in his hands. We are hiding from the rain, waiting to continue. Who know the best free WiFi would be in a village square at a bus stop.
Things to note:
When people say the road is a bit up and down, they mean straight vertical up and down. Don't ask people who have never biked in their lives if a road is hilly or not! Because you spend three hours going 3 miles.
If you are in a pub in Scotland and it is your 29th birthday, every 65 year old man will offer you his shower and garden to pitch your tent. You may want to find a hotel.
If you are Clara or Anthony, a Scottish breakfast isn't for you. Bacon, Eggs, Blood/Black Pudding, sausage, mushrooms and canned beans. We were hungry by lunch. Cereal looked good. JIM loved eating all of my breakfast.
Anthony is trying to find his ancestors and asks everyone if they know these last names and when he said he was related to a Davidson he received a host of nasty comments and upturned noses. The only Davidson in Keith is not a nice person. He is very proud of his official proclamation that states he is returning to his homeland in the year of homecoming 2009.
Much love to all!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Aberdeen Scotland
We have arrived in Scotland. Our luggage did not quite make it as we had to run for our connection in Heathrow. Aberdeen is a city made entirely from grey granite rock.
Ok....now I am making Anthony quit with the fancy imagery of the city in which we are staying. We arrived yesterday and found our Priceline hotel 3 miles north of town or as our cab driver said "that's pretty remote." In staying with the true spirit of Scotland Anthony rented us a Holiday Inn Express with an oil rig right next to it. I'm taking the keyboard from my friend Clara that I have to spend the next month with. OK, so we're staying at a fabulous place. Yesterday, we went to the bikeshop to pick our bikes out. Jim and the bike guy, Russel, got along very well and we were well taken care of (when we were picking out bikes and asking him questions all he said was, "That's horses for courses." and laughed, we laughed too, but weren't quite sure why). We enjoyed our first meal at a Scottish pub (Clara had a veggie burger that was deep-fried corn) and then went back to our hotel to get over our jet-lag.
Today we jumped on the train while waiting for our bikes to get ready and went 15 miles south to Stonehaven, a little town on the coast. There we walked to the ocean and followed a cliffwalk to Donnottar castle. The castle was used from the 11th to 18th centuries and was quite beautiful perched on a cliff on the edge of the ocean. The weather has been beautiful. No one here can believe how nice it is. After we got some fish and chips from a chippy and had a picnic in the sun on the beach.
Back to Clara: Are we in the Carribean or on the North Sea? Can't quite tell today. I am sure when we get on our bikes tomorrow morning it will be in a downpour. We are saying goodbye to Aberdeen tomorrow and heading north. Not quite sure where but we will be going but we're hoping to end up in Inverness in a couple of days. Not sure when we'll find a pub with free wireless but hopefully in a few days. After reading Anthony's part of the blog I see that he mentioned the castle was quite beautiful. Well...yes, it was. However, he failed to mention that it was missing all roofs and was in complete ruins. It had been destroyed by a seige in the 18th century, but it took 8 months to get the occupants to give up. They were guarding the crown jewels and when they surrendered the English could not find the jewels. Leave it to a woman to have the guile to smuggle and hide the jewels and come back for them later. Go Ladies.
FYI: Yes, the ladies that are my present company have quite the wits about them. In fact, they go back through my portion of the blog entries and edit out the parts they don't like... Alright, we will be leaving this beautiful grey granite stoned city tomorrow and heading up the north coast on our bikes. The weather is supposed to turn rainy. It will be our first day all biking together. It will be interesting to see how it goes.
Cheers.
Clara, Anthony, Emily, JIM
Ok....now I am making Anthony quit with the fancy imagery of the city in which we are staying. We arrived yesterday and found our Priceline hotel 3 miles north of town or as our cab driver said "that's pretty remote." In staying with the true spirit of Scotland Anthony rented us a Holiday Inn Express with an oil rig right next to it. I'm taking the keyboard from my friend Clara that I have to spend the next month with. OK, so we're staying at a fabulous place. Yesterday, we went to the bikeshop to pick our bikes out. Jim and the bike guy, Russel, got along very well and we were well taken care of (when we were picking out bikes and asking him questions all he said was, "That's horses for courses." and laughed, we laughed too, but weren't quite sure why). We enjoyed our first meal at a Scottish pub (Clara had a veggie burger that was deep-fried corn) and then went back to our hotel to get over our jet-lag.
Today we jumped on the train while waiting for our bikes to get ready and went 15 miles south to Stonehaven, a little town on the coast. There we walked to the ocean and followed a cliffwalk to Donnottar castle. The castle was used from the 11th to 18th centuries and was quite beautiful perched on a cliff on the edge of the ocean. The weather has been beautiful. No one here can believe how nice it is. After we got some fish and chips from a chippy and had a picnic in the sun on the beach.
Back to Clara: Are we in the Carribean or on the North Sea? Can't quite tell today. I am sure when we get on our bikes tomorrow morning it will be in a downpour. We are saying goodbye to Aberdeen tomorrow and heading north. Not quite sure where but we will be going but we're hoping to end up in Inverness in a couple of days. Not sure when we'll find a pub with free wireless but hopefully in a few days. After reading Anthony's part of the blog I see that he mentioned the castle was quite beautiful. Well...yes, it was. However, he failed to mention that it was missing all roofs and was in complete ruins. It had been destroyed by a seige in the 18th century, but it took 8 months to get the occupants to give up. They were guarding the crown jewels and when they surrendered the English could not find the jewels. Leave it to a woman to have the guile to smuggle and hide the jewels and come back for them later. Go Ladies.
FYI: Yes, the ladies that are my present company have quite the wits about them. In fact, they go back through my portion of the blog entries and edit out the parts they don't like... Alright, we will be leaving this beautiful grey granite stoned city tomorrow and heading up the north coast on our bikes. The weather is supposed to turn rainy. It will be our first day all biking together. It will be interesting to see how it goes.
Cheers.
Clara, Anthony, Emily, JIM
Friday, July 3, 2009
Departure Nears
We're off to the airport and about 16 hours of travel... There's nothing like long airplane rides. The dreamlike hours of being served by people in uniforms, entertained with movies and then suddenly everyone is speaking strangely.
Our trip is yet to have a concrete itinerary. We're beginning with two days in Aberdeen and then up north along the coast. We've heard some people surf in Scotland. Then to the village of my great-grandfather that is not on any maps. Then to the setting of MacBeth: MacDuff's Castle, Birnam Wood, possible campfires with interesting new cackling female friends who like to cook.
After this, plans are open though we've heard there is an organic farm/commune on the north coast that grows super-sized organic vegetables that are so large no one believes they are real. Imagine an 18 pound tomato. This is compelling.
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