Hobbits In Rivendell

…must come to an end. Sigh. The car is coming for Van at …three a.m., and soon the house will be empty of anyone to finagle into taking sides in an argument, or to beat us in Scrabble (badly. Laura, we’re in need of practice; he wiped the board with us twice), or to snicker at us and tell us we have accents. (PLEASE NOTE: WE DON’T. No matter what Van says. We don’t. No, seriously. What a glaiket idea.)

Other than napping, castle-hunting, walking, shopping, and learning Gaelic insults, Van additionally participated in yet another classic Glaswegian tradition — he drank some Irn Bru. “Made from Girders” is the marketing line. Contains ammonium ferric citrate … which would be …girders. Van says it tastes like rust…

It’s been a quiet last two days. The weather turned downright nasty on Friday with fifty-five mile per hour winds and freezing rain, so other than making a quick trip out to pick up a few last minute gifts (the man must shop for all of you back home, after all), Van declared himself all sightseeing-ed out. We stayed in and played Scrabble, made French bread, ate one last meal of haggis and mushroom tatties, and talked ourselves hoarse.

Today, while D&T attended a three hour orchestral rehearsal in the afternoon, Van did a bit more shopping… more shopping than he intended, but the University Gift Shop is a flat out dangerous place to be if you’re left on your own for three hours. Van did a bit of solo museum-ing, making it to The Museum of Transport, a place which D&T haven’t yet seen. Together again, we got soaked flagging a cab, got home for a quick bite, and came back to the University for our concert…

…which was just… amazing. It was flat out gorgeous music, wonderfully live acoustics (no electronic assistance with that, yet again) and wonderful vocalists. There is nothing like singing the music of John Rutter, for those musicians in the group — seriously, nothing. The requiem we sang was one of the most requested for memorials after the attacks in New York in 2001, which gives you some idea of the beauty of the music and the depth of emotion in the text.

T. was standing in shoes that pinched, and D. kept getting whacked in the head with the score of an over-enthused bass singer behind him, but in the end, the heavenly music made the earthly concerns of aching feet, sore backs and hoarse throats subside. This is the end of the Choral Society’s season, and it hardly seems possible; these eight weeks have just flown by. (We can’t wait for next year; it looks like Bach and Mendelssohn, stay tuned…)

Van’s visit has flown by as well, and in four hours, the car will come for him. Despite the Scrabble catastrophes (he does try for those little red squares, but it’s just not noble to play for points, is it??), it’s been so much fun castle-hunting and haggis-eating and dragging our friend from pillar to post. Looking forward to doing it again when the rest of you visit.

Cheers,

– D & T

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T. ended up sitting this one out, due to an overwhelming number of writing projects that weren’t getting finished, but the intrepid D. and Van trekked out to the close by city of Dumbarton with an eye to visiting the castle there.

According to the history, “Dumbarton was the centre of the ancient kingdom of Strathclyde from the 5th century until 1018. Impressively situated on a volcanic rock overlooking the Firth of Clyde, it was an important royal refuge.”

Unfortunately for all of that impressiveness, the castle, with its 547 stairs (!!! A great day for T. to skip, eh?) is closed during the winters on Thursday and Friday, so alas for our adventurers! They took pictures of as much of it as they could reach, but we’re saving Dumbarton Castle, a mere twenty minutes away via train, for next time Van’s in town. Or else, when N&K are here in April, we’ll start their castle touring off there!

Van had some shopping to do for his vast network of workmates, so the rest of the morning was profitably spent, picking up those “only in Scotland” gifts that will make people back home smile. It seems everyone needs shortbread, haggis, and Scottish flag fridge magnets, after all! D&T have no real idea of where the best touristy shopping might be found, but are happy to wander along and be amused at the number of hideous tchotkes people will sell. (Plastic thistles, anyone?)

Another interesting gift shop thing we saw was.. sticks. Allegedly, these sticks are meant for oat porridge; they’re spurtles or spirtles (or they’re also known as theevils). They’re simply early wooden spoons… without the round bit of the spoon, only the handle. We looked at the cloth for clootie dumplings, the steamed Scottish pudding we have yet to enjoy, and realized that what was sold in the gift shops for several pounds could be purchased at the grocery store… as it is just a bit of flour sacking. Still, it was fun to look.

Van opted out of tagging along to the University for Choral Society rehearsal, so D&T toddled off to spend an intense two hours working over their Hebrew and moaning, along with everyone else the inclement weather and the loss of their voices and the nearness of the concert — March 1!

Yikes. We are SO NOT READY.

Thank goodness for singing with the organ, which will boom along from the balcony of the gorgeous chapel building and drown us out!!!!

D. picked up a ticket for Van to enjoy the show, and we sloshed on home.

Van will only be here for a few more days, but we’re all pooped, and tomorrow plan to just take it easy!

– D & T

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There is an energy that comes from that atomic fireball we know as the sun. The moment we woke up and saw it a sunny morning in Glasgow, we knew another major trip was on the day’s agenda.

Major is, of course, relative; Edinburgh is only a little over an hour and a half away via train, but since the sun was out, we were much more persuaded that we should spend the entire day out and about.

Without dawdling over breakfast, we bundled ourselves and our gear into the station and took a scenic tour of gorgeous Central Station… which has no direct trains to Glasgow. Oops. Once we got to the correct station, Queen Street, we enjoyed a quick express dash to the city, which was still sunny and packed with the massive amount of colorful tourists, itinerant Hare Krishna monks, pipers, shoppers, political pollsters and others who we always seems to find there.

Edinburgh Castle was very, very different in feel from Stirling Castle. Many of the natives have told us that Stirling is better, and now we can see what they mean. Edinburgh Castle is still being used as a military installation. If you’re a fan of weaponry and military history, you’ll really enjoy some of the displays — there’s armor and hauberks and axes and old pistols galore. There’s a huge memorial chapel. There are actual soldiers in camouflage gear. Edinburgh’s identity as a castle is second to its identity as a military billet.

Probably because Edinburgh is more of a tourist haven than Stirling, there are legion tshatshke shops, seemingly every few feet and quite a few more things in the castle behind velvet ropes. We saw the Honors – the Stone of Scone and the crown jewels of Scotland – but weren’t allowed to photograph them for security reasons. Additionally the memorial chapel was off-limits to photography as well, for reasons of respect for the dead. Still, the interactive displays, including mannequins in period costume, the architecture, and the panoply of the city from atop the hill make Edinburgh Castle well worth the climb.

When we wore ourselves out on cobblestoned streets and stone edifices, we walked down into the town to discover what else Edinburgh had to offer. Several touring companies offer a hop on/hop off bus service, which allowed us to see the entire city and hear several amusing guides discuss the million dollar windows on the Parliament building, the famous who have frequented the city, and the pubs where the sons of royalty come to have a drink when they’re in town. Of course, fame has nothing on us, as Van managed to be interviewed by none other than BBC Scotland about his perception of the way Scots …dress!!

Since he was swaddled into a huge coat on what appeared to be a sunny day, he made some wry remark and smiled big for the camera. If any of you happened to have seen the news last night, Van was the guy with brown hair, sunglasses and a large black coat…We arrived at the flat too late to catch the nightly news, and anyway — being well accustomed to the paparazzi and the cameramen, we forgot all about it…

(Isn’t that embarrassing? You’d think Van might have remembered. But no…)

We finished our time in Edinburgh with a trip to The Museum of Childhood, which is a tall, narrow building with five galleries full of the assorted flotsam and jetsam of childhood — from games and toys to children’s ration books from the 40’s, to the first British spellers and grammar books. The recordings of voices of children singing counting games and jump rope chants was cheery background noise for our own memories of messing around when we were kids, and the “nursery” upstairs with the dress-up toys made us laugh. Pretty much every American kid who’s read Peter Pan or any British children’s book has been jealous of the fact that they didn’t have a nursery, too!

We weren’t jealous for too long, however. We stopped at a pub for dinner, and D. treated us to tablet — evil, evil Scottish fudge — and when we finally got home, we were cold and tired, and the flat was nice and warm.

Really, all that with friends along, too? It doesn’t get any better.

– D & T

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Today was a day of plants and portraiture, statues, snowdrops and some really gorgeous orchids. First off, though, our day was about ancestry and records.

On the third floor of the Mitchell Library an entire floor is given to the research of Glaswegian family trees. Van and D. took a trip up (while T. noodled around on another floor, inexorably drawn to children’s books) and found a sympathetic librarian who peppered him with questions, and in the end directed him to another building just down the street. Notes for those researching a family member’s history in Glasgow: know what they did for a living. There are registries that workmen paid to belong to in that era, divided by job, almost like union rolls. Those kinds of details can help you be successful in finding your search.

The wind has continued to be a real frustration, and today reached gale-forced gusts. Sometimes at the bus stop it felt like we were standing in a hurricane. Periodically the rain turned to slush, but we didn’t mind as much as we could have, because our destination was the Botanic Gardens.

The Botanic Gardens opened in 1817, and are made up of the Kibble Palace Glasshouse, which is a the main entrance and a huge 19th century affair, and three other massive glasshouses which are interlinked by passage ways. Though we wandered for the better part of two and a half hours through rooms full of killer flowers, cacti and plants from around the world, we ran out of time before we ran out of glasshouse. Our last one was the Palm House, which was full of towering trees, some of which are over a hundred years old. We visited an orchid house, with an anteroom filled with daffodils, nasturtiums, orange and yellow striped tulips, poinsettia, hyacinths, and more. The smell was overpowering and glorious.

Another room had dry, sweet air that reminded us surprisingly of the high deserts and mountains at home. The smell of “mountain misery,” or mountain laurel, brought to mind years of summer camp and a family Thanksgiving in the mountains, and T. had to restrain herself from snapping off a piece of plant. (Naughty!) To a certain extent, Glasgow is virtually flower-free… we hadn’t noticed how living in a city deprived us of everyday greenery. In all likelihood, things will change in the Spring, but city life isn’t suburban life. Though there are parks, manicured greenery isn’t quite the same as countryside … fortunately, there are indoor gardens and we now know where to find them.

A lunch of crepes at a local shop crammed with university students, and a quick stop at the bank and we were on our way to Kelvingrove Art Gallery for more statues and art. Of course, D. had to actually go to school and give his presentation, so he abandoned T. and Van to their own devices, but the Kelvingrove is massive and they were entertained for hours.

Favorite exhibits included the armor upstairs, the steam engine and the beautiful preScotland room, with all of the Viking artifacts. T. and Van couldn’t decide whether to be upstairs or down, and after much wrangling and mini-arguments and small tantrums from T., they did half of the downstairs, and half of the upstairs. Van is saving the other half for his next visit.

D. joined the dueling duo a little after three, and we decided we were a little head and heart-full with the artwork, and it was time to go home for our next little project — a homemade Scottish dinner. We braved the wind and rain to race home and popped the haggis in the oven.

Oh, yes. Really. Haggis by MacSweens, an Edinburgh company, only there’s a vegetarian version as well which contains kidney beans, lentils, peanuts, walnuts, almonds, carrots, turnip, mushrooms and margarine; together with the traditional oatmeal, onions and our special blend of spices and seasoning. These are all cooked together, and filled into a plastic casing to produce the national dish of Scotland.

On the advice of our friend Holler, we paired our haggis supper with a creamy mushroom gravy, and added garlicky kale and “tattie mash” as side dishes. We were shocked by how absolutely tasty it was.

Wow! We’ve had haggis! It was good!

Van has, by the way, given us permission now to move to Stirling and has promised to visit again if we do… of course, he’s said the same thing about just about everywhere. Tomorrow it looks like Edinburgh Castle is on the agenda, perhaps with a stop at the Museum of Childhood, a place T. has been dying to go ever since she caught a glimpse of it her first visit to Edinburgh. The weather even promises to behave tomorrow and is forecast as being only “partly cloudy” — though no one actually believes that. Our party will be wearing t-shirts and sweaters over long-johns and carrying the usual array of hats, gloves, scarves, and sunglasses.

Only in Scotland.

– D & T

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(We know, we know. Enough with the bad pun titles.)

The good news is, we finally all got a good night’s sleep! The bad news is… well, we all overslept, had to hop up and SCRAMBLE for our clothes …and missed our train anyway. The good news is, there’s a train every half hour or so to Stirling, and the sun was shining brightly so we were off for another adventure.

People on the trains heading to work are generally already on their Blackberries and texting, but our seat mate on the train was kind enough to tell us a few things about the countryside and Stirling itself. He pointed out the Falkirk wheel as we passed it, and well as The Wallace Monument, and confirmed D’s sighting of the Antonine Wall, which predates Hadrian’s Wall as an attempt at a Scottish border. (“They tried to keep us out,” our seat mate says succinctly.) We amused him and then bounded off into our day… which was freezing cold but clear.

After trying to figure out how to get to the side of town with the castle, we found a fabulous direct-to-castle bus, which took us up the winding hilly cobblestoned roads. We were thrilled to bits, to say the least, and when we turned the corner to the castle, we were caught off-guard. It was bigger — and closer — than we remembered.

(D&T remembered the town, anyway… having gone to Stirling and started halfway up that hill on foot a few months ago but turning back because of driving rain.)

We took a few minutes to take pictures of the Ochils across the valley and the outside of the castle, the statuary and each other. (Every once in awhile, you just… have to be a tourist.) We then got out of the wind and had a cup of tea.

We walked into the tea shop out of the sunshine and cold wind. We walked out of the tea shop to our tour group… and saw banks of gray clouds. Wind battered at us as we stood on the ramparts. The temperature dropped further. By the time our thirty-five minute tour was over, there were a few stray raindrops…

Stirling Castle was a treat not only because it was a castle, but because it was a hands-on castle. We remarked frequently that in other museums we would have been kept behind velvet ropes and all areas would be heavily guarded to avoid damage to them. Instead we sat at the High Table in the Great Hall and pretended we were kings and queens. We stuck our heads down arrow sights and pretended to target passers-by (who fortunately didn’t look up and notice this). We climbed on walls, picked up trenchers in the great kitchens and silently watched the weavers in the tapestry exhibition. We ran around like crazy people until we’d seen just about everything.

Our day’s ticket also gave us entrance to Argyll’s Lodging, the 17th c. home of the Earl of Stirling. By the time we got to the house, it was raining fitfully, and the wind was gusting. The museum was largely deserted, and we enjoyed having it to ourselves, as there were actual fires built in the fireplaces upstairs. T. found a fainting couch in the drawing room and plopped down to enjoy the cozy rooms.

The sumptuously appointed rooms were shades of purple — including the padded chamber pot. (Yikes.) The tapestries and draperies on the walls were largely purple as well, but after seeing the weavers, we knew how much work went into those — and what wealth they represent. The Earl of Stirling was a very, very rich and connected man.

After poking around the residence, we visited the gift shop, and were directed by a very savvy and lovely saleswoman to a pub for lunch. It was cozy and looked like it fit right in with the old stone castles and sandstone buildings around us. That’s because it was built around the same time, and was an old schoolhouse! We enjoyed a light lunch, and Van finally got his traditional UK meal of fish and chips.

All good things must come to an end, however! We had to leave the pub… and boy howdy was it raining by then. The WIND was roaring along, we were pulling up hoods and cramming down hats and our legs were sopping wet from the wind driving the rain toward our faces. We were shivering and hurrying — but couldn’t pass up a church, The Church of the Holy Rude, which was, sadly, closed. D&T turned away and hurried back down to the street, but Van tried the door… and went in. Unbeknownst to D&T who were waiting for him, huddled in the scant protection of a tree, he’d found some women of the vestry indoors. The church was closed because the BBC was going to be filming there later in the day (they’d been at the Castle earlier), but the woman in charge was thrilled to bits that he was from California and told him to come on in and take pictures. When Van FINALLY ran back to join D&T, they were soaked (!) and a bit worried, but pleased with his success.

Van also picked up a bit of gossip – apparently the actress Susan Sarandon and her film crew were recently at this church, and deemed it too “new” looking to appear in a film where Sarandon will be playing Mary, Queen of Scots. Unfortunately, Mary actually was in that very church, and I’m afraid she’s annoyed at least one Scot a great deal. “That film’ll never play in Scotland,” said the woman with great asperity.

Oh dear.

The trot to the train station was swift, sodden, and just not short enough. We were rain-stung, as the needle-like drops were driven against our faces, and beyond wet when we arrived in the waiting room and pressed against the heaters with great joy. We were too wet to do much more than huddle with teeth chattering for awhile, but we’re already talking about what we’re doing tomorrow.

Cheers!

– D & T

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Walking in the wind sure takes a lot out of you.

That’s mainly what Van discovered this weekend, and what was reinforced for D&T. Fighting the wind is just plain tiring. If you’re gabbing with friends and having fun (discovering the world of Scottish desserts known as the “knickerbocker glory” — has ANYONE else ever heard of that? What about a Black Forest Knickerbocker Glory? What does any of it have to do with New Yorkers, which are what ‘knickerbockers’ are, or else they’re the short pants…? How the heck did that end up being a dessert!?), you can be carried along by the momentum of silliness, but the next day usually knocks you on your bum.

That’s what happened to Van today: he slept. A lot. Of course, waking at 4 a.m. Sunday morning didn’t help him stay awake during the day, but after a big breakfast and a long chat, he drifted into a little catnap… and then another one…

He did get out for a nice long look at the bridges and architecture near our flat…

…and thought it was really something. He was really impressed, if a little cold and exhausted. He took lots of pictures…but he came home and took a wee nap… then went to bed at 8 p.m. He’ll be more alive tomorrow…!

Meanwhile, D&T are enjoying having a guest, not only because he’s a friend, but because it’s reinforcing to them just how lazy they’ve gotten.

Or maybe ‘lazy’ is the wrong word.

Maybe the word is ‘routine.’

When we lived in Benicia, it took us maybe two years to really discover the waterfront, and by the time we left, we were walking there every day, reveling in the wind blowing off the bay and admiring the chalk drawings with which some enterprising artist decorated the sidewalk each week. But it took us two years to notice. How many years have people lived in the Bay Area without taking a Bay cruise or visiting Alcatraz or even seeing the Martinez Museum? Does it just take too long to remember to look around like a tourist?

We live in a place of varied moods and appearances. Glasgow has bits of gorgeousness in all sorts of places, but sometimes we just don’t take the time to look. We’ve been pretty heads-down, hands-busy for the last number of months, and our worlds have narrowed to the path between the University and our flat, the grocer and our flat, and …well, just sometimes our flat. On the weekends we’re tired. At the end of the day we’re tired. Things tend to wear us down along with the rain and the wind, yet the world a half mile down the road is something to see. It’s good to have a guest sometimes to remind one to look.

– D & T

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Whoosh! The first thing Van experienced of Scotland was the weather as his plane tried to set down. It was windy, windy, WINDY and a bit chilly. Still, we got in and settled just fine.

The afternoon our guest arrived was like “Christmas,” and his extra luggage carried for us, among many other treasures, twenty-five pounds of pinto beans (and so THANK YOU EVERYONE, but there’s now a moratorium on anyone else sending us pintos), a huge bag of baking soda (which was helpfully perforated and leaked everywhere: thanks, Customs!), and D.’s long lost birthday+Christmas gift all rolled into one: a digital camera. Hopefully all of our blog pictures will now be vastly improved over our cell phone pictures!

We had a great visit and kept Van up talking until 8:30 p.m., whereupon he became incoherent, mumbled something, and stumbled off to bed…

…and rose the next morning at 4 a.m.(!!!). Fortunately, D. was up playing with his camera already (!!!) which meant T. was up soon as well (!!!!!!!!!).

We made breakfast and at 7:30 hopped on the train to Dundee where at nine we met Holler & G-man for a ramble around the town (roughly 6 miles of the twenty-six mile square that makes up Dundee), some castle-visiting (they’re not exactly huge in “Dùn Dèagh,” as its called, but they’re pretty, and Broughty Ferry Castle has a museum that is interesting. It’s surrounded by gorgeous grounds right next to the sea.), and some hill-climbing.

(Well, “law” climbing, anyway, since law is Scots Gaelic dialect for “hill” and Law, Dundee is an actual leftover basalt volcanic plug 500 feet [or 174 meters] above sea level) It was a rough climb in that whipping wind — T. slipped down a couple of stairs and scared herself — but it was so well worth it for the view!)

Atop the law, the wind favored us with gusts at least 50 miles per hour, and at times we were about knocked off of our feet, but it least it wasn’t raining! It was instead a marvelously bracing day of walking, climbing, being blown around, and laughing. Not only our guest, but the people we were with are… well, certifiably insane…not to put too fine a point on it, and we won’t name names but …um, nuts. And lots of fun.

Wandering through town offered us plenty of time to catch up and see Dundee, which is really a peach of a city, and Scotland’s fourth largest. The waterfront area reminded us — to the point of heart-pangs at times — of Benicia… (*sniff!*) except with gigantic sandstone churches, lots of statuary and some really unique history. (Eventually we even learned the tale of the Nine Maidens and the Dragon — even if we couldn’t find a nearby Dundonian who knew it!)

Originally, we’d intended to visit Dundee to see an historic vessel, and Holler was even good enough to get us a coupon for a free ticket to R.R.S. Discovery, but as G-man used to be a tour guide on the ship, they figured they’d seen enough of it for their lifetimes. We decided to continue to pester them instead of going to the ship alone, which will, after all, be there next time. We went, instead, in search of castles and the famed ‘Swanny Pond…’ Oddly enough, we never saw that pond… but we did manage to crash a wedding. Again. D&T are beginning to believe that they are slowly earning the enmity of the marrying Scots public — but they dear people will keep swanning around in castles with pipers and kilts! It simply invites one to gawk. We kept our visit to this wee castle short — but if the bride wants to drop us an email, we have lovely pictures of the wedding party…

Late in the afternoon, Van finally met up with a friend from Spain (which in itself was hilarious — as we drove around trying to find him, G. spotted a man on the sidewalk on his phone… and we all saw each other and waved), and D&T went on to introduce their hosts to the wonders of their Asian market — another Matthew’s owned by the same family as ours in Glasgow — and threaten them — er, promise them that someday they’d learn to like tofu. Or else. We then ended the day with a fabulous meal at a local theater café (vegetarian haggis… lasagna. Hmm, top that for a classy meal!), desserts, and lots of chat.

As soon as we got on the train, Van’s eyes glazed — it really had been a long day — but it was a day of unbridled silliness and fun, and we were told that if we would perhaps move to Dundee that Van would perhaps come back and visit more often!

Sunday will be a bit quieter, as the wind is still whipping and the rain is falling straight up, and we’re all a bit tired from being bashed about and rained on here in Glasgow! Van is only hoping to get out in the wind and rain to see some of the bridges and other architecture near the Lancefield Quay, the BBC Building and the Science Center. We should never have let the Dutch surname confuse us — Van’s great-great-grandfather was born and raised in Glasgow, and once again, another American is here to delve into his family tree. Monday Van will begin searching for the history of the Simpsons clan in Glasgow at the lovely Mitchell Library, and we’ll maybe take a ferry ride… but only if the wind dies down. Stay tuned!

(There are almost two hundred shots of Dundee on Flickr, including some of the wedding. Want to view our whole day as a slide show? click here.)

– D & T

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After a few hours of frantic cleaning, Chez Hobbit is open for business!

Though we’ve been planning Van’s visit to the Hobbit Hill for weeks, life has intervened in the form of an oral presentation D. has been “invited” to do on Tuesday, and a conversation T. needs to have with her editor on Monday. Extra Choral Society rehearsals have been called for Thursday night. However, our guest is very game to be dragged along to wherever. In return, we hope to drag him to all the museums, Stirling Castle, to The Ubiquitous Chip restaurant, to The People’s Palace and Winter Gardens, and to various Scots eateries for a traditional Scots “fry-up,” haggis, high tea, and more… Yes, our guest is the adventurous sort.

Confidential to Mr. Blinkey: We’ve got your Dad… we may not give him back!

– D & T

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