Tag Archives: Americans abroad

Day Two: Grey Mare’s Tail and Adult Sweets

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You can always tell when a hotel caters to multiple cultures. Peebles included on its magnificent breakfast buffet sliced meats and cheeses (German) chunked cucumbers and tomatoes (Eastern Europe) and small round items guests of Korean descent were appreciating. The rest of us left those rice-cake-with-bits-on things alone.

I dove straight for the oatmeal and Scotland’s amazing yogurt. There is nothing like real steel cut oats for a hearty breakfast. And if it’s a dairy product, Scotland does it right.

The Grey Mare’s Tail waterfall amazed the team, and some of the heartier members wanted to hike. (Photos and history here: https://www.nts.org.uk/visit/places/grey-mares-tail) I envisioned calling for a rescue helicopter when Cassidy ran for the top of the waterfall, but more realistic was our growing concern that we should take Harry to a doctor. We have taken tour members to hospitals before. Harry’s “slight cold” had gotten worse but he didn’t want anyone noticing and he wasn’t doing free UK healthcare. Because, Harry’s a guy.

Harry loved the waterfall, as did Andrea. If you show the Meadors birds, bushes, flowers, or falling water, they are happy. So Harry enjoyed the view from his van seat, parked carefully so he could see the Mare’s Tail, while the rest got their feet wet and learned about sheep. Who were now clogging the road and not leaving until they had finished their morning’s graze by the bridge. They didn’t care about our schedule but were willing to pose for photos in return for biscuits (ehm, cookies).

Off to Moffat, home of the world’s loveliest sweet shop. It’s an old-fashioned “by the scoop” place. And in the back they hid adult candy: gin and whiskey miniatures.

(https://www.moffattoffeeshop.com/ if you want to explore once you’ve finished reading.)

Two years ago I set out to taste as many Scottish gins as I could, because new distilleries make gin while waiting for their whiskey to mature. When I mentioned this to the checkout lady, she gave me a sympathetic glance. “You know there are 630 types of gin made in Scotland? As of last Tuesday, and there are new places coming online every day.”

I bought six different miniatures (1% down!) plus some rose and violet creams, which are hard to find stateside. Scotland does candy, gin, and dairy products right. We’re not going to talk about haggis.

The rest of the day was mostly “get to Stranraer, then recover and rest up” because we had a 7:30 ferry to Ireland the next day. Most historic hotels in Scotland don’t have lifts, although Stranraer had a Victorian one. That means a carpeted box where you close the door and the wall slides past you. Historic elevators terrify most Americans, as you can literally harm yourself if you’re stupid enough to put your hand to the wall sliding past. British people rely more on common sense, like “why would you do that” rather than “it is illegal to have such a lift.” And it was tiny, not more than two people with cases at a time. Since we had pulled in behind a tour bus…..

The lift kept Harry and Andrea from having to trundle their cases upstairs, which was great because Harry was not only sick, but the quintessential gentleman who would not allow anyone to help lug their luggage. They got ensconced in their room and Harry conked out for the evening, while the rest of us headed for meat, fish, or vegan courses downstairs. The group had their first sticky toffee puddings, and I wish I had photographed Maria trying that. We all need to find someone who looks at us the way Maria looked at her first Sticky Toffee Pudding.

And there was whatever anyone could manage for sleep before our 6 am departure to catch that ferry, and that was the second day.

Sabbath in Scotland

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Dear Regular Readers (and everybody else *waves cheerfully*) –

You will have noticed a dearth of blogs these last two weeks. Jack and I took a small group to Scotland to tour around enjoying the history and the folk arts. I didn’t keep up with the blog then for two reasons: to concentrate on the making sure our little band of travelers had a good time with all their needs met; and because my doctor and chiropractor said “you really need to rest your wrist.”

So I did. Call it a Sabbath rest; call it a sabbatical. At first I called it weird. As most of you know, when I’m not writing I’m crocheting. So the concept of two weeks in which I neither typed nor stitched was an interesting experiment in self-discovery. Who am I when I’m not being who I normally am?

Turns out, this brief “change is as good as a rest” time was great for both body and soul. More of that later. For now please know I’m starting a one-a-day until we’re caught up with all the tiny scribbled notes on bits of paper and napkin I brought back so each of you could share the tour with us. It was fun. Inspiring. Exhausting in a good way. The kind where you go to bed at night and think, “Yep used up all my energy today making other people happy and had a good time doing it.”

In preparation for the posts to come, meet our crew:

Alan, bus driver – Alan was the founding member of Battlefield Band. He knows a lot about history and occasionally broke into song as we passed towns whose names resonated with ballads he knew or songs he had written.

Zahnke, party of 3: Let’s start with Fiona, the matriarch at 90 years of age. She used a walking stick. That was it. Any suggestion she might want to you know, take it easy, skip an attraction, was greeted with her patented withering stare. Which works better because she’s like 4’11” so it burns all the skin off from your chin up. Then there’s Lulu, Fiona’s daughter, a puppeteer who lives in Majorca. She brought Mr. Fox and Ratsputin on the trip. They did a lot of scene play as we careened across the countryside. And the third Zahnke isn’t actually just a Zahnke, but has a hybrid last name I can’t spell. Gareth is Fiona’s grandson and Lulu’s nephew. He runs a farm in SWVA and as the tour progressed, if you couldn’t finish your three-course-nightly hotel dinner, just tilt the table toward Gareth. He was always ready to take one for the team.

Maria: I’ve known Maria since college, when we car pooled together to University of Tennessee Knoxville. In the past ten years Maria dealt with a life-altering brain tumor, followed by the death of her husband, best friend, and mother in rapid succession. Maria can, as she describes herself, quiver like a tuning fork with anxiety, and she can also come out with some awesome thoughts about life, scenery, and humor. You will never meet a more observant person.

Harry and Andrea: the other married couple on the trip, enjoying their “retirement” years. Although seasoned travelers, this was one of their few overseas vacations. Also, please be aware this sweet couple who launched three boys into adulthood are not quite as, ehm, straight-laced? Predictable? as one might wish to assign them to be. Harry’s dry wit and Andrea’s “I’m not sure about this but let’s do it because it sounds like fun” sense of adventure kept us all laughing.

Cassidy: First time overseas. First time on an airplane. First time having a cup of tea. First time having a Guinness. First fish supper. We stopped counting firsts after awhile. This kid (early 20s) was racking them up. We got in the habit of looking up–when we stopped for petrol near a hill with a trail, or took lunch breaks in a place with a cathedral–to find Cassidy waving at us from whatever the highest point was. A fast walker, a quiet thinker, and a barrel of fun, Harry summed up Cassidy well: You could drop that girl in boiling water and she’d still be happy.

So with Jack and Wendy at the head of this happy band of travelers, look for adventures over the forthcoming days, along with a few observations on humanity in general and Scottish humanity in particular.