St. Andrews in Fife

Mom and Dad arrived last weekend bringing some much needed sunshine to Aberdeen. Unfortunately, the weather wasn't quite as excited by their arrival and the sunshine quickly went away and the threat of Aberdeen's first snow storm loomed ahead for the end of the week.  On Thursday we escaped the bad weather and piled into our little rental car with an Alan, an Allen, a Karen, and a Kara (so confusing) to head south to discover Scotland's game: Golf.  Before some of you readers immediately say, "Golf is so boring, I hope she doesn't go into detail about the game," stay with me!....

(Fine, you can skip to paragraph three.)

The famous Swilcan Bridge on the 18th hole of Old Course

The game of Golf is proudly claimed by the Scots as their legend, even though the Dutch were playing "Kolf" on ice in the 14th century (I'm sure it was something entirely different).  The "Old Course" at St. Andrews is the first golf course built around 1400.  Turns out golf wasn't as quiet of a game back then since it was banned in 1457 by King James II because it was interfering with mens' archery practice.  He was a kill joy.  The Scottish, being the wonderfully resilient people that they are, politely ignored the ban and kept on playing on their courses.  The golf ban was repeated several times by different monarchs until finally King James IV tried the game himself and declared the ban be magically lifted.  Now, there are two stories over how golf courses derived to have 18 holes.  The original golf course actually had 22 holes (and you thought the game couldn't get any longer!).  There were 11 holes going out and then you turned right around, did the hokey-pokey, and played the same 11 holes right back in towards the club house (hence the two different colored flags, white going out and red going in, so you didn't get confused).  The first story says that the golfers at Old Course in St. Andrews decided that the first four holes (which are also the last four holes) on the course were too short and they therefore combined them to make two holes.  Thus, we have the template by which all other courses were made, 18 holes.  Of course, I like the second story better.  In 1858 a member of the St. Andrews board suggested that the reason there should be 18 holes is because it takes exactly 18 shots to finish off a fifth of Scotch.  So, when the Scotch ran out, the game was over.  18 holes.  I like that story much better.  

Dad at the first tee

Anyway, we decided that it would be a true shame if we didn't actually play golf at the original birth place of the game.  The sun was peaking through the clouds and the wind was whipping at our backs as we rented clubs and balls to conquer the historic greens laid out in front of us.  Dad took his place at the first tee, and after studying the unique hills, taking into consideration the speed of the wind, and the thickness of the grass on the green, he hit a soft putt out onto the putt putt course.  That's right.  We played putt putt.  Not just any putt putt, though.  This is the warm up putting greens that famous golfers have practiced their finishing shots on.  Unfortunately, none of their talented charms were gracing me as my score would have rivaled any good golfer on a full golf course.  

In front of the Putt Putt Course

After our fun on the greens, we called it a day and headed south to Edinburgh where we would learn that construction and wrong side of the road driving, leads to trying whisky followed by Banoffee pie (a magical concoction of bananas, toffee, and cheesecake).

More later.  

Warming up after an
intense game of putt putt

Northern Highlands

This past weekend Allen and I headed off on a journey that was planned as far as my nose.  I had secured a car and two hotel rooms in the town of Craigellachie and Thurso, neither of which people had ever heard of.  I started to get a little worried about me pushing this weekend excursion to northern Scotland when Allen's coworkers, the Scottish natives and our Scottish experts, asked us,"What's up there?"  The Northern Highlands: "...a wilderness experience of the far north...its all but empty grandeur will leave the strongest impression."  Armed with throat lozenges and Dayquil for Allen, we embarked on our trip with little more than a hope that I knew where I was going.

The first hotel in Craigellachie turned out to be charming.  I was most impressed with the fact that the hotel had real candles lit everywhere, this was a small detail that Allen thought was not that exciting no matter how many candles I pointed out.  I was also a tab bit overly excited about the heated towel rack, the complimentary robes in our bathroom, and the fact that our key had an adorable bronze fish attached to it.  Apparently, these are small things that normal people would overlook, but it all adds to the experience, I say.

Dunrobin Castle

Saturday morning we headed off to Dunrobin Castle located near Golspie in the Sutherland area.  The trees have been changing their colors from green to the shimmering yellow and golds of fall.  The Castle grounds were astounding.  As we showed up to buy our tickets for the tour, the nice gentleman told us, "Hiya, here ya go. The falconry exhibit starts in a bit."  If Allen thought the little bronze fish key could throw me into a frenzy of excitement he was not prepared for this new development.  We bypassed the castle and headed straight out to the gardens.  The Falconry site was in a corner next to the sea offering the best view of the fairytale castle while the soothing sounds of the Norwegian Sea rolled and tumbled around on the coast just over the great stone walls.  The birds were fantastic.  Eagles, owls, falcons, hawks; they were beautiful.  Andy Hughes, a professional Falconer (coolest job ever), gave us an hour long showcase of four different types of hunting birds.  The art of falconry is arguably dated back to 2000 BC or 400 AD (there is actually a fair amount of debate on this subject).  Andy explained the differences between the birds and their amazing eye sight (a falcon has 80/80 vision) and lopsided ears (owls have a lower ear on the left than on the right) which make them incredible, silent hunters.  Andy fed the birds "chicken nuggets" which I was disappointed to see  were cute, fuzzy, baby chicks.  Don't worry, they were already dead.  At the end of the presentation, Andy left the owl out on the bench so we could have pictures with him.  I felt like I was in Harry Potter and I had my own owl!  The castle was enormous and beautiful and I was on such a high from the falconry exhibit that everything we saw made me squeal with excitement.

Rush Hour

Sunday brought on a lot of driving and beautiful scenery.  Allen and I headed to Smoo Cave, which is just fun to say, to see a whooshing waterfall inside the cave.  After telling Allen we could cross the river and not get wet, I got in the car with two soaking wet shoes and we started the long drive back home while listening to Christmas music.  Don't judge us, with no Thanksgiving over here we only have one holiday in between us and Christmas.  It helped pass the time and calm us on the one lane highways.  With only a couple "rush hour" incidents with some cows and a few sheep, we made it safely home armed with stories to tell Allen's Scottish co-workers what lies to the north.

Allen in Smoo Cave

Onward to more adventures!

Huntin' Nessie

First of all I apologize for my absence this week.  My friend Jordan came into town on Friday and we can blame her for the lack of blogs.  :)

Our bags were packed and ready to go.  The car was rented and filled with gas.  Allen, Jordan, and I were packed into the small Class B economy car on our way to Loch Ness on Saturday.  The air was thick with expectations of finding the Living Legend, The Loch Ness Monster, or since we are on friendlier terms, Nessie.  Having prebooked with Jacobite Cruises, the three of us headed straight to the Clansman Hotel Harbour to await for our 12 o-clock cruise.  The lady at the front desk was very kind and accepted my voucher and found our reservations.  She then told me, "Oh, you picked the right cruise there. You're the only three on the boat and the last one had 100."

This was it.  Our chance to prove to Scotland, no, the world that Nessie was here.  Maybe with less people she would be less scared to make an appearance.  Did you know that the story of Nessie goes back to the sixth century?  St. Columba came upon a group of Picts burying a man that had been attacked and drug down into the depths by a water beast in the Loch.  Hearing this story, St. Columba sent his follower to swim across the Loch (this is where I would have stopped following him).  The follower obediently began swimming and the water beast headed straight towards him when St. Columba told the beast to go no further, nor touch the man.  The monster retreated and the Picts praised God and converted to Christianity.  And so began the legend.

Anyway, by the time the boat arrived, the weather decided to provide a rain filled backdrop to add to the mystery of the infamous creature that swims beneath the murky water.  Two minutes of staring into the mystery we got cold and went downstairs where they have a cash bar and the best hot chocolate we have ever had.  Although we had our eyes glued to the windows, there was no sign of Nessie until we finally landed and went to the gift shop, then there were like a thousand!  :)

The cruise was followed by a quick trip to the Loch Ness Exhibition where they dashed our beliefs of Nessie ever being found or real.  It was definitely a mood killer and we were glad we had decided to take the cruise before our hopes were dashed on the rocks.  

Hope everyone is doing well.  Love!