10 Things I Learned in Scotland

1. Fermenting peat-smoked barley smells really strong, creates a lot of heat, and looks like a bubbling cauldron of oil sand tailings.
2. 15 varieties of whiskey, when all tasted in the course of one evening, begin to taste okay.
3. They only give 3-day weather forecasts, and even those are usually wrong.
4. I can still jump on a trampoline.
5. Sheep make a sad noise when being sheared.
6. It is possible to buy a swimsuit in less than 15 minutes.
7. Scottish hostels are frequented by retired bank executives.
8. Days last long in Northern Scotland in May.
9. The Scots believe in letting their sheep and cows wander anywhere they please.
10. Slightly shabby manor houses owned by cordon bleu chefs and their gregarious husbands make for great holidays, preferably with a few good friends.

Loch Ness and the Windy Beaches

During the second half of May I went to Scotland with Greg and four other wacky friends. Let me say much whisky and ale was imbibed, but not so much as to interfere with many fantastic days of climbing hills, walking over sandy beaches (without removing our wind-breakers and scarves of course due to the cool temperatures and active "breezes"), and shopping in local crafty stores. The newspapers were full of British MPs' expenses scandal as it unfolded. Not that we paid much attention to that.

Walking in the UK

I just finished reading Bill Bryson's Notes from a Small Island (1995), a travellogue in which the transplanted American author walks about the United Kingdom complaining of poor urban planning, inconvenient train schedules, and rain. He also found some lovely scenery and churches and such. It was a good read for fun. I recommend it particularly if you have been to England, Wales, or Scotland, or if you are thinking of doing so.

Long before my own trip to the UK in 2006, I used to think up places I would like to see there. I wanted to see Jane Austen's house, or her grave, or places her books were filmed. Then I discovered George Eliot, and I wanted to see her house in London. When I eventually made it to the UK, I ended up having less specific plans, though I did see London, Glasgow, Edinburgh, the Isle of Skye, and the town my great-grandfather's family came from near Glasgow.

So, you can imagine my sympathies for Bill Bryson when he wrote, upon visiting Oxford:

I decided to have a walk to Sutton Courtenay for no reason other than that George Orwell is buried there and it seemed about the right distance.

On his way there, things got interesting:

A bit further on the path had been covered with loose chippings, presumably to make the going easier, but in fact the chippings stuck to my muddy boots so that it looked as if I were walking around with two very large currant buns on my feet.

And on it goes. In Blackpool, a seaside resort gone a bit to seed, the author became positively livid about the British way of dealing with the challenge posed by sewage disposal in the sea to the tourism prospects of the town. He writes that in order to adapt to stricter public health regulations, the British government declared that Blackpool and other seaside towns did not actually have beaches. Since the water there contained levels of bacteria that went right off the high end of any "turdometer" by which these problems are measured, it was necessary to declare the beaches not to be beaches, you see.

My own travels today took me to the Gatineau Park for an early ski. What an amazing gorgeous sunny bright freshly snowed upon day!

Surveys, Songs, and Scottish Stuff

The votes are in. It turns out that you, my dear readers, want me to tell you about my unique perspective on things from my own little look-out post onto the world. You want mis-adventures and adventures, mine and perhaps those of other people; something original and something true. Well, well. That sounds like a bit of work!

Okay, I agree. I will try. No movie reviews or recipes. I think I'll have to work my way up to being truly captivating though. The challenge is great. Today, a short report on recent events.

Friday, I went to see Jim Bryson perform at the First Baptist Church in Ottawa. P. and I arrived, as directed, shortly after 7pm when the doors were set to open. There we ran into G. and E. who were seated in some nice mid-pew seats. The church, at Laurier and Elgin, was lovely -- I had never been inside. It has a plain interior, but lovely wood work on the ceiling and lower walls. The music didn't start til after 8 so we had plenty of time to talk. It was interesting to hear about G.'s fabulous new bed and discuss mattress quality options with all assembled. Opening act Baby Eagle had broken his hand, so he had a short-notice stand-in guitarist to play for him, while he stood by the microphone looking like he felt naked without a guitar. He was good in a sweet alterna-troubadour kind of way. Jim Bryson played solo and then played with his band. It was a very good show. As you might expect it was a bit subdued, though some of the faster paced songs really rocked. The highlight came when 5 audience members helped out with shakers on Sleeping in Toronto. Talk about a gangly fun-loving gang of shakers, on stage with Jim and eventually all 5 of his band mates too.

This just in: A new walking path is about to open in Scotland, created by a gang of gangly retired Ayr Rotary Club volunteers. The Ayrshire Coastal Path should be a fabulous walk. Back in fall 2006 I went to Ayr with G.M., and visited Culzean castle nearby (nearby by car anyway) which is on the walking path. The house itself, the grounds, and the view over the ocean were fantastic. The garden had tropical plants like palm trees. It was amazing and I truly recommend a visit to Culzean Castle if you are anywhere in the vicinity. Thanks to J. for news of this important walking development.