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Monthly Archives: September 2014

Great Mary, Queen of Scots or: All That and a Bag of Ham & Mustard Crisps (The Honeymoon Chronicles Pt. 3)

30 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by TGBII in Honeymoon, Travel

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Bath, BCPF, Browning, Chaucer, Chunnel, Darwin, Dickens, England, Food, Handel, Honeymoon, Jack the Ripper, Kipling, Mary Queen of Scots, NATO, Obama, Salisbury, Stonehenge, The Plough, Travel, Underground

Salutations™!!

This took a while longer than I thought it would to get this edition to you, but here I am (Damien, here’s hoping you weren’t getting too impatient!).

So still in London, we took a hop-on/hop-off tour of London and we saw almost ALL there was to see of London, both what we call London, also known as Greater London and Old London (which is actually not that large). We sat on the top deck of the double decker tour bus and went through all the major boroughs. Back past Big Ben, past Westminster Abbey, past Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park, Trafalgar Square, Piccadilly Circus, as well as many of the theaters where shows like Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, Billy Elliot, and Pajama Time. We saw many merchants who service the Royal Family, and both the London Bridge and Tower Bridge; usually mistaken as “London Bridge.” This is not the original London Bridge. Actually, it’s not the second one, either. The first several versions were made of wood and timber and was constructed by the Romans. Then there was another that lasted around 600 years. It was in disrepair and in dire need of reparation. Instead of doing the repairs, the London Council decided to try and sell it. And sell it they did. They sold it to an American oil tycoon for a little over $2.4M. He had it deconstructed and reconstructed in Lake Havasu, in Arizona. The tour also included a boat ride on the Thames River past the London Eye and the Shard, the tallest building in Europe. But, the thing that was most interesting on this outing, at least to me, was the Jack the Ripper Tour. Our tour guide took us around Old London (at least to the parts still standing after the bombings of WWII), following the documented path of events that happened over a three year period in the late 1880s. It was creepier than the ghost tour in Edinburgh because even though that was based on history, the “ghost” part was questionable. This was factually based on police and newspaper reports. It was well worth the time.

The following morning, we had a day excursion to the medieval towns of Salisbury, Stonehenge and Bath. Due to scheduling “conflicts” with the tour company, the tour had to be rearranged. Usually, they would start in Bath then go to Stonehenge and then to Salisbury. We actually did the trip backwards. The conflicts will be spelled out a little better as we go. So first, by bus, Salisbury.

Salisbury Cathedral, England

Salisbury Cathedral, England

DSCN1247

The Cathedral Clock, Salisbury Cathedral, England

Salisbury is a small country town that is home to Salisbury Cathedral, an Early English Gothic style cathedral which dates back to the year 1258. This cathedral was the subject of many paintings by John Constable and also the setting of William Golding’s novel The Spire. Another odd fixture is the Cathedral Clock (dating back to 1386) which really doesn’t look anything like a clock. It’s more of a time piece, or mechanism, than a clock. But, the prized “possession” of the church is one of only 4 remaining original copies of the Magna Carta, which, basically, laid out the foundation as to what most modern day democracies were based. We were given a guided tour, shown the tombs and crypts, and then allowed to peruse the Magna Carta. Of course, none of us, as far as I could tell, could read Latin so we didn’t know exactly what it said, but there were translations available. We got to walk freely about the grounds and it was very interesting to see the structures and architecture. We then made our way back to the bus. We had to go there first because they were closing the cathedral early that day to have the funeral for a bishop that served there for 11 years in 1982-1993. So, then we moved on to Stonehenge.

Stonehenge

Scorp and The BCPF at Stonehenge, England

There’s no explanation needed to describe what Stonehenge is. It’s a circle of mysterious stones. What can’t be explained, however, is how they got there. There is still, after centuries (millennia?), no explanation as to what it is, exactly, where it came from and why. We were driven to this country town and then had to walk down to a staging area where they drove you, via small buses or rover trams, about ¾ of a mile to the actual monuments. We had carry-along personal guided recordings that were listened to like a phone. You punch in the code and then hit play and it tells you something about that particular part. Yes, there are parts. It’s some about the soil, the theoretical history, documented facts, etc. There’s a good bit of stuff to hear. But, just like Salisbury we were rushed out of the park early because of an event. The event, we were told, was  NATO coming to tour. What we didn’t know is that President Obama was with them. So 45 minutes after we left, he took the picture of him standing in the middle of the monument, something that is reserved only for important people. That’s not us, obviously. So ok, we moved on to Bath.

Bath

Honeymooners in Bath, England

Chips

Ham & English Mustard Crisps?

This Bath isn’t  a tub with a detachable massaging head, a “10% More Free” bottle of Mr. Bubble and a loufa. In fact, you certainly don’t want to be in this bath, at all; at least not any longer. Bath is a city of just under 90,000 with green rolling hills and 2 universities. But, the name itself come from the fact that it was once a Roman Spa once a natural hot spring was discovered and used as a shrine to Minerva. After the collapse of the Roman Empire the place fell into disarray, really ruin, until rediscovery. The roof collapsed over time, but the structures near the hot spring were long preserved. You don’t really want to touch the water in the pool because it’s just full of bird poo and other animal “stuff.” You can drink some water from the spring (through a tap, not the pool) and I will say, it isn’t very good; warm and kind of gross. Bath is also known for its ice cream and The BCPF had her some. Of course, we were still in England so I had to have some beer. There was a pub near the bus meeting point and I had some beer. I didn’t get the name of it, but it was pretty good. The remarkable thing here was a bag of potato chips (or crisps in UK) in the flavor of ham & English mustard. Surprisingly, it was good. Weird, but good. Also, something we definitely remembered about Bath was the busker in the Bath Abbey Square playing an acoustic version of “Creep” from Radiohead in front of the grandmas and grandpas and other on-lookers that seemed not too perplexed.

Seeing all those old memorials, shrines, structure, architecture varieties and country side that surrounds them, really makes you realize how young the country we live in is. These are things that are older than most things we know and we’re part of a baby when you put the years in perspective. Most of Europe is like late teens to our still infancy. The 2 ½ hour bus ride back was quiet and serene allowing us to look at more of that gorgeous country.

Westminster

The BCPF outside of Westminster Abbey

The next day, back in London, we visited Westminster Abbey. Westminster Abbey is more than just a church and cathedral, it’s a burial place of many and a memorial to even more historical figures in religion, the arts, philosophy and British politics and sovereign notables. We really went in wanting to see one “wing,” the South Transept, commonly known as “Poet’s Corner.” What we got was so much more. The BCPF has always had a slight fascination with Mary, Queen of Scots and somehow we didn’t realize that she was buried here. She’s actually buried directly across the cathedral from her arch rival, Queen Elizabeth I. I think the interesting part of that is, while she was made to look bad by Elizabeth, Mary, QoS’s tomb is more elaborately and, in my words, cooler than Liz’s tomb. Other notables buried here, and of whom we gawked at their tombs, are: (Monarchs and/or consorts) Henry III, Edward I, Edward III, Richard II, Henry V, Edward V, Anne Neville (wife of Richard III), Mary I of England, Anne of Cleves (wife of Henry VIII) – she kept her head, James VI of Scotland and I of England (and son of Mary, QoS). Some of the notables in the Nave are Charles Darwin, Sir Charles Barry, Sir Isaac Newton and Dr. David Livingstone – yes, of “Dr. Livingstone, I presume,” fame – although his heart is buried in Zambia. There are several other noteworthy areas with important historic people. But, as I said we wanted to see “Poet’s Corner.” In this transept the following people are either represented or buried there: Robert Browning, Thomas Campbell, Geoffrey Chaucer, Charles Dickens, Michael Drayton, George Frederick Handel, Thomas Hardy, Rudyard Kipling, Laurence (Baron) Olivier, and Alfred Tennyson. The bad thing about that was there was so much awesomeness to see and no photographs were allowed. Sad face. Aww.

Plough

Sign for The Plough Pub, England

The last thing (I know I’m long winded tonight) I will talk about is the fish and chips that I ate at a place called The Plough. The Plough was notable because it was in a place where Darwin and Dickens both frequented. The place has obviously gone through several changes in ownership but the same place hosted them. Anywhat, I had to have fish and chips and I must say, (and I don’t say this because they’re friends of mine, or sponsors of The Less Desirables) I believe the f&C at Finnigan’s Wake Irish Pub & Kitchen in Winston-Salem made this British version look like poppycock.  And, The BCPF actually drank a whole pear cider from Strongbow and I think she liked it. Jeez, I love that woman! That was all for London; at least for this writing.

London, I’ll say was a wonderful city; HUGE. The Underground makes for easy movement about the city. There’s lots of history in England to sink our American teeth into. The whole UK was kind to us and now we must depart it in our story. Up next, we ride the Eurostar through the “Chunnel” (tunnel under the English Channel, under the water) into our favorite European city – the City of Light – and more magical stories.

So until next time, dear reader, same blog channel at some blog time (hopefully, not too long, eh Damien?!?)…
Scorp is out!

“London is a bad habit one hates to lose.” – Anonymous (quoted by William Sansom in Blue Skies, Brown Studies)

Mawage, That Bwessed Awangment or: The Vows and the English Bloke (The Honeymoon Chronicles Pt. 2)

09 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by TGBII in Honeymoon, Travel

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Tags

Dalhousie Castle, Edinburgh, England, Food, Fullers, Honeymoon, London, Scotland, Travel, Underground

Scorp & The BCPF 9/2/2014

Salutations™!!

Well, here it is, the second part of the honeymoon posts. Can you believe it!? Within a few days time. It’s almost like a real writing gig, or something. I will say this post is picture intensive. Now, where was I? Oh yeah…

Stephanie & Tim Wedding Day -3

Walking hand in hand after the ceremony

Alright, it’s time for the wedding story. So The BCPF had stuffed her wedding dress into a vacuum bag and sucked the dickens out of the bag until it was a brick of white mess. Of course, I had to take her word for it because I didn’t get to see it. As I mentioned in the last post, I already had the kilt and had to do the “hiring” of the accessories. She unleashed the dress and handed it off to the concierge (or the castle’s equivalent) and they sent it off to have it pressed. So we were set. We got up, had breakfast (more haggis and black pudding), and then went back to the lobby to wait for what-happens-next.

We had hired a wedding planner, Kimmie Brown of Litú, was a treat and a lifesaver for us. Kimmie handled getting all the paperwork put together, she and her husband, George, served as our witnesses, she got the piper, Andrew, hired the photographer, Michaela Waddell, and lined up and directing us through the process of the registrar. Priceless, I tell ya, priceless. Also, we had already pre-selected our vows and ceremonies. So when the time came, we were pretty much prepared. I put on the kilt kit that turned into a much more involved procedure than putting on a tuxedo. The kilt shirt, first. The kilt, next. The waistcoat, the socks, the flashes, the ghillie brogues (shoes) and then the sporran (the man purse of awesomeness), which held it (mostly) in place. The prince Charlie jacket was next to last and then the sgian-dubh (pronounced skee-un-doo) which is a small knife that rounds out the ensemble. I’ve lost a bit of weight since I was originally fitted for the kilt so it was a bit loose. Tradition says that I don’t wear a belt with the prince Charlie jacket, but in the future, I certainly will wear one (I have already purchased one to wear once back home). And the part everyone has asked me… yes, I went unbreeched. Aye, that means I didn’t wear anything under the kilt. If you’re gonna do it, do it Scottish, I say.

Stephanie & Tim Wedding Day -1

First posed pic after ceremony

Stephanie & Tim Wedding Day -2 (1)

“Forehead kiss” and posing with Andrew, the piper.

I wasn’t allowed anywhere near The BCPF while she got ready, but when it was time for the wedding (noon for us in Edinburgh, 7pm for our friends back home), the piper piped me downstairs to the “gun room.” The gun room doubles as a chapel for the religious ceremonies and we used it as a location for our civil, non-religious, ceremony. The registrar talked with me a few minutes and then Andrew piped The BCPF down to the door and then after making sure she was ready, piped her down to me. She was BEAUTIFUL. I don’t have pics of her at the altar, just yet, so we’ll have to wait until the photographer sends me the collection. I cried, no shame in telling. We exchanged words, vows, and rings. We kissed. We signed the paperwork. Michaela shot us all over the grounds of the castle and that was it. It truly was much more glamorous than I just described but without pictures, I can’t do it justice. It was simple, but wonderful. She was my wife, my bride, my life’s partner – which she already was. Dang, I love that woman!

But, as is the story of our lives, there was no rest for the wicked. We had to jump out of our formal wear and into civilian clothes and run back into town to get our last-minute shopping done. We bought stuff for 3B (my 12-year old son) and my mother. We had reservations at the castle for dinner so we headed back and took our   place in the Library Bar, drank some complimentary champagne, talked to a slew of Americans wh

Dinner

Newlyweds in the Dungeon Dining Room

o were also taking holiday, and then went down to the Dungeon Dining Room to have our wedding supper.

Venison

Venison with Beet Sauce

Dessert

Dessert

We started with an amuse bouche which included a mushroom mousse and bread. The BCPF had a chicken pate and I had a beef carpaccio. Our minds not being still and sound at the time, I forget what the actual dish was, but there is a picture of it. For the main course she had a slab of pork and I had venison with beet sauce. I’ve never been big on venison (or beets for that matter), but man this was delicious. For dessert I had a raspberry flan dish, and of course, Grand Marnier. A truly lovely food experience.

Pork

The BCPF’s Pork Dish

Up early the next morning as we had a train to catch from Edinburgh to our next destination, London. The train ride was a four and one-half hour ride. I spent plenty of time on the WiFi updating the website for that week’s The Less Desirables. But, I have to say, First Class is the way to go. We got to choose our breakfast (Scottish for me, please…) and all the tea or coffee or water you can stand. The ride was not bad at all.

 

 

Platform 9 3/4

Platform 9 3/4 a la Harry Potter at King’s Cross Station

Bloomsbury

Room 209 at Bloomsbury Hotel, London

 

In London, the train came into King’s Cross Station and yes, we found the 9 ¾ gate with the cart half in and half out of the wall a la Harry Potter. Had to call the car hire to pick us up since they didn’t know where we were coming in to. They picked us up right away and then took us on to our hotel, the Bloomsbury Hotel. It was ranked #5 on TripAdvisor and we can see why. It was probably one of the nicest, fanciest hotels in which I’ve ever stayed. This, of course, doesn’t count Walt Disney World as those are themed. A close second would be the Ritz-Carlton in Atlanta. This hotel is the first one that I’ve ever gotten a tour of my room. After a free glass each of champagne (to celebrate the day before) we were given our room and the bellman brought up the bags. He then showed us how everything works and how to operate all the gadgets in the room. We have adapters for our electronics and such but they had one already for US standard 110 AC as well as a couple of the European Union and UK standards; they had it covered. The only thing we never figured out, to 100% efficiency, was how to use the shower.  It took me no less than 4-6 minutes a day to get it to the right temperature.  The BCPF, who loves her shower water much hotter than I (I like it just over warm), had to deal with extra hot water.  I, again, after wasted time, could get it to her level for myself.  Ouch!  But, it wasn’t so bad.  There’s a European trend that I can’t figure out.  The showers are all half shower doors (only going from the front to about halfway back), swing out and are very high tubs.  I, and I’m fairly tall, have to hold on to the handles provided and step up and into the shower.  Imagine the 4’11” BCPF trying.  It’s rather comical.

The Bloomsbury was centrally located close to the Tottenham Court Road train station. The London Underground is an elaborate network of subway tunnels that lead all over the city. After about 3 minutes of mapping (we had experience with Paris last year), we were able to traverse the entire city of London (which has a population of just over 8 million people). We bought Oyster cards (re-loadable passes) and took the Underground everywhere.

Big Ben

“Big Ben” Queen Elizabeth II Tower

BCPF Big Ben

The BCPF at “Big Ben”

One of the first places was Jack Horner’s. Jack Horner’s is owned by Fuller’s Brewing (think London Porter, London Pride, ESP, etc.) and we just needed a little snack so we had a couple of orders of fish fingers which are basically fish sticks. They were good and having a real ESB, right there in London, was fantastic. The BCPF had a half pour of the London Porter. Then we just walked about stopping in shops, and made our way around to the Houses of Parliament and “Big Ben.” By now, everyone knows that Big Ben is actually the largest bell, not the tower itself. The tower is the Queen Elizabeth II Bell Tower. We were there right at 6pm so we got to hear the Westminster Chimes.

Scoff & Banter

Dinner at Scoff & Banter, London

We wandered until it was time for dinner. We ate that night at a modern London restaurant called Scoff & Banter. The idea is to have a bit of wit to their food offerings. I’ll say there wasn’t much scoff or banter happening. The food was good, but nothing spectacular. The BCPF had salmon that was on top of tomatoes, but she wasn’t feeling well, but felt better later that evening. I had the rib eye, rare, and it was alright, but again, nothing spectacular. The overall assessment of the restaurant was they tried way too hard.  We were mere steps from the hotel so we went back and spent our first night in the luxurious plushness that was the Bloomsbury.

Well, I’ve reached a good stopping point before the next installment of the honeymoon chronicles. I don’t know if I’ll be updating tomorrow, but as soon as I can, I promise.

Until next time, same blog channel at SOME time…

Scorp out!

—

“By seeing London, I have seen as much of life as the world can show.”   -Samuel Johnson

From Scotland with Love or: Starting a New Life’s Journey with a Tartan Unbreeched (The Honeymoon Chronicles Pt. 1)

07 Sunday Sep 2014

Posted by TGBII in Honeymoon, Travel

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Tags

Dalhousie Castle, Edinburgh, Honeymoon, Life as It is, Scotland

Salutations™!!

I’m writing this on the train from London to Paris. There’s no WiFi but I can write it in the trusty word processor and then change it over. That’s what I’m going to do. I also want to make sure that what happened last year (we took a trip and I failed to finish the blog about it) doesn’t happen this year. And thirdly, I’m due a blog post. So, all-in-all, look at me go!!

So as the title of this post may indicate, there was a major life event that happened this past week in the lovely Scottish city of Edinburgh. The BCPF and I decided to go ahead and take care of that little void we had been experiencing for a while: we got married. Married. Hitched. Wed. Murdered. Whatever the connotation or metaphor you want to use, that’s what we did. Four years of dating and three years of being betrothed, we’re weirdo and wife. Notice I made the distinction as she’s perfectly normal; well, with the exception that she married me and the fact that she is nuttier than squirrel poop. It’s a very charming kind of nutty, though.

Our journey really began in the states. The connector from GSO to PHL wasn’t so bad – small plane, quick, quiet flight – easy-peasey. Took in a brew at an Irish pub located in the area we were to pick up our next flight; the long one. The gate we were to wait at was stocked full of journeymen and women. The plane to Frankfurt was ready to go and they then, to quote Sting, packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes. We were waiting on our group of lemmings. It was quite. Only 20 minutes before our plane was to take off. I looked at the boarding pass, compared it to the gate number… they matched. But, something was amiss. So, I checked with the attendant on duty. DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER! Our gate had been moved. Moved to the other end of that concourse! They told us to hurry. So we picked up and walked briskly (this fat man doesn’t run, not when carrying the carry-on. I was winded, couldn’t breathe, hurting, etc. but I trudged on. The BCPF went on ahead, especially when we could hear them calling our names over the speaker. We were yelling “we’re coming!” but I don’t think they heard us. She got them to hold everything because The Fat Man was approaching. We had paid for early boarding to ensure we’d have baggage room and such. Luckily, we only paid $10 because we’d have lost a shload of money otherwise. So we sat with our carry-on bags at and mostly under our feet the entire six-and-a-half hour flight. Last year we flew United and it was great, USAirways isn’t all that great for long flights. At least, not this one. Seat configuration mixed with horrible viewing points for the “in-flight entertainment” made it an average journey at best. But, really, that was the worst of it.

We hadn’t had time, or the want to obtain a marriage visa which is not required to get married in Scotland. However, if you tell the customs officers in the airport that’s why you’re in the country, they’ll make you pay for one and really, according to our wedding planner, it’s just a money rouse that is unnecessary. So, when asked why we’re in the country, the response was: “a LONG, overdue holiday.” Stamp! We’re in.

Marriott Dalmahoy

Marriott Dalmahoy Backside Edinburgh, Scotland

Marriott Dalmahoy

Marriott Dalmahoy Front Edinburgh, Scotland

Edinburgh (pronounced Edd-in-brah for anyone keeping score), is a beautiful, beautiful city. Lots of green and remarkably very much green. Can you tell it’s green? The city center itself is really quite small for a “world” city while the sprawling countryside goes for miles and miles and miles. We were located in a town called Midlothian which sounds so Shire-esque, really. Our first night in that area was at a very posh and old golf course with a small Marriott-owned castle called Dalmahoy. It was quite nice and the elevator (or lift as they’ll be called for the duration of this trip to keep continuity) was probably the quietest, stillest, and smallest personal lift I’ve ever been in. It really couldn’t fit more than about 3 people and luggage. We hit the floor we wanted and it went nowhere. Or so it seemed. There was suddenly a small (ever so small) jarring and the doors in the back of the lift opened to a completely different location. The room was large, really and the bed was comfortable. It overlooked a courtyard with a tennis court. The bar and restaurant along with the lounge areas were quite classic and what you’d probably think an old golf club or hunting club would look like. You can see the outside of it in the pictures included.

We then called taxi to take us into Edinburgh proper, at least the old town. The BCPF knew we were going to The Royal Mile so we set the car in that direction. Edinburgh was Gothic and awesome. Kilt shops at every turn and never a shortage of extremely nice and helpful people. We stopped in a few shops and even had a bite to eat and a pint in a modern pub called Albanach. The BCPF and I tried a few pints, we both tried 80 Shilling and I had Innis & Gunn’s Rum Finish. Both were superb. The Innis & Gunn was truly a gift find that will be rated a 4.5 on Untappd when I can get back to internet. I also tried a dram of Macallan Ruby Scotch. I mean, we are in Scotland after all.   Also, The BCPF had Cullen Skink (a soup) and I had pate; not too liverish and more spice balanced than some pates tend to be. Quite delicious on both counts.

Then it was time for the Mercat Tours Ghost Walk. Lydia our tour guide had a remarkable scream and she demonstrated and wailed against us at the beginning. I, along with another tour taker was used as an example of an Englishman being tortured and killed in the square. Seems Edinburgh (like most old towns) has a not-so-glamourous history. We wound through vaults, or underground caverns, hearing stories of murder, misdeeds and mayhem. Delightful, indeed.

We had time the first day to grab some breakfast before they closed the breakfast service and then had it again the next morning. I remember watching So I Married an Axe Murderer, in which Mike Myers played not only the central character but his Scottish father as well (this led to the accent used for Fat Bastard in the Austin Powers films) and them talking about something called “haggis,” a traditional Scottish dish. Haggis, basically, is chopped mutton that is then cooked in the sheep’s stomach. I’ve never had mutton that I’m aware of and the thought of eating it from a sheep’s stomach was nothing I really wanted to do. That was years ago, though and I’ve determined to broaden my horizons with food, especially in places where whatever food we’re talking about is their standard. It actually just tasted like a drier sausage and quite flavorful; earthy. Another thing they had was black pudding. Watching Anthony Bourdain in his various programs over the years, I’ve come to realize that anything “black” generally means it’s made with blood. Again, welcome to Tryingsomethingnewville. That wasn’t as good as the haggis but still not bad. We learned – through trial and, well, more trial – that both, especially haggis, are better with honey. Try it, you may like it.

Next was the moving from Dalmahoy to Dalhousie Castle, the place of our wedding. The hired driver, whose name was Meni is originally from Pakistan but has lived in the UK since he was 8. He was way past 8. He told us stories of history and lifestyle in this quaint town. Then we arrived. Dalhousie Castle.

Dalhousie Castle

Dalhousie Castle Edinburgh, Scotland

There is not enough good things to about Dalhousie Castle. Really, there isn’t. It’s old – 15th Century, actually. It’s charming. The staff was so endearing, helpful, and accommodating. Our room wasn’t quite ready so we used Meni to get us back into town (along with my kilt; did I mention the kilt?) so I could be fitted for the kilt hire. Now the kilt was mine but the rest of the accoutrements I had to rent, or as they say, hire. Graeme was awesome and had to even give me bigger socks to fit my rather meaty calves along with ghillie brogues (special shoes) that were one size larger as well. A very pleasant experience that was not unlike trying on a tuxedo in the states.

Then, we had to obtain a taxi and the driver of the requisite black taxi company we got had the personality of a pebble stuck in the tread of the tire. At one point, he even held an extra 25 seconds at a red light because he was reading something. He made fun of the way I said Dalhousie and didn’t speak after that other than to tell us how much the fare was. He was horrible.

Back at the castle, our room was ready and we went to check it out. Again, I can’t enough about the castle. Was a wonderful place. If there was anything that I could say that was wrong was the staircases. There are no lifts (see?) and the only way to get to the room was via stairs. The stairs were the floating kind (meaning no supports visible underneath) and obviously didn’t like the fact that I was a rotund and weighty man. Every time I made a step, the stairs creaked and moaned like they were going to collapse. Truly, it took until we checked out that I even got used to that; not comfortable, mind you, used to it. The room was on the third floor and was the Dalwosie Room. It was private. It was small, but I figure that most of them were. We’re in a castle for goodness sake; the class and style should supersede the space and I’m ok with that. A bathroom that was separated by a small corridor that lead to the bed chamber with a small dressing table in a nook. You’ll see from the pictures. The bed was quite old, perhaps by 100s of years, who’s to say? It had a weird feature in that the foot of the bed was slightly elevated in contrast to the head. It may have been an illusion but that’s how I saw it. The TV was small and off to the right of the room but who had time to watch that?

Dessert at Monteiths

The BCPF and Scorp having dessert at Monteith’s

Dinner at Monteith's

Dinner at Monteith’s

Back out again (this is the third time through Edinburgh this day) to have a walk about and grab some dinner. One thing The BCPF and I pride ourselves on is fact that we’re good at “stumbling upon” good-to-great places to feed our faces. Nestled back in a close (along with wynds, basically Scottish alleys that are named) and located at the end of a decorative stick and light awning-lined corridor was a great little modern Scottish establishment known as Monteith’s. We told them that we were getting married the next day and they brought us a glass of champagne each, along with their congratulations. I had the lox and she had risotto with quail egg. We traded bites and enjoyed the flavors immensely. The egg ran all over her risotto and along with the pea tendrils, made the entire dish delish. There wasn’t really anything extraordinary about the lox, they were tender, smoky and spot on. I then had the rib eye rare, like I do, and a stack of potatoes (fries basically), while she had chicken over creamed potatoes

Dinner at Monteith's

Dinner at Monteith’s

and caramelized onion.

The steak was perfectly prepared and of decent size; not overly spiced. Her potatoes were decadently creamy and the chicken was moist. Then for dessert she had chocolate on chocolate cake while I had a raspberry crème brulee along with an alco-bev each (chocolate for her and something orange for me). The dessert was probably the least favorite of the whole meal for me.

This has gone on really long and I’ve not even started talking about the wedding yet, which I know, dear reader, you’re just dying to hear about, or maybe you’re not, but anywhat, I’ll be getting to it soon. I have plenty more to write. Maybe even tomorrow. You never know.

So until next time (which will be the continuation of this story), same pod channel at SOME pod time…

Scorp Out!!

—–

“There are few more impressive sights in the world than a Scotsman on the make.”
-James M. Barrie

 

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