Last year, our daughter moved from Nashville, Tennessee to a sleepy village in Scotland called Milngavie. It’s located seven miles northwest of Glasgow. (The move was precipitated by our son-in-law’s job transfer). While my wife and I have always encouraged our kids to travel, Nashville to Milngavie seems quite a cultural shift. But Holly is comfortable over there. She’s more Vauxhall Corsa than Dodge 4×4, anyway.
Last month, I finally got to visit them and our two granddaughters. The only thing I missed, aside from The Lawrence Welk Show, was American sunshine.
One of my familial lines leads to Scotland, so it was a sort of coming home. My middle name is Scott, a family clan name traced to ancestor William Scott, who ran a deer park and salmon fishery in Scotland in the 1700s. Bill fled Scotland for County Derry, Ireland (something about papists). His grandson, James, then ratcheted up the rebel thing and sailed to the state of William Penn. Jimmy Scott then joined the Pennsylvania Line to battle British Redcoats during the American Revolution.
Coincidentally, my plane landed on July 4, which is America’s Independence Day (also my birthday). In England, some call this “Treason Day.” Really, everything is a circle.
But I discovered both the English and Scottish were exceptionally friendly, bending over backwards to help a stupid Yank with train and bus info, directions, money confusions, etc. They all noticed my hayseed accent and were curious where I was from. To avoid apologies and embarrassments due to recent events, I just said “North America.” Fortunately, they didn’t push for details.
The highlight of my trip was spending time with my granddaughters, Avi (22 months) and Rory (4 months). But I did manage to sightsee some. Here’s a wee bit of my travels in the land of clans and kilts. And I promise, there will be no photos of kilts or bagpipes here.
MILNGAVIE (pronounced “Mull-guy” per the original Gaelic): the Scottish love their dogs, and I saw more dogs here than anywhere I’ve ever been, and they’re all very well trained. Hikers also flock to Milngavie, because the 96-mile West Highland Way, one of the UK’s most popular distance trails, begins here. I met hikers from Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Croatia, California, Seattle, and elsewhere. Early one morning I met a local man named Chris, who was doing a one-man protest to save an old English phone booth (“phone box”) from being removed. He explained that, in Scotland (or maybe just Milngavie), authorities won’t remove or destroy anything if at least one person shows up each day to protest. (Does that include living things like trees?) Anyway, I think that’s a great law.
The center of Milngavie, like many towns across Europe, is a brick walkway for pedestrians. Lots of quaint shops and cafés, including Fantoosh Nook, where Holly and I ate lunch one day. My friend Neil…Yeah, Another Blogger…visited Edinburgh recently and mentioned Cullen skink, which I sampled while at the Nook. It’s a smoked haddock and potato soup that has a bacon flavor. I loved it…a far cry from Campbell’s New England clam chowder. Thanks for the tip, Neil, you blogger you.
Along the West Highland Way, just north of Milngavie, I visited Mugdock Park. The park is named after Mugdock Castle, which dates back to at least 1376, and was in use until the mid-1600s. It was the stronghold of a clan named Graham. Parts of the remains of the castle were rebuilt over the centuries, but the main tower is original. When I visited Jamestown, Virginia a few years ago, my mind was boggled to think that, just under my feet, there rested relics and bones dating to 1607. But 1376?? That’s beyond boggling.
GLASGOW: along with Edinburgh, Glasgow is one of Scotland’s two major cities. Both have their merits. Edinburgh is definitely more scenic, with its storybook architecture. But it’s also rampant with tourists. (Tourists spend quid, which help local populations, but we also taint exactly what we’re drawn to.) Glasgow, on the other hand, is more of a working city, and the Scaw-ish brogue is more evident here. It’s said that Edinburgh is where you want to visit, but Glasgow is where you should live. Not sure this is 100 percent accurate, but it might come close.
I spent a half day with Holly and Avi in Glasgow. We visited Kelvingrove Park and University of Glasgow. Both were impressive, but I have to be honest and say that the main delight was pushing Avi on the swing, and holding her hand while strolling across the university grounds. That grandparent thing is for real. Next time, maybe Avi won’t be along to absorb my attention, and I can soak up more of this vibrant city.
EDINBURGH: one day I took the train from Milngavie to Glasgow to Edinburgh and enjoyed a rare hot and sunny day in this historic city. I exited Waverley Station in Old Town, and the first thing I saw was a massive blackened spire piercing the blue sky, towering hundreds of feet above Princes Street. With Ohio Yankee naivety, I initially thought the spire might be part of a castle. Then I got closer and discovered it was a monument to my “cousin,” Sir Walter Scott. It’s the second tallest monument to a writer in the world.
Speaking of Mark Twain, the bard of the Mississippi River used to, if I recall, ridicule Scott’s penchant for high romanticism. And maybe that’s why I never read him (Scott, that is). Does he really deserve such an impressive monument, even if we are related? Maybe one day I should put down Mad Magazine and read Ivanhoe.
Then, across a valley, I spied Edinburgh Castle, the centerpiece of the city. It sits on a rocky promontory overlooking much of old Edinburgh. It’s exact date of construction is unknown, but it may go back to the 12th century, and human habitation on Castle Rock dates to the 2nd century AD. It was the site of numerous military sieges from the Middle Ages until the 1745 Jacobite rising. Kings and queens, royal intrigue, crown jewels…you name it. I refer you to Wikipedia for a full history.
I walked all around the perimeter of the castle, and up to the front entrance, but the heat and locusts (tourists) made things too claustrophobic, so I declined joining a tour.
Instead, I was drawn toward a threatening looking man standing in a café doorway, just down from a makeshift stadium in the castle esplanade. He had a shaved head, was clothed entirely in black, and had muscles on top of tattoos on top of muscles. I walked up to him and joked that he must be the Castle bouncer. But he said (in thick Cockney) that he was security for a concert later that evening. I asked who was playing.
“Paul Weller? Yeah, I love him! The Jam and Style Council!”
“Ass roit, mate. Stoyle Cancel.”
I couldn’t believe an ex-punk rocker was performing in a collapsible stadium sandwiched between a former church (now ticket office) and the Edinburgh Castle gates. But I guess that’s life in the 21st century. I later asked about tickets. There were only six left, priced at 60 pounds apiece. It was time to move on.
I left the locust swarm in Old Town and strolled downhill, away from Castle Rock, across several blocks to 136 Lothian Road. The premises are now occupied by a pastry shop, but in the early Sixties it was The Howff, one of the top folk clubs in Great Britain. Pete Seeger, Brownie McGee, and Archie Fisher played here, and Bert Jansch had a regular residency.
Jansch is an acoustic guitar legend, a Scotsman, and one of my musical heroes—he directly influenced Neil Young, Jimmy Page (Led Zeppelin), Nick Drake, Al Stewart, Donovan, and many others—so it was cool to see the place where he first earned a reputation. My side trip here might strike some as strange, but little musical connections like this always get my juices flowing. (Wait till I discuss my trip to Liverpool.) Besides, I got to see a quieter side of Edinburgh that most tourists never see.
My search for an oasis in the locust swarm took me to St. Cuthbert’s Church, at the foot of Castle Rock. This quiet cathedral may date to 850 A.D., which makes it the oldest building in Edinburgh. The burial ground here is filled with noteworthy Scotsmen and women, and, since real estate is at a premium here, some are buried under more “important” people’s tombs (monuments). Hey, just like life!
I climbed back onto Princes Street, then crossed George Street to a tunnel-like lane called Young Street. Here, far from the madding crowd, a cool breeze pulled me along, past discreet shops and businesses that one would overlook if not for a modest plaque mounted next to a narrow doorway. I expected any second to see a Scottish version of Scrooge, Marley, or Cratchit emerging.
I was half-tempted to wet my whistle in the scrunched The “Oxford” Bar (the quote marks are part of the name). It’s a pub established in 1811, made famous in Scottish writer Ian Rankin’s Inspector Rebus series of novels…which I also haven’t read. It’s also a hangout for Edinburgh policemen—and secret agents, since Sean Connery supposedly quaffs here (although I wonder how many Scottish pubs make this same claim). But I had a mild headache from the whiskey and Brewdog Punk IPA that I’d earlier tipped on High Street in Old Town, so I kept “strolling down the highway.”
In my next installment, I’ll conclude the rest of my Edinburgh visit, discussing High Street, aka The Royal Mile, and the World’s End…which is Close.
16 thoughts on “An Ohio Yankee in Sir Walter Scott’s Court”
Great stuff, Pete. Love the photos of the grandkids and the various connections to Scots ancestors. Catching Paul Weller is the icing on the cake. Ten years ago, we spent two weeks in Scotland tracing my roots around County Fife villages in the east, and explored Isle of Mull and Isle of Skye in the west. It’s a magical land. Next month, we are heading to Ireland to explore Dublin, Galway and Dingle Peninsula. Our daughter just finished grad school in Dublin, and she absolutely loves it there. I’ll close with a book recommendation: “Born Fighting” by James Webb. You will really enjoy this.
I’ll check out that Webb book. The title is intriguing. Both Ireland and Scotland have a lot of violent history (much of it related to England!). That’s cool that your daughter got to study in Dublin. What a great experience. And have a great visit to Ireland, yourself! My own daughter (The Wanderer) has been to Ireland and said Galway was her favorite place.
Peter, it’s a great country; we honeymooned there in ’72, when prices weren’t so high. The sun set every night in June around 11pm. Spent most of our time in Peebleshire, which stretches from Hamilton to Edinburgh, driving a little Mini Cooper. Most memorable event: being stuck on a bridge as a herdsman drove his cows across. The plodding bovines brushed up both sides of our little car, rocking it sideways, and cleaning it of all the mud. Another memory: early one morning while the dew was still thick on the grass, we watched and listened while a lone piper strolled up and down his yard practicing. It was a timeless moment. I recommend the trip to anyone.
I had a similar experience hiking a narrow road near Loch Lomond, except instead of cows, I had giant tractors pushing me against the briars. They have to conserve space in those isles. Your piper story must be a special memory for you. A lone piper in his yard at dawn is MUCH better than hired tourist entertainment outside an Edinburgh tavern…you got the real deal, Phil.
Morning, Pete. Glad to read that you had a good trip.
Cullen Skink rules!
Boy, that was tasty. I’ll have more of your cuisine recommendations next post.
Fascinating tour, Pete! If I could travel, Scotland is where I would go; I had ancestors there too. But like you I’ve never read Ivanhoe, though I have read Mad Magazine. We did have a kitty named Cullen! Looking forward to your next post about the trip.
Thanks, Catwoods. Scotland was great. I tried to tilt my post in a somewhat “longitudinal” direction and make it unique to my thinking and interests, since so many travel pieces seem to follow the same script (“We ate this, saw that…”). Glad you liked it…more to come!
Haven’t read all your excellent post as I am at work but I agree with your classification of Glasgow v Edinburgh. I just got back from a five week trip there too and I got a photo of the Worlds End Close sign too! I giggled to myself glad someone else find it amusing! I stayed in a place right over the Royal Mile in the Old Assembly Close. Like you, I was overwhelmed by the tourists (even though I was adding to their numbers). I wrote a post on my blog about it (https://oldchookenterprises.com). Totally loved Scotland though!
Yes, I remember reading your eye-opening essay. Even though I was in Edinburgh only one day, and enjoyed the city overall, I did notice some “things.” (Then again, I’m more sensitive to those “things” than most folks!) Yeah, the Worlds End Close! I’ll touch on that in part 2. Thanks!
I’m glad you enjoyed your stay in Scotland! It’s always interesting to read someone else’s take on the country.
I didn’t get a very good perspective on Glasgow, but plan to rectify that next visit. If you ever visit the states (or have visited), would love to get your take on our county. Cheers!
Oh, I have visited a lot! Check out the Categories on my blog’s sidebar to see where.
Enjoyed every word. You crammed in a lot. The wee ones sound like they’re in a good place.Like you music references. I have lots of questions and thoughts that you stirred up but the main one is being a confirmed off the beaten track guy (like CB) was there enough to hold your interest and keep you interested? I think we are both history guys also, so I would guess there was lots to keep Pete on his toes. Looking forward to the next installment.
Yes, there was enough to keep my interest, CB. I’ll elaborate a little on Old Town, the big tourist draw, next time. But like I indicate with my side trips to Lothian Road and Young Street, there’s more to the city than just the area around the train station. And you could probably say that about ANY city. I wonder how many tourists venture to the Firth of Forth? I think one needs at least a few days in a city to really absorb it properly.
Yes to a lot of those things.