Reunited again and miscellany

I learned last night that my suitcase and I will be reunited today, Jan 4. Less than a week since we were separated. I'm very excited that my suitcase isn't lost and I'm anxious to see if there is anything missing.

Since I've been back, I've been asked a number of times about high points in my trip and that's been really hard to answer. I have the low point--getting lost in the rain while trying to find my hotel. Not the worst low point one could have and not a really big deal. The fact is that I had great weather, I got to chat with a lot of really nice people, and I saw some spectacular countryside.

Several of my colleagues asked me if I met any hot men. I met three charming men at the College of Piping in Glasgow with whom I laughed and talked about learning how to play the bagpipes. "Ah lassie, if this dafty boy can learn to play, anyone can." I talked with a university student in Glasgow when he admired my journal and asked where I got it. We talked a few minutes about writing. I chatted with a couple of men--one totally hot--at Jocks in Kinross who were dressed in full formal kilt kits. I did not ask The Question, but was suitably impressed if they were true Scotsman on a night when the temp was below freezing. One looked like an American football fullback and the other like a more typical UK soccer player. He was the hot one, by the way, and I liked that his shirt was the kind that had the leather lacing at the neck. I talked with several folks at pubs. As I mentioned in one entry, opening my map was an invitation for people to talk to me, but many weren't shy about asking where I hailed from when they heard my funny accent.

In the pubs it was quite clear that soccer is The Sport, though rugby comes in at second. Cricket is not the sport of the working class and many of the pub folks were derisive about cricket. I'd watched a bit of cricket over the Christmas weekend and was totally baffled by the sport that can take days to play.

I think I may have mentioned that it's quite evident there is no FCC in the UK. I wasn't shocked by language I heard on TV or radio, but I was surprised because we simply aren't accustomed to hearing such words except on satellite or cable. No one worries about getting bleeped and no one worries about the digital fuzzing if anything intimate is showing.

I wasn't surprised when I saw that most of the kids, regardless of the part of the country, with earbuds. I thought it funny to see groups of kids walking together, each with earbuds and wondered if they were all listening to the same thing or different stuff, and wondering if they ever talked to each other.

There were a couple of stories about "yobbish" behavior and the police establishing respect zones. Apparently there are a lot of kids running around throwing bricks or rocks through car windows and stealing stuff, or just being generally destructive. I thought it interesting that they would try to establish zones of respect: You have entered the Respect Zone. You must be respectful at all times while in this zone. You can behave like an animal otherwise?

There were also some stories in the newspapers about concerns about plagiarism because kids were making use of technology, but also concerns about teaching to the tests. Fascinating to read about those kinds of educational issues as though they are just surfacing. But because the educational system is so different in the UK and because some of the parts of Scotland I visited are clearly not very wired, it's entirely possible that the kinds of concerns we've been confronting for a while are just beginning to surface there. I just thought it interesting to juxtapose some of the educational issues with the respect zone stories; there's something intriguing about that, but maybe just to me.

A few more notes about UK TV. I'd always thought the BBC was this incredible bastion of reporting. Perhaps it is and I just didn't see the real deal. BBC Breakfast on BBC1 was interesting because the male co-anchor always wore a suit and tie while the female co-anchor was considerably more stylishly dressed, but doing a bit more than being eye candy. Not much more though. But if there was a 30-minute news show--and, by the way, shows didn't start on the hour and half-hour as they usually do in the US. One show started at something like 7:38. Anyway, if there was a news show of some length, they zip through the news with short sound bites--maybe 60 or 90 seconds, scoot through the weather (It'll be windy and frosty in the Highlands again this morning), and then to Sports, the real news. Then again, there are several Scottish daily and several UK dailies, so maybe that's an indicator that more people in the UK still read their news in a paper rather than watch it on TV.

Well, at least we speak the same language. Sort of.

Cheers.

Random notes

In the villages, it's hard to get much more on TV than BBC1, BBC2, ITV, five, and several Sky channels, which seem to be mostly sport. At the Ramada in Glasgow, there was digital or dish access because there were several more channels, though not nearly the number in the US. I'd seen Strictly Come Dancing while I was at Kincraig House, the British version of Dancing with the Stars. Jeremy Kyle is a sort of Jerry Springer/Dr. Phil talk show host, but no bouncers.

All the women in Glasgow seemed to wear their winter scarves identically.

Signs caution against "drink drivers" rather than "drunk drivers." Potato chips are crisps and they come in the most unusual flavors--prawn cocktail, lamb and mint, roast chicken. Blech. There are "sweet and savoury" shops so you can buy sweets of mince pies (I'm not sure I'd categorize that as a sweet), shorties, cakes (muffins), tarts and more, or you can buy a savoury like a sausage roll or a toastie.

Wherever there are road signs for men working, there are inevitably "Queues likely" signs and signs apologizing (apologising) for the inconvenience.

The mail trucks are little panel trucks, not really minivans. They are red with yellow lettering--Royal Mail.

As of Jan 2, my luggage has not yet returned to me. I went to O'Hare on Jan 1 just to talk with a human being who explained to me that baggage is always a nightmare at Heathrow during the holidays. "Excess" luggage is always put on the last flight of the day, but it's rare they can send more than a few bags because of weight restrictions. And they try to send the non-US resident/visitor bags first because the rest of us are home and can more easily get replacements or have options. Still, would love to have the rest of my pictures and my souvenirs.

When I've got everything back and developed, I'll be posting photos at www.kodakgallery.com. I'll post more information when the rest of the photos are up and ready for viewing.

12:29: Heading home

Heathrow. That was the closest I was going to get to London, and was a shocking cacaphony of sound and light and languages, especially after the relative quiet of the Scottish countryside. Lots of shopping opportunities in Heathrow.

I got tea and a muffin Heathrow and then did laps in the airport as I waited for my flight; I had nearly 2 hours. We finally boarded the 777 to head home to Chicago. I had a nice left aisle seat in business class (!!) with no one on my right. A most pleasant return flight. . . in spite of the announcement 40 minutes out of Chicago that there had been a baggage belt problem at Heathrow and some of us weren't getting our luggage. Fortunately for me, I was heading home. I felt badly for those who were arriving in Chicago for a holiday. Sure enough, I was one of the lucky ones whose luggage remained in London. Made it quick and easy to get through Customs.

As I left most of the villages or towns most anywhere in Scotland, there was almost always the message "Thanks for driving carefully." But in the Highlands, the phrase that was on many of the signs was "Haste ye back." I'd like to, most definitely.

12.28: On the bonny shores of Loch Lomond

I had breakfast around 9A at The Hotel Stewart. The "landlady" fed Reggie, the resident Indian Blue peacock. He makes dreadful sounds--you'd think a bird that lovely could make lovelier sounds. The previous hotel owner had had 5 peacocks. They know that 2 were fox food, but aren't sure what happened to the other 2. Reggie was a bit poorly when they first took over the hotel, but he has regrown his tail feathers and is quite spritely now. They had bought two peahens for him, but they literally flew the coop. Fortunately, the hotel owners know where the peahens have gone and will go fetch them in the spring. The landlady and I chatted a bit more--I think she's quite lonely--and then I was on the road again.

First I headed south a bit to the Castle View Cafe, which was closed, but has lovely view of a castle ruin. The sky was mostly clear that morning and it was very very cold.

Then I headed north back to Ballachulish. I stopped several times to take pictures. It took me over 2 hours to get past Glencoe, probably a total of about 30 miles. The roads were narrow and winding, but with a clear blue sky, every turn seemed like another post card shot. I walked a bit in a few places, but the wind was fierce and the temps below freezing.

In the higher altitudes, between Clachaig and Altnafeadh, there was light snow on the ground. Actually, there was light snow nearly to Bridge of Orchy. I'd planned to stop to do a 3.5-mile hike near Bridge of Orchy, but the weather was getting dodgy and I didn't want to get lost at Glasgow Airport at rush hour. Still, I stopped several more times because the area is just too beautiful.

On down to Tyndrum through Crianlurich and then along the shores of Loch Lomond. The clouds had moved in low and it was raining lightly as I drove through Inveruglas to Inverbeg to Dunbarton where I reached the outskirts of Glasgow. And then the look and feel of the place changed dramatically.

I stopped at a BP Connect in Paisley, complete with a version of the Wild Bean Cafe. Made me laugh.

I managed to find my way to Thrifty after a few extra laps of a roundabout or two. No problems with the car and then to the Ramada. . . and an elevator!! After I checked in, I took the hotel shuttle to the airport to take the bus to Glasgow. It was damp and drizzly, but okay for walking. I did several laps up and down and around Buchanan Street and the city centre before ending up, once again, at the Caffe Nero.

My big decision that night was dinner, but the city pubs are not as welcoming as the village pubs, so I gave up on once last dinner of bangers and mash and went back to the hotel for dinner. I also wanted to hang on to my last 12 pounds, just in case I needed or wanted money at the airport. I reviewed my packing one more time before going to bed with my alarms set for 4A for a 7:35A flight.

12.27: Argyll

I was on the road around 9:30A and headed south on A82 toward Fort Augustus and Fort William. The distance was relatively short, so I knew I'd have to make as many stops as I wanted. It was a bit overcast as I left and the forecast was for rain in the afternoon; it would be my first day of rain while in Scotland.

I stopped again at the shop in Loch Ness, but there wasn't anything there I couldn't live without so I headed on to Urquhart Castle to do the tour. There is an 8-minute film that gives the history of the castle and is really well done. The castle began as a Pict stronghold until the arrival of Saint Columba in the 6th century when the Pict chieftain was converted to Christianity. The castle was in the possession of Edward I for a period of time and then, depending on the political situation, it was and was not royal property until the early 1500s when it was given to the Clan Grant. Then there is quite a story of the castle being captured by different groups until the 1690s when the Clan Grant set fire to the castle to prevent it from becoming a Jacobite stronghold. The castle does have impressive views of Loch Ness.

Then I was on the road to Fort Augustus, which is bisected by the Caledonian Canal. It's a total of 60 miles in length, 38 of which are along 3 lochs, one of which is Loch Ness. It was a pretty little town.

Back on the road to Fort William, but I didn't stop. It was a lot darker and starting to rain. I continued south through North Ballachulish and along Loch Linnhe with the Glen Duror forest on the left, through Appin to Oban. Oban is listed as the Gateway to the Isles, but there are several ways to get to the western isles, depending on which might be the destination.

It was raining quite hard by the time I got to Oban and I drove around and around for about 40 minutes trying to find my hotel. The directions led me to a shopping center--Tesco seems a lot like a SuperTarget. I finally gave up backtracking and trying to figure it out by the maps, but I couldn't figure out how to make a local UK call to get directions from the hotelier, no doubt operator error (me). Then I asked a woman if she knew the hotel and she told me it was back 30 miles north. I'd seen a Hotel Stewart as I drove down, but figured there was likely to be more than one in Scotland. I figured wrong.

Back up through Duror on the narrow bendy roads and in the rain. The Hotel Stewart is an old manse to which someone added about 20 rooms in what looks like prefab materials. Kind of dorky looking. Ugly, actually. The folks who run the place are pleasant enough--transplants from London about a year ago. That night was their first night open since the Christmas holidays. The only guests were me and a couple, though they were expecting a large group on 12/28 and to stay through 1/3.

I had dinner in the bar (venison curry; it was pretty good, and a McEwan's) then went up to my room to repack my suitcase for the last trek. I cranked up the heat as high as it would go as I'd been told it would go off that night but come back on in the morning. I put on extra togs for bed as the heat went off at 10:30P and the room chilled quickly. It was a long cold night.

12.26: Boxing Day in the Highlands

I'd been warned that a lot of things would be closed on 12/26 because it was Boxing Day. Most people I asked weren't quite sure about the history or meaning of the day, but it's the day after Christmas and many shops are typically closed. However, this year Boxing Day was a lot like Black Friday in the States as there were incredible sales in shops. The folks on BBC were suggesting that this year's sales on Boxing Day may start a new trend in the UK.

I had breakfast at The Kincraig House around 8:30A, then went up to gather my things for my day's exploration. When I arrived on 12/24 and returned on 12/25, I felt as though I had to sneak up the main stairs in my tromping togs as folks in the lounge were so dressed up. I felt slightly less conspicuous on 12/26 as there were fewer people around. A lot of people were checking out that morning, including Jen and Malcolm. I saw them in the dining room when I went back down, so was able to give them each a hug and wish them "Happy New Year." I gave Jen my business card and told her to give me a call if they're ever in the Chicago area. They've bought a timeshare from Jen's father near Orlando, so perhaps we'll connect some time in Florida.

Then off to Golspie, which was a dreary little town on a dreary day. But I stopped at the newsagent and bought a couple of papers. I noticed the street signs were in English and Gaelic, so took a picture of one that also sported a Coke can which, for some reason, amused me. I went back down the A9 to A839 to Lairg where I saw frost on the trees in a distance. There wasn't much in that town, but I bought a few more papers so I could compare them. The headlines included news of the death of James Brown and I'd remembered that I'd heard Fiona Bruce on BBC Scotland on Sundy talking about what was in the papers and how different papers reported different stories. From Lairg I went to Shin Falls and traveled through some lovely country. I found a phone box at a corner, but seemingly in the middle of nowhere because it was not on a major A road and the road going off to the left had no number at all.

Shin Falls was quite lovely, but the long walk was closed. Scotland had had about three straight weeks of rain so there had been a lot of flooding in many areas. The ground is so saturated that trees have been falling over, so there's been a lot of forestry work to clear roads and make various areas passable and safe. I passed a field that had a boat in it and a dummy dressed and set up to look like it was fishing. The road to Shin Falls is a single track road, so there were passing places along the way. The rule seemed to be that whichever driver had the passing place on his or her side of the road was to pull into the passing place and let the oncoming driver proceed, unless the oncoming driver flashed his or her high beams to indicate that driver was yielding the right of way. Very congenial.

I then took A837 toward Rosehall, another single track road in the foothills, which was a bit more challenging. But I stopped at Ravens Gorge and did the gorge walk, which was very soggy, but very nice. There were just two paths there, though one was about 1.5 miles. It was a nice loop through the gorge and some really green, rich forest.

I thought about driving to Lochniver on the far west coast, but I wasn't sure I would find an open petrol station and I was just under a quarter of a tank. So I went back out to Tarbat Ness and the lighthouse. I was glad I did because there was a wonderful short tromp along the headlands and a great view of the North Sea.

Then back to Kincraig House to clean up before dinner in the bar--just a few of us at the hotel that night, so it was more casual. Most definitely a good visit in The Highlands.

12.25: Christmas Day in the Highlands

I was up and out around 9:30A on Christmas Day. It was a lovely clear and very cold day. I headed further north on A9 and wandered along some of the unmarked and B roads. I ended up in Portmahomack, which is a small fishing town. I got out of the car and walked along the frozen beach, complete with a light dusting of snow! I was headed towards the headland to go find the lighthouse, but was cut off by fences. There wasn't much else to explore in Portmahomack, so I got back in the car to look for Tarbat Ness (and I learned that "ness" is Norse for "promontory").

I parked at the Tarbat Discovery Center which has information about the Picts because of the remains of Pictish abbey there. There is a stone commemorating the people of Tarbat, Tain, and the surrounding areas who evacuated to enable a critical staging for the Battle of Normandy. That was very cool.

The bricks in the parking lot were really slick, so I slid my way across them--decided I was practicing for sliding on the ice at curling--to get to the road. But the road was also icy which made walking a challenge. I was trying to get to the lighthouse which was supposed to be about 3 miles from the Discovery Center, but walking was hard--it was like there was a thin sheet of ice on the blacktop and, of course, little or no traffic. I was able to walk a little better in the middle of the road, but had to be careful moving to the side (right side to face oncoming traffic) to yield to the occasional car. I passed the Tarbat Ness Golf Club and took a picture of one of the tees which was backgrounded, at that angle, by a castle out in the fields. It just seemed so odd to me though golf is a passion in Scotland and is historic there, so the golf tee and castle really isn't anachronistic in Scotland. Still, it made me giggle.

In spite of the slipping and sliding along the road, I enjoyed myself because the weather was so incredible gorgeous. I didn't make it the full 3 miles, though I was probably only a quarter mile short. I was getting really tired, though, because of the slipping and sliding while trying to remain upright in the form of walking, and needed to get back to get cleaned up for lunch.

I had enough time to get changed ("smart dress," not jeans) and went to the lounge at 2:30P (or "half two") to meet Jen and Malcolm. We had tea while we chatted and waited for our table. We took our time going through the courses--appetizers (brie with some new cuisine setup), soup (tomato and red pepper bisque; not my fave), "traditional" turkey dinner, and Christmas pudding (bread pudding, with raisins, and a warm maple sauce). Then to the bar for tea, and then to the lounge to relax and chat with other guests.

We were joined by Don and Audrey and he told wonderful stories about their shop in Golspie (goal-spee) just a bit north of Tain on A9 and how the town had changed. He's 74 and quite lively. She's probably right close to that and much quieter though with several interjections during his stories ("Oh, that's right, lovey; I'd forgotten). She was the chemist at their shop and he managed the rest of it. They were delighted to be pensioners and travel a bit, and they went to Kincraig House every Christmas. They are the owners of the Smart ForTwo in the parking lot. She wanted a smaller car because she wants to start driving again.

The hotel staff presented us with a "light" buffet dinner around 7:30P. It was certainly more than what I would call "light"--some appetizer leftovers from lunch, potato salad, chicken drumsticks and wings baked in a sort of honey glaze, small quiches, cheeses, crackers, and more. There were also desserts, of course, and those were excellent! All in all, another very delightful day.

12.24: On the road to the Highlands

I left Banchory around 8:30A, which was a fairly common departure time for me. There was a lot of frost on the car, but little traffic on Christmas Eve morning and not much fog. Looked as though it was going to be a clear morning.

I took A980 toward Alford and stopped at Craigevar Castle. Then back on the road; I took A944 to Mossatt then A97 through Kildrummy and Strathdon and once again in the Grampian Mountains. Then A939 to Tomintoul ("two-man-toe") which was a town recommended by the bartender at the Burnett Arms. Alas, the "famous" Scotch place was closed due to family illness and renovation. Still, I parked the car and wandered around the town a bit. I went in to The Highland Market which was just across the way from the Toumintoul Scotch Corner; The Whiskey Castle was next to the market. It was just after 11A when I got there, and the proprietor and I chatted a bit about the weather, about tourists, about New Year's, and about why he couldn't sell whiskey until after 12:30P on Sunday.

He also told me that he'd heard a statistic that 83% of Scots don't believe in any thing, and he added that he thought there would be fewer wars if there was no religion. I laughed and told him that humanity would find something else to fight about. I didn't want to hang around Toumintoul for over an hour just to buy whiskey, so I was back on the road and headed toward Grantown-on-Spey, in the heart of Whiskey Country. From Grantown-on-Spey I took A95 toward Duinlan Bridge to A938 to A9. A lot of that area is part of The Glenlivet Estate, also simply known as The Glenlivet, which is huge. I stopped somewhere along the way and took a bit of a walk, but then back in the car to Inverness.

I managed to misdirect myself in Inverness and headed south on A82 along the shores of Loch Ness. It was still light and a reasonably clear day, so I stopped to take a few pictures, but then drove a bit further and found a nice little souvenir shop where I did a wee bit of shopping. I kept going down the road until I reached Urquhart ("Urkurt") Castle. It was then I realized I'd gone too far south. It was mid-afternoon so I got a few nice shots of the castle from up above because touring the ruins requires a ticket and some time. I had the former but not the latter and I knew I'd be traveling that way again in a few days. I headed back up A82 to and through Inverness and found my way to the A9 again, across a bridge over Moray Firth, and on up through Allness to Invergordon and The Kincraig House.

I arrived around 4:30P and was offered a glass of sherry or wine as I checked in. I was shown to my room--still no lift, but someone to help carry the big ol' suitcase up the stairs--after I made my booking for Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day lunch. I had plenty of time to get cleaned up before my dinner reservation at 7P.

Christmas Eve dinner was a moderately formal affair, so I got dressed up (stocking and heels!) for the first time in days. I went downstairs to the lounge, which had a fire in the granite fireplace and has big comfy couches and leather chairs, to sit and relax with a glass of wine before dinner. The gentleman who was, in effect, the maitre d was wearing a tux and red bow tie. Dinner was an elegant affair--starter, soup, main course, and dessert. The food was quite excellent. Press coffee, too, though I threw them off by wanting my coffee with my dessert.

I realized one of the servers did not have a Scottish or English accent and we chatted briefly after dinner. She and her husband, who is one of the chefs, are Canadian. They're from Ontario and hope to return some day to open a fish camp. That will a long long way from The Kincraig House.

I sat in the bar after dinner, finished my coffee and enjoyed the fire there. Others came in, chatting quietly, formal sort of tension. I'd gotten the occasional sidelong glance during dinner, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself. After a bit I went out to get my sneakers (trainers) from the car and exchanged comments about the velvet black sky and stars with a gentleman who was taking a cigarette break. He invited me to join him and his wife for drinks, which I did.

There were others in the bar who chatted more freely once I was no longer a singleton, though Jen is quite a friendly woman. She, Malcolm, and I stayed up and talked and laughed until almost 1A. They and I had 3P lunch times, so she invited me to sit with them at lunch. I agreed. We wished the staff a "Merry Christmas" and left so they could finally clean up and go home themselves. Fortunately, most of them live very close by. It was an absolutely wonderful wonderful day.

12.23: Aberdeen and castle country

I wasn't that interested in touring a big city, but I drove to Aberdeen so I could say I'd been. I drove around the University of Aberdeen--I can't quite resist being on a university campus--and then drove to a car park to wander a bit to see some of the granite buildings for which Aberdeen is famous.

On the way back to Banchory, I went to Drum Castle. I drove up the wrong road to a farm and bothered a sheep dog--the herding kind of sheep dog, also known as a Border Collie, I think--, but was able to find my way to the car park at the back of the castle. I wandered around the paths on the castle estate; there is a flower garden that must be gorgeous in the spring. then back up the road and through the forest that is the last remaining bit of what was declared royal forest in the 12th century. The rest is now commercially or privately owned property. It was quite nice to tromp through the area.

A woman was walking her black labrador and the dog really wanted to come close, but seemed scared of me. She encouraged him to say hello, but then he started barking and bouncing like he wanted to play. She told him not to be "dafty" and I wondered if I smelled different, if it had something to do with my accent, or if it was my yellow jacket because she insisted he wasn't usually "such a souk."

I drove to Crathes Castle where the grounds are quite extensive. I walked the mile from the gate to the castle and then meandered around some of the paths. Like so many of the castle estates, the grounds and paths are open to the public year-round and the people in the area certainly seem to take advantage of that. There were a number of people there with their dogs, again, unleashed and very well trained. I did see a few runners on some of the paths, but it was rare to see runners at all. Even then, many of them were in T-shirts and shorts--no fancy running gear except their shoes.

Crathes is a large castle and estate owned by the National Trust for Scotland. There are shops on the estate--tea and gift, but there are some other things for the public for sight-seeing and entertainment.

I headed back to Banchory and did a little grocery shopping (found Diet Coke with lime!), bought a couple of books by Scottish authors, and got my laundry. I went back to my room, packed some things for lunch, and then off to Braemar in the Grampian Mountains. I saw snow on the mountains and had a beautiful drive along the River Dee.

Braemar itself was a bit disappointing; the castle is privately owned so it's not possible to tour it except in the summer. I stopped for petrol on the way back: 88.9 pence per liter of 20 pounds for half a tank. That was about $40 with the exchange rate. A liter is .22 gallons, so 1 gallon is 4.545 liters. Yep, petrol is expensive in Scotland.

I stopped at Campus o' May, just a signpost I saw on the way back, and did some lovely tromping there. Again, there were a number of marked paths, so it was easy not to get lost. It was starting to get really cold again and the wooden bridge was icy, so that in addition to growing darkness made it time to go home.

Had dinner at the Burnett Arms again. I noticed a group of men with their pints who then ordered dinner and a bottle of red wine. They had their wine with their dinner, though the occasional sip from their pints as well. I'd seen that "mix" of wine and beer before, but thought it something of an anomaly. But I've seen it several times, so perhaps this isn't a big deal in Scotland.

I talked with the bartender for a while. We were talking about the chaos the night before, about traveling, about the area, and she made some great recommendations of places to stop on my way to Inverness. On to the Highlands!

12.22: On the road to Banchory

I took the hill roads to get to Banchory. I drove through Kirriemuir to the birthplace of J.M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan. It is a beautiful little village as so many of them are. Some are quaint, some are charming, some are rather grim. Lots of stone and brick in them all. The more contemporary grey stucco look is really grim, at least in winter. Perhaps it is more pleasant in spring and summer.

I still can't get over how narrow the streets are and how drivers figure out who yields to whom. It is more challenging--as in heart-stopping--on a tight curve with a truck. I made such a turn on a slight downhill and almost got up close and personal with a Foster's truck. I couldn't see around the truck, but was flagged when it was clear. Aggressive drivers, but somewhat polite. The hill roads were also very narrow, so I was delighted to be mostly alone on the roads. Traffic seems to take the middle of the road unless there's oncoming, and I can understand why.

The distance from Kinross to Banchory isn't all that great, but I stopped a number of times along the way to walk a bit or to take pictures or just enjoy the view, so it took me several hours. Banchory is another small town. The restaurant/pub at the Burnett Arms, where I had a booking, is very popular. I walked around the town a bit and explored along the shores of the River Dee there. Banchory is considered the center of castle country, so I was able to map out a number of castles to visit the next day. I'd planned for this day to be a laundry stop, but laundromats are not common. I was able, though, to take my "bag wash" to the dry cleaners and for a reasonable price. I just had to pick it up before 2P on the following day as they were closing for the holidays.

I had dinner at the restaurant/pub at the Burnett Arms and there was a loud, lively group--Friday night and before a long holiday weekend. There were a lot of soccer matches over the weekend, and apparently pretty important stuff, so there were heated discussions about football, but also a great deal of laughter.

I'd opened my map to figure out where I'd been and where I was going and two chaps joined me to talk about Banchory being the best place in the world to live, about their glory days in soccer leagues when they were young, their work with the forestry service, their uncertainty about where Illinois might be, about the best players on soccer teams in the UK, about why coaches of UK soccer teams should be from the UK and not elsewhere, and then some other stuff about soccer because I got kind of lost. The faster they talked, the more pronounced the accent, the louder the volume. One of the guys kept turning to me to ask if I understood--I think he wanted to be sure I understood about soccer as I think there is some sort of penalty or fine for not knowing about soccer. Not really, but that's how passionate they are about the sport.

I left the pub around 11P, but they continued to talk and drink and laugh until the wee hours. By the way, in July 2006, Scotland passed a law that there is no smoking in any public place. Period. So every pub and every restaurant and every bar is smoke-free. That was wonderful.