"The battle belonged that morning to the thin, wet line of khaki that dragged itself ashore on the channel coast of France" - General Omar N. Bradley
So you may think that being the daughter of a History Teacher is the reason I decided to visit Normandy - and more specifically, Omaha Beach. The sight of the American D-Day invasion. You would be partially right in that assumption. The full reason; however, is that my grandfather and both great uncles all fought in WWII. It is difficult to imagine today, how mothers and families felt - sending all 3 sons off to a war of that magnitude. Having Bill in Iraq almost killed my Mom (I don't use that term lightly) - she genuinely aged at least 10 years in the months that he was away. She gained an entirely new perspective on what her grandmother and mother experienced during the early 1940's. Thankfully, all 3 returned home with only "minor" injuries. My grandfather had a building fall on him in China which shattered his ankle - but they all came home unlike so many others.
When I trekked down to Austin in 2008 to visit my friend Keith, and to squeeze in a family visit with my "Uncle" (this is actually Great-Uncle), I was genuinely surprised to hear that my Uncle Mike stormed the beaches of Normandy. How had I never heard this from Mom?! I had only ever heard about Paw-Paw and Iran and China! He didn't talk much about it at our lunch - but this seems to be typical of that generation. They are not about bragging - they just did what needed to be done. They fought for a "cause" not a "conquest". When I decided to go on this trip - I knew I wanted to go to the Brittany and Normandy coasts - they are the lesser visited parts of France (and definitely less crowded...which suits me perfectly!). A place where history was made and where America took its place as the world's Leader.
After spending the night in Caen - "Can"- I set out the next morning planning to meander along the coastline. I knew my various destinations, but I was determined to stay off the motorways and stick to the back-roads. This was a good decision (as it usually is...). I was treated to the early morning sight of wheat fields, suffused in golden light with a gentle mist hovering over them. In other words - picture perfect French countryside. I decided to roll my windows down to smell the cool, early morning air....but immediately rolled them right back up again after being assaulted with "cow smell". It doesn't matter that they were French cows....cows smell like cows and there is nothing romantic about it!
I continued along, passing through the town that "houses" Juno Beach - the sight of the Canadian landing. I was on a mission for St. Laurent sur Mer - or more famously....Omaha Beach. Regardless if you choose to hate the French, one has to give them credit for clearly marking all their historic sites with big brown signs that have a picture of what you will see on them. This was true for Omaha Beach - it receives a lot of attention there and is given its due.
I started to get teary in the car just thinking about what had happened on this Beach - and I wasn't even there yet!! I hadn't seen a thing. I did think about a program I like to watch on Sundays called "Fareed Zakaria - GPS" - check it out on CNN if you've never seen it. Fareed is the Global editor of Newsweek, has some of the world's leading statesmen and individuals on his show, has written a book that both Bill and I have read called "The Post-American World" - and is just an overall, smarty-pants badass. Anyways - he likes to ask a question at the end of each of his shows and I've always remembered this one...."What is the greatest strategic blunder in Modern History?" I know you could go in many different directions with this question - and that is probably the idea. Mom and I got on the phone after watching this episode and came up with the answer (which I submitted on his website) - "The US's failure to make provisions for the Palestinians upon the recognition of Israel in 1948". We thought that one was pretty good. We tuned in the following week to see what the "answer" would be - would our names be read out?? No, our "blunder" was not selected as the "greatest" This was....."The Japanese's underestimation of the US's ability to mobilize and enter WWII". Huh - we hadn't even thought of that.
So here I am at St. Laurent sur Mer - approaching the beach....knowing I'm about to view a piece of history meaningful only to a small portion of the world's population. I couldn't decide what order to make my visits that day - the beach, the museum, the cemetery....or - the cemetery, the museum, the beach....or....the museum, the beach, the cemetery?? I decided to let the car do what it wanted to do....I'd just follow along and trust it.
The answer turned out to be 1. The Beach 2. The Museum 3. The Cemetery and 4. Point du Hoc (a surprise visit). I think I did the right thing - I ended up going to the beach twice - once before the museum and once after the cemetery on the way to Point du Hoc.
The Beach is fairly ordinary - save for the fact that there are 2 large monuments there. One leading up to the water of a reddish gold material and a modern statue right on the sand that is silver/aluminum and Modern looking.
The first leading to the beach says...."1st US Infantry Division....No Mission Too Difficult, No Sacrifice Too Great...Duty First. Forced Omaha Beach at Dawn 6 June 1944"
The second statue is called "Les Braves" and was made by Anilore Banon. I heard some people around me say that they didn't like this thing. And I'll admit...It's not wonderful - it's definitely modern, but it does have a certain beauty to it, especially with the gold of the sand, the blue reflection of the sky and the water and the sun sparking upon it. There are 3 elements to it....
1. The Wings of Hope - So that the spirit which carried these men on June 6,1944 continues to inspire us, reminding us that together it is always possible to change the future.
2. Rise Freedom! - So that the example of those who rose against barbarity, help us remain standing strong against all forms of inhumanity.
3. The Wings of Fraternity - So that this surge of brotherhood always reminds us of our responsibility towards others as well as ourselves. On June 6, 1944, these men were more than soldiers, they were brothers.
I stayed here for a little bit, marveling that the beach today shows no signs of what took place there in 1944. I don't know if I expected it to - perhaps....
I then went to the museum, which is just up the road from the beach. It's a small museum, but well done. Along one wall, you have a diorama set up with men in uniform, various battle situations and sound effects - the sound of planes flying overhead, bombs exploding and machine-gun fire. Wrapping around the center of the room are glass cases with memorabilia - 20 different kinds of cigarettes, matches, pistols, hats and helmets, guns and knives, sports equipment, writing instruments, eating utensils, etc. As you wrap around, you come to the photographs - my favorite part. I just love looking at these old pictures. They are arranged in chronological order - the days leading up to the invasion, the invasion and the aftermath. So many of these men were incredibly good-looking, smiling for the camera - laying in their bunks with their shirts off, playing cards and just hanging out. Anyone who knows me, knows how viscerally I feel the images of war....I have only really watched Platoon once, Saving Private Ryan (about this invasion) once, Apacolypse Now once...and so forth and so on. The first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan were torture for me. I had my hands on either side of my head in horror, just wanting the mayhem on the screen to stop. And that was just a movie made 50+ years later. Anyways - I hate war movies. Strangely, while I was looking at these pictures of boys who had been blown apart, and pictures of medics evacuating the wounded....."Somewhere Over the Rainbow" started playing in the diorama behind me. Talk about an out of body experience.....
"Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops away above the chimney tops...That's where you'll find me....."
So - for those of you who don't know much about D-Day....here you go...
It was at the Quebec Conference in 1943 that the decision was taken to launch a major landing on continental Europe during the Spring 1944, codenamed "Operation Overlord". The actual assault was codenamed "Operation Neptune". The mass of ships, men, assault vehicles, etc. was the "Largest Armada" the world had ever seen....and it was on its way to liberate Europe.
Contrary to what the German command had been expecting, the site for the attack was not to be the north coast of France, closest to Great Britain, but the beaches along the Seine Estuary. A series of criteria were necessary to determine the precise day and time of the assault.
1. Rommel's defenses had been placed on the beach in such a way to anticipate an attack at high tide. The assault would have to happen midway through the rising tide so that the landing craft would not become snagged on the defensive spikes set up by the Germans - i.e. Mid-Rising Tide
2. For the airborne troops, the mission would require a full moon - i.e. a Dawn preceded by a Full Moon
3. A naval bombardment of the German defenses 45 minutes prior to the landings had to take place in the first light of dawn to be able to pinpoint the targets.
These 3 conditions only occurred on a few days each month. Eisenhower settled on the 5th of June with the option of delaying operations to th 6th or 7th. As it happened, bad weather in the Channel in early June forced Eisenhower to delay the landing from the 5th of June until the 6th by which time the conditions were due to improve....Just prior to the invasion, General Eisenhower transmitted a now-historic message to all members of the Allied Expeditionary Force. It read, in part, "You are about to embark upon the great crusade, toward which we have striven these many months." In his pocket was a statement, never used, to be read in case the invasion failed.
Between 6:30am and 7:30am on June 6th, 1944 - under Lieutenant General Frederick Morgan, the largest amphibious invasion in world history was executed by land, sea and air elements under direct British command with over 160,000 troops landing on beaches codenamed - Sword, Juno, Gold, Omaha and Utah. The British landed at Sword and Gold, the Canadians at Juno and the Americans at Utah and Omaha. "Saving Private Ryan" depicts the landing at Omaha- where the fiercest fighting took place and where Omaha became known as "Bloody Omaha".
At this point in the museum, I was able to watch a video in English...this is what I gleaned from it...
1. These brave men considered themselves lucky to be taking part in this operation - "How lucky we were to be the ones to go on this mission."
2. As the ships approached Omaha, it was dead quiet onboard as the "sun rose over Omaha".
3. At 6:30am, things began to go wrong as the bombs launched from far off Naval destroyers had missed their targets and left the German defenses intact.
4. As the men rushed off the boats, they discovered they were "let off" farther out than anticipated, and loaded down with their heavy gear....many drowned immediately.
5. By 7am, the troops were pinned down on the beaches, with German machine guns raking the shoreline. The next wave was coming ashore but had nowhere to go - they were totally exposed.
5. Of the 16 tanks that landed upon the shores of Omaha Beach only 2 survived the landing. The official record stated that "within 10 minutes of the ramps being lowered, [the leading] company had become inert, leaderless and almost incapable of action. Every officer and sergeant had been killed or wounded.
6. It was only by the sheer determination of these men and the overwhelming numbers that allowed this mission to be successful. The Germans were eventually overrun, the beaches taken and at that point - the Americans could look back at the beach - littered with the carnage of war - and truly appreciate the scale of the mission they had accomplished.
7. The evacuation of the wounded began to take place - again, the largest operation of its kind ever undertaken with evacuation by air used en masse for the first time. Over the next 3 months, 20,000 wounded were air lifted back to England...9,000 in August alone.
8. Immediately, the Allied forces cleared a landing strip and built 2 makeshift harbors....all within ONE WEEK!!!
9. The Battle of Normandy lasted another 3 months, much longer than originally planned by the Allied strategists with July being the blackest month. The British and Canadians were held up outside of Caen (this is where I stayed....it was completely destroyed in WWII) and the Americans were bogged down on the Cotentin- encountering more fierce fighting in what was called "The Battle of the Hedgerows".
10. The success of "Operation Cobra" allowed the Americans to definitively break throughout the enemy defenses and strike out towards Brittany and the Loire - both places I had just come from.
11. At the beginning of August, the failure of the counter-attack ordered by Hitler led to the retreat of the German forces, threatened with encirclement and almost wiped out in the Falaise-Pocket at the end of the month.
During the video - I also learned about another successful mission by American Rangers at La Pointe du Hoc. This was a strategic point held by the Germans that looked out over Utah Beach to the West and Omaha Beach to the East - it was thought critical to take out the heavy artillery held here. A group of 225 specially trained Rangers, commanded by Colonel J.E. Rudder were tasked with scaling these huge, 100 ft. slippery cliffs with specifically designed climbing gear - fitted ladders and grabs. The Rangers were supposed to begin scaling the cliffs at 5:30am - before the D-Day assault- but they were dropped far off course and had to trek 3 miles to reach their destination. By this time, they had lost the element of surprise and had to scale the cliffs with not only Germans firing machine guns down at them, but the Germans cutting their ropes. Still, the Rangers kept climbing and kept climbing. Failure was just not an option. When they breached the cliff, they discovered that there were no cannons - only wooden logs - the Germans had moved them. The fighting continued as the Germans were hidden deep within bombed-out crater holes (still there...but with a sign advising you NOT to venture down into these holes....I did anyways). Over the ensuing hours, the Rangers were victorious, found the heavy artillery, took it out with grenades, pushed onwards for a mile (still under heavy fire) and secured the roads so that the Germans could not set up a roadblock in the future. They were in desperate need of reinforcements and support but none could get to them for over 48 hours....of the 225 men who started the mission, only 90 remained at the end of it. I am so glad I visited La Pointe du Hoc - it should not be missed for anybody seeking to see and understand this historic place - and these men deserve for their efforts to be recognized all these years later.
On my way back to the car, I scolded a German couple for letting their dog "foul" around the craters. They pretended like they didn't understand me for a minute....but they did...and I knew they did. Totally unacceptable to let their dog defecate in such a place. I gave them a piece of paper out of my notebook and stood there watching them until they picked up the poop. Definitely NOT letting Germans shit on that place....literally
That, in a nutshell, was the Battle of Normandy - and the D-Day invasion.
"You can manufacture weapons, and you can purchase ammunition, but you cannot buy valor and you can't pull heroes off an assembly line" - Sergeant John B. Ellery
Onwards to the cemetery.
The Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial - if ever there was a place to bring tears to your eyes....this is it. I knew this place was going to be powerful - but it is more than that. You feel small and insignificant within that hallowed place. You feel grateful, proud, sad and inspired. Many say that Arlington is the most beautiful cemetery in the world, but I think The Normandy American Cemetery rivals it.
You walk towards it from the parking lot, past blooming white hydrangeas and first encounter a modern looking gray building. This is the Visitor's Center. I decided to go here on the way out because I wanted to get to the main area as soon as possible....
Picture a beautiful day...the sun shining and a light breeze...an immaculate expanse of lawn - perfectly manicured - the sound of the ocean around you and the call of seagulls echoing. It smelled faintly of freshly cut grass.
As I was getting closer, I rounded a corner where a sign stood saying, "Silence and Respect, please." This sign was in English. I had to read it twice because my brain had become so accustomed to "translating" everything...and then just smiled. Ahhhhhh, English.
This cemetery is not the biggest in the world, but its scale still takes your breath away - 172.5 acres. You round the final bend and spread out before you are 9,387 headstones - all pristine, gleaming white marble. Of those, 9,238 are Latin Crosses and 149 are Stars of David. They are lined up on a razor's edge (and as one guy loudly said..."This was before lasers"....Thanks, guy). I walked among them and noticed that every single stone has a number on the bottom of its back base. The fronts are stark, uniform and somewhat chilling.... 3 lines....
1. Name
2. Rank
3. State of Origin and Date of Death
There is minimal ornamentation throughout the cemetery- a few conically trimmed trees like you would find in a formal garden and some shrubs separating the different quadrants, marked with the "Letters" - A through J. Beds of polyantha roses trim The Garden of the Missing where engraved tablets honor the missing in action who gave their lives in this region - 1,557. A bronze rosette beside a name shows that the remains were later recovered, identified and buried.
There is a set of symbolic statues at the west end - where I and J are located- two statues of Italian Baveno granite representing the United States and France. A chapel sits in the middle of the cemetery where E,F,G & H quadrants are- its mosaic ceiling depicts America blessing her sons as they depart by sea and air, and a grateful France (a woman) bestowing a laurel wreath upon the American dead. Finally the memorial at the east end features a 22ft. statue - The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves - facing west toward the headstones. Around the small circle at the statue's feet are the words..."Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory of the Coming of the Lord". There is a semi-circular structure around the statue and along the soffit are the words..."This embattled shore, portal of freedom, is forever hallowed by the ideals, the valor and the sacrifices of our fellow countrymen".
Everybody buried here is an American - only 4 civilians merited this honor - one of them a woman...a Red Cross nurse. There are 41 sets of brothers, several fathers and sons, 3 Medal of Honor recipients - 1 of whom was Theodore Roosevelt's son.
"If ever proof were needed that we fought for a cause and not a conquest, it could be found in these cemeteries. Here was our only conquest: All we asked...was enough soil in which to bury our gallant dead." - General Mark W. Clark
France is a place that sometimes makes you want to conceal the fact that you are an American. However, in Normandy - you can hold your head high, stick your chest out, speak your native tongue freely and feel proud that you are an American (cue Lee Greenwood...).
Off I went to Bayeux, to see the famous "Tapisserie" but that is for another posting...
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Le Petit Cite avec Caractere - Le Mont St-Michel
I finally had to leave lovely Carnac as it was time to resume my Western France journey (that, and the hotel bill!). I realized I was hitting the mid-way point of my France adventures but it is still hard to believe that I have only been out of the US for 3 weeks - and it is still only July...November seems a long way off. Especially when I consider my wardrobe - how am I ever going to keep wearing these same clothes over and over and over and over again?? I have done a little washing along the way, but I'm sorry to say - a sink and some travel detergent is not the same thing as a washing machine and dryer. I won't say I stink (b/c that would be totally unacceptable)...but I have felt fresher :)
There is an ebb and flow to travel. You can't possibly always be up on a "high" - your endorphins need time to recover so they can shoot through the roof again. Lovely Carnac was just the respite my poor little endorphins needed in order to truly appreciate the last couple of days.
As I was saying - I left Carnac on Thursday morning, after I took a last little walk along the beach and collected some seashells to remind me of my time there. The beach was littered with little gems, so I selected 3 kinds I wanted to collect and filled my pockets with only those. By the time I returned to my hotel, my shorts were sagging below my bum like a UNLV basketball player!!
I set off with the destination of Mont St-Michel in mind. This had been on my "maybe" list. I couldn't really get too excited about it b/c I've never heard anybody tell me that I "MUST" go here. But it looked cool in the guidebook and it was "on the way" to Caen....sort of. Caen is pronounced "Cahn" whereas Cannes (the glittering Southern France city) is "Can". I may end up going to "Can" in September, but for now..."Cahn" was my ending destination for the evening.
I bee-bopped along for a spell, taking note of the countryside and beginning to truly notice the differences that exist between French roads/cars and American roads\cars.....
1. No trucks in France - as in Ford F-150s, Nissan Rangers, Chevy pick-ups, etc. When I finally noticed this, I really noticed this. NO TRUCKS!
2. No cops lingering about trying to bust you for daring to allow the car to exceed the speed limit by 7 mph. They just get on with it here. Seriously, haven't seen a single cop in over 1500 km of driving.
3. Frenchies ACTUALLY use their blinkers to change lanes. I wish Americans would get on board with this.
4. Frenchies also ONLY use the left hand lane to pass, the way it was meant to be used. They don't really use it as the "fast" lane. They move into it, pass the car or cars they want to, and then move back over to the right lane.
5. There is no "personality" to French cars. They all pretty much look alike and are the same color - Renault, Citroen, Meggane, Audi, Volkswagon....blue, black and gray.
6. Billboards do not mar the view every 2 seconds - especially not ones asking "Where would you go if you were to die today"!!!
7. People do not ride your ass, make gestures, flash their lights, throw up their hands or shoot you dirty looks as they pass. They just don't care enough to do these things.
8. Just when you begin to get accustomed to the scenery, a distant sight will take your breath away.
9. There are always church/cathedral spires on the horizon.
Some things are the same though...like the signs "Bebe a Bord".
The signs indicated I was getting closer to Mont St-Michel and as I came around a corner - still about 12 km away - a gasp was wrenched out of me with a full-on "OMG" as I caught my first glimpse of this place! I know I keep saying that "I don't have the words" or "Words don't do "this" justice"- but perhaps I just wasn't trying hard enough. HOWEVER - words REALLY can't begin to describe this place.....I'll try, though....
First - it looks like it is floating above the ground
Second - your brain just becomes confused by what it is seeing
Third - you can only wonder how this place came to be - a city and a "church" perched on top of a huge rock....???
and
Fourth - you can't wait to get closer to figure this mystery out.
I parked my car at the foot of this surreal place, had myself a quick little snack, chugged some water and threw my purse over my shoulder. I was only going to be here briefly......
Briefly is not a word this place understands. Once it has you within its grasp, it....or rather, the immense horde of people inside, are not letting you out easily. There were throngs of people stretching from one side of the street to the other - and as far as the eye could see. Ughhhhhh....it was like being at a religious amusement park. I could feel the hives wanting to break out!! Only, this place was not originally set-up with the 21st century crowd in mind. Think people with huge backpacks, families of 4 and 5 with large strollers, shuffling older people with walking aids and tour groups of 25-40 people.....in a place that originally held less than 200 people!!! Then add in some sun, a lot of body odor, tacky souvenir shops and simply...no place to move. You can't go left, you can't go right, you can't go forward and you can't go backwards. The only speed of ambulation here was "The Shuffle" with an optional bob'n'weave, if possible...much like trying to leave a festival. AND, since I haven't done an adequate job of describing its structure yet, allow me to do so....a winding place with only one way to go....up, u-P, U-P and UP. Climb, Climb, Climb.... - I finally got so fed up with the lack of movement taking place, that I channeled my old basketball self - particularly my "rebounding" self and began to throw elbows left and right...i.e. Boxing people out as I moved along. I felt bad for a hot minute and then just realized that I will NEVER see any of these people again, and as long as I say "Pardonez-moi", they will think I am French!!! No damage to the American reputation, thank you very much.
I finally saw a set of stairs out of the corner of my eye and busted a move sideways to get there as quickly as possible, probably knocking a kid or two over in my haste. I dashed up the stairs and into a small courtyard that offered a little shade and a lot of quiet. When I regained my equilibrium, I looked around and noticed I was in a "graveyard". Contrary to most people, I love graveyards. They don't creep me out at all. I like looking at the different headstones and the sentiments that people want to say about their loved ones. What struck me about this particular graveyard was how many of the dead were men, and the years in which they died. The years of World War I (1914 - 1918). I think we often get so caught up in the more "modern" drama of WWII, we forget about that awful war which took place only 25 years prior and was supposed to be the "war to end all wars". We also forget that it wiped out an entire generation of young men in Europe. I saw an art exhibit by John Singer Sargent in Portland with Mom a couple years ago that was focused on "children". The moving part about this exhibit is that more than 1/2 the boys depicted by Sargent, never grew into adults. They died in WWI.
This grave in particular struck me....I can't really say why....so sad.
Ici Repose - Albert Desdoity -
Mort au Champ D'Honneur le
15 Juillet 1918
a l'age de 32 ans
Regrets Eternels
After this short break, I started the C-L-I-M-B up to the abbey at the top. I paid my 9.50E and made my way through this incredibly impressive structure built on top of a huge hill and rock with a view to kill for. I just kept thinking to myself - how was this place built??!! I remembered reading the books by Ken Follett, "Pillars of the Earth" and "A World Without End" and felt like I was inside the cathedral he describes.
Mont St-Michel is thought to date back to 708, when Aubert, Bishop of Avranches, had a sanctuary built on Mont-Tombe in honour of the Archangel. The mount soon became a major focus of pilgrimage. It is hard to describe a "Mount" for Americans. It is like a giant rock, in the middle of nowhere, with no surrounding rocks or other structures for it to belong to. So, there is this little village that winds around the rock and continues upwards into this "church-like" structure at the top, capped with a giant spire. Like I said....words are hard. Anyways...
In the 10th century, the Benedictines settled in the abbey that was built (how they built this abbey on top of this huge rock....in the middle of NOWHERE...I'll never know or understand), while a village grew up below its walls. During the Middle Ages, it was regarded as a representation of the heavenly Jerusalem on earth, an image of Paradise (how is that for some description...alas; their words, not mine). By the 14th century, it extended as far as the foot of the rock. An impregnable stronghold during the Hundred years War, Mont St-Michel is also an example of military architecture, its ramparts and fortifications resisted all the English assaults and as a result the Mount became a symbol of National Identity.
Following the dissolution of the religious community during the Revolution (that is the French Revolution, mind you....with Madame le Guillotine) - and until 1863 (in the middle of our Civil War) it was used as a prison. Classified as a historic monument in 1874, it underwent major restoration work. Since then, work has gone on regularly all over the site. In 1979, it became listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Who is this "St-Michel" that the place is named after?? Saint Michael, head of the heavenly militia, was of great importance to Medieval religious sensibility. In the New Testament, Saint Michael appears in the Book of Revelation: he fights and defeats a dragon (oh what I could say about Biblical literalism here.....but I won't) - thought to be a symbol for the devil. To the Medieval man living in expectation and dread of the hereafter, Saint Michael was the one who led away the dead and put their souls in the balance on the day of the last judgement. This worship gained traction after the Hundred Years War and expanded rapidly with the Counter-Reformation, for in the eyes of the Church, it was the only warlike angel who could fight agains the Protestant heresy....yep, those pesky Protestants who wanted to experience God first-hand rather than through a Priest.
I concluded the tour through the church, the nave, the abbey, the crypt, the great hall, the kitchen, etc. and found myself in the Gift Shop. Like my mom, I have a magnet collection. They are affordable, portable and a great memory of the sights I have visited. I am going to have to make some room on the fridge at home, though. For anyone who has seen our fridge knows...there is not one spare centimeter available. What do you think I found in the Gift Shop...yep, you guessed it....Pillars of the Earth....in multiple languages. I knew I was on to something with that analogy!!
Out of the abbey I went, headed for the car. Only one way to get there....down, Down, DOWN!!! Back through the hordes. I will say this - I got an intensely, perverse pleasure on my way down seeing these poor fathers - literally - having to carry their strollers - WITH CHILDREN INSIDE OF THEM - up this mountain of a monastery!! And I'm not talking about 20-30 steps...I'm talking about hundreds of steps. HUNDREDS. The only phrase to describe these poor men is "Pissed Off". For my readers with children, possibly contemplating a trip to Mont St-Michel in the near future....let me give you a word of advice....Skip It. That, or leave the kiddos with a baby-sitter. This ain't the place for them. And not b/c of their behavior, etc....it is just very physical, very uncomfortable at times and not a child-friendly activity - i.e. no flashing lights, no cartoon characters and no music.
As I set off for Caen, and drove down the road away from Mont St-Michel - very satisfied that I had come to this place - I found myself constantly straining to get just "one last glimpse" of it. I nearly ran off the road several times trying to accomplish this "last sight goal"- so decided that I needed to find a "pull-off", drink in my fill of the sight and leave it there for others to hopefully see one day. So I did. Goodbye Mont St-Michel.
Next posting....my morning and afternoon spent saying "Thank You" to the men who stormed the beaches of Normandy on June 6th, 1944 in arguably the most historic battle in modern history - the D-Day invasions. I have goosebumps just contemplating trying to write about what I saw and how it felt to be an American. I was overcome numerous times.....
There is an ebb and flow to travel. You can't possibly always be up on a "high" - your endorphins need time to recover so they can shoot through the roof again. Lovely Carnac was just the respite my poor little endorphins needed in order to truly appreciate the last couple of days.
As I was saying - I left Carnac on Thursday morning, after I took a last little walk along the beach and collected some seashells to remind me of my time there. The beach was littered with little gems, so I selected 3 kinds I wanted to collect and filled my pockets with only those. By the time I returned to my hotel, my shorts were sagging below my bum like a UNLV basketball player!!
I set off with the destination of Mont St-Michel in mind. This had been on my "maybe" list. I couldn't really get too excited about it b/c I've never heard anybody tell me that I "MUST" go here. But it looked cool in the guidebook and it was "on the way" to Caen....sort of. Caen is pronounced "Cahn" whereas Cannes (the glittering Southern France city) is "Can". I may end up going to "Can" in September, but for now..."Cahn" was my ending destination for the evening.
I bee-bopped along for a spell, taking note of the countryside and beginning to truly notice the differences that exist between French roads/cars and American roads\cars.....
1. No trucks in France - as in Ford F-150s, Nissan Rangers, Chevy pick-ups, etc. When I finally noticed this, I really noticed this. NO TRUCKS!
2. No cops lingering about trying to bust you for daring to allow the car to exceed the speed limit by 7 mph. They just get on with it here. Seriously, haven't seen a single cop in over 1500 km of driving.
3. Frenchies ACTUALLY use their blinkers to change lanes. I wish Americans would get on board with this.
4. Frenchies also ONLY use the left hand lane to pass, the way it was meant to be used. They don't really use it as the "fast" lane. They move into it, pass the car or cars they want to, and then move back over to the right lane.
5. There is no "personality" to French cars. They all pretty much look alike and are the same color - Renault, Citroen, Meggane, Audi, Volkswagon....blue, black and gray.
6. Billboards do not mar the view every 2 seconds - especially not ones asking "Where would you go if you were to die today"!!!
7. People do not ride your ass, make gestures, flash their lights, throw up their hands or shoot you dirty looks as they pass. They just don't care enough to do these things.
8. Just when you begin to get accustomed to the scenery, a distant sight will take your breath away.
9. There are always church/cathedral spires on the horizon.
Some things are the same though...like the signs "Bebe a Bord".
The signs indicated I was getting closer to Mont St-Michel and as I came around a corner - still about 12 km away - a gasp was wrenched out of me with a full-on "OMG" as I caught my first glimpse of this place! I know I keep saying that "I don't have the words" or "Words don't do "this" justice"- but perhaps I just wasn't trying hard enough. HOWEVER - words REALLY can't begin to describe this place.....I'll try, though....
First - it looks like it is floating above the ground
Second - your brain just becomes confused by what it is seeing
Third - you can only wonder how this place came to be - a city and a "church" perched on top of a huge rock....???
and
Fourth - you can't wait to get closer to figure this mystery out.
I parked my car at the foot of this surreal place, had myself a quick little snack, chugged some water and threw my purse over my shoulder. I was only going to be here briefly......
Briefly is not a word this place understands. Once it has you within its grasp, it....or rather, the immense horde of people inside, are not letting you out easily. There were throngs of people stretching from one side of the street to the other - and as far as the eye could see. Ughhhhhh....it was like being at a religious amusement park. I could feel the hives wanting to break out!! Only, this place was not originally set-up with the 21st century crowd in mind. Think people with huge backpacks, families of 4 and 5 with large strollers, shuffling older people with walking aids and tour groups of 25-40 people.....in a place that originally held less than 200 people!!! Then add in some sun, a lot of body odor, tacky souvenir shops and simply...no place to move. You can't go left, you can't go right, you can't go forward and you can't go backwards. The only speed of ambulation here was "The Shuffle" with an optional bob'n'weave, if possible...much like trying to leave a festival. AND, since I haven't done an adequate job of describing its structure yet, allow me to do so....a winding place with only one way to go....up, u-P, U-P and UP. Climb, Climb, Climb.... - I finally got so fed up with the lack of movement taking place, that I channeled my old basketball self - particularly my "rebounding" self and began to throw elbows left and right...i.e. Boxing people out as I moved along. I felt bad for a hot minute and then just realized that I will NEVER see any of these people again, and as long as I say "Pardonez-moi", they will think I am French!!! No damage to the American reputation, thank you very much.
I finally saw a set of stairs out of the corner of my eye and busted a move sideways to get there as quickly as possible, probably knocking a kid or two over in my haste. I dashed up the stairs and into a small courtyard that offered a little shade and a lot of quiet. When I regained my equilibrium, I looked around and noticed I was in a "graveyard". Contrary to most people, I love graveyards. They don't creep me out at all. I like looking at the different headstones and the sentiments that people want to say about their loved ones. What struck me about this particular graveyard was how many of the dead were men, and the years in which they died. The years of World War I (1914 - 1918). I think we often get so caught up in the more "modern" drama of WWII, we forget about that awful war which took place only 25 years prior and was supposed to be the "war to end all wars". We also forget that it wiped out an entire generation of young men in Europe. I saw an art exhibit by John Singer Sargent in Portland with Mom a couple years ago that was focused on "children". The moving part about this exhibit is that more than 1/2 the boys depicted by Sargent, never grew into adults. They died in WWI.
This grave in particular struck me....I can't really say why....so sad.
Ici Repose - Albert Desdoity -
Mort au Champ D'Honneur le
15 Juillet 1918
a l'age de 32 ans
Regrets Eternels
After this short break, I started the C-L-I-M-B up to the abbey at the top. I paid my 9.50E and made my way through this incredibly impressive structure built on top of a huge hill and rock with a view to kill for. I just kept thinking to myself - how was this place built??!! I remembered reading the books by Ken Follett, "Pillars of the Earth" and "A World Without End" and felt like I was inside the cathedral he describes.
Mont St-Michel is thought to date back to 708, when Aubert, Bishop of Avranches, had a sanctuary built on Mont-Tombe in honour of the Archangel. The mount soon became a major focus of pilgrimage. It is hard to describe a "Mount" for Americans. It is like a giant rock, in the middle of nowhere, with no surrounding rocks or other structures for it to belong to. So, there is this little village that winds around the rock and continues upwards into this "church-like" structure at the top, capped with a giant spire. Like I said....words are hard. Anyways...
In the 10th century, the Benedictines settled in the abbey that was built (how they built this abbey on top of this huge rock....in the middle of NOWHERE...I'll never know or understand), while a village grew up below its walls. During the Middle Ages, it was regarded as a representation of the heavenly Jerusalem on earth, an image of Paradise (how is that for some description...alas; their words, not mine). By the 14th century, it extended as far as the foot of the rock. An impregnable stronghold during the Hundred years War, Mont St-Michel is also an example of military architecture, its ramparts and fortifications resisted all the English assaults and as a result the Mount became a symbol of National Identity.
Following the dissolution of the religious community during the Revolution (that is the French Revolution, mind you....with Madame le Guillotine) - and until 1863 (in the middle of our Civil War) it was used as a prison. Classified as a historic monument in 1874, it underwent major restoration work. Since then, work has gone on regularly all over the site. In 1979, it became listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Who is this "St-Michel" that the place is named after?? Saint Michael, head of the heavenly militia, was of great importance to Medieval religious sensibility. In the New Testament, Saint Michael appears in the Book of Revelation: he fights and defeats a dragon (oh what I could say about Biblical literalism here.....but I won't) - thought to be a symbol for the devil. To the Medieval man living in expectation and dread of the hereafter, Saint Michael was the one who led away the dead and put their souls in the balance on the day of the last judgement. This worship gained traction after the Hundred Years War and expanded rapidly with the Counter-Reformation, for in the eyes of the Church, it was the only warlike angel who could fight agains the Protestant heresy....yep, those pesky Protestants who wanted to experience God first-hand rather than through a Priest.
I concluded the tour through the church, the nave, the abbey, the crypt, the great hall, the kitchen, etc. and found myself in the Gift Shop. Like my mom, I have a magnet collection. They are affordable, portable and a great memory of the sights I have visited. I am going to have to make some room on the fridge at home, though. For anyone who has seen our fridge knows...there is not one spare centimeter available. What do you think I found in the Gift Shop...yep, you guessed it....Pillars of the Earth....in multiple languages. I knew I was on to something with that analogy!!
Out of the abbey I went, headed for the car. Only one way to get there....down, Down, DOWN!!! Back through the hordes. I will say this - I got an intensely, perverse pleasure on my way down seeing these poor fathers - literally - having to carry their strollers - WITH CHILDREN INSIDE OF THEM - up this mountain of a monastery!! And I'm not talking about 20-30 steps...I'm talking about hundreds of steps. HUNDREDS. The only phrase to describe these poor men is "Pissed Off". For my readers with children, possibly contemplating a trip to Mont St-Michel in the near future....let me give you a word of advice....Skip It. That, or leave the kiddos with a baby-sitter. This ain't the place for them. And not b/c of their behavior, etc....it is just very physical, very uncomfortable at times and not a child-friendly activity - i.e. no flashing lights, no cartoon characters and no music.
As I set off for Caen, and drove down the road away from Mont St-Michel - very satisfied that I had come to this place - I found myself constantly straining to get just "one last glimpse" of it. I nearly ran off the road several times trying to accomplish this "last sight goal"- so decided that I needed to find a "pull-off", drink in my fill of the sight and leave it there for others to hopefully see one day. So I did. Goodbye Mont St-Michel.
Next posting....my morning and afternoon spent saying "Thank You" to the men who stormed the beaches of Normandy on June 6th, 1944 in arguably the most historic battle in modern history - the D-Day invasions. I have goosebumps just contemplating trying to write about what I saw and how it felt to be an American. I was overcome numerous times.....
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Je suis desolee - Je suis une Americaine...Je ne parle pas Francais :)
Viva la France!! I left the "safe" island of Great Britain where the language was not a problem and popped down to Beauvais, France. Beauvais - I'm sorry to say - was quite unimpressive. Perhaps I didn't see her lovely bits - I only saw her industrial, graffiti'd, shut-down bits. However, a quiet room with a big bed was welcome after 2 nights in a Hostel. For those of you reading this not on Facebook, there was a rumor that one of the beds in my original room had bedbugs...you wouldn't believe how quickly I DEMANDED to be moved to another room...and IMMEDIATELY mind you. That doesn't mean that hotels can't have bedbugs - but at least the information is not up in my face.
First things first - I picked up my car at the airport from a snooty little guy named Hubert (HEW-BEAR). It wasn't just me being sensitive, Hubert and I almost had real American words when he refused to get into detail about insurance coverage on the car. EVEN AFTER I explained to him why I kept asking questions, he was un-moved. Ahem...readers, HEW-BEAR was an asshole. It sucked for me that when I finally found the car - HEW-BEAR gave me the wrong lot # - because I had just assumed (what is it they say about the word assume...don't do it b/c it makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me") - that the car would be "fine". Nope. French cars are a little different than American cars - rather than a P,R, N, D1, D2, etc. - they have R,N,A,M....no P. Huh??? I get the R and the N...what is A and M?? Let's just say that it took me almost 45 minutes to even PULL OUT of the parking lot. I did find the "P" - it is a little button you pull-up located in the center console. Of course!! Why did I think that a function as important as parking would have a "gear" or a lever in a prominent place rather than a little button?? I set the GPS and off I went......SCREECH!!!! UH-OH...what is this car saying?? Stupid me, the GPS was telling me where to go....EN FRANCAIS!! This had to be remedied. It only took me another 30 minutes or so to figure it out...this is where High School French saved me!! I may not speak the language, but I can still read it pretty decently....at least enough to order on a menu, understand the street signs and change the GPS to speak English....we're now really off for a French adventure.
I'll spare you the details of Night 1 in Beauvais - there is nothing to say.
Day 2 - Having no wi-fi as promised on Night 1 left me really ready for an adventure - I didn't know where I was going, what I was going to see or where I was going to stay. I was doing it in true "Bro" style!! I had hoped to avoid driving through Paris, but the GPS had other ideas....I made it, but I no longer have any fingernails left on either hand. At one point, I almost - literally - screamed out loud..."GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!!" Instead, the first English song yet came on the radio - Muse, Black Holes and Revelations. I cannot possibly explain how hearing this familiar song calmed me down enough to get through Gay Paree and out on the open road. I think it's b/c I just automatically started singing and was mentally transported to a better place. Who knows....but it worked!
I originally set out for either Tours or Angers. I knew there were hostels in both cities that I could explore. Down the A-something I went...another note to my readers - it is EXPENSIVE to drive on the French motorways...really expensive. Perhaps I only think this b/c I have never lived on the East Coast and dealt with tolls. So, as I approached my first toll, I got that "oh shit, what do I do here" feeling. I have discovered that if you just carefully watch what others or the people in front of you are doing, you will figure it out. Toll 1 completed. That wasn't so bad....onwards!
Even though I was headed for Tours, I pulled over at a Shell station - yes, they look the same - and pulled out my Big Guide Book for all of Europe. I refreshed myself on the Loire Valley and the various Chateaux in the area. I figured I'd let the car do what it wanted....so after a few more kilometers (oh yeah, the car registers speed in kph...not mph...Dar Dar...this took a minute as well) - I jerked the wheel and decided to get off at Chambord and start driving the back roads. So glad I did this - even though it was a gray day, the countryside was nice. Well, silly me thought I would see the Chateau at Chambord....but it is actually located somewhere else. The town of Chambord is not much to see....so I continued to Blois.
Blois - A powerful feudal stronghold in the 12th century, Blois rose to glory under Louis XII, who established his court here in 1498 (not too long after Columbus sailed the ocean blue...). The town remained at the center of French royal and political life for much of the next century. Today, Blois is the quintessential Loire town. The partly pedestrianized old quarter is full of romantic courtyards (I didn't see these) and fine mansions (or these...). The chateau at Blois was home to kings Louis XII, Francois I and Henri III - apparently no other chateau has such a sensational history as the Chateau de Blois. It was here (and I went in the room) in 1588, that the ambitious Duc de Guise, leader of the Catholic Holy Leage, was murdered on the orders of Henri III. There are 4 distinct architectural styles - I went through the architecture exhibit...but it was quite dense. Also in Blois - the 3-spired Eglise St-Nicolas and the Cathedrale St-Louis (I went to both). The 2nd church is a 17th century reproduction of a Gothic church that was almost destroyed in 1678. Don't know why....the Cathedrale was locked up. Booo. So, I walked the town of Blois, visited its Big House and had a light picnic along the river that divides the old and the new parts of town. Time to go, though...more places to see....
Remember though - I have NO map. HEW-BEAR, the asshole, wouldn't give me one and I forgot to buy one at the Shell station. This is what signs are for....Passed another Big House along the Loire....Driving, Driving - you can really go on these French roads. And I have yet to see 1 single speed cop. I'm beginning to think the cops just let the French work it out on the highways - how smart is that?
I was going to pass through Amboise, but I caught sight of their Big House out of the corner of my eye and almost screeched to a halt. WOW - it was sparkling in the sunlight that had just decided to materialize. Clearly, I was meant to stop here. I drove over the bridge and just let the car steer itself again to a lovely little garden walk along the river. I parked for free (yay), got out and just stood there wondering how I had come to find myself in such a perfect setting. A shimmering river, with 2 sailboats bobbling peacefully, at the foot of a massive chateau?? This was just too perfect. I took my book, a blanket and some fruit and cheese down to the river bank where I whiled away a couple hours just sitting, reading, eating and enjoying. I didn't have a schedule - no real place I had to be. So I stayed awhile. I didn't actually go up into the big house - after getting raped for 10.50E to see the one at Blois, I decided that I was only going to pay for one more....if I paid to see all 4, that would be ridiculous. I wandered around the city for a while, trying to decide if I wanted to stay there and then decided to push on for Tours. I wasn't in my car more than 5 minutes when I SCREECHED to another halt and jerked the car off the road into this massive field of sunflowers. I had seen these from the highway, but I hadn't seen one up close....and here one was!!! With a road between the 3 fields. I crept along the road, marveling at how pretty the flowers looked - thinking of how much Mom would have loved to have seen this. I stopped the car, got out, took some pictures and just leaned back to soak in the view for a couple more minutes.....what do you think came on the radio just then....? U2's "Pride (In the Name of Love)" .....I couldn't make this stuff up!!! Of course, I started crying...but they were "happy" tears. After the time on the embankment, this was almost too much. How is it that the pictures you have in your head actually come true? I don't know....but they did.
I finally left Amboise - it was much later than I planned to leave - and still decided to head for Tours. That was until I passed two signs for Chenonceau. I knew this was the "most famous" of the Big Houses, but I needed to get to Tours, didn't I. Nope, not really. I swung the car around after deciding that I would probably NEVER AGAIN be in this same position and it would be a shame to miss out on another possible "experience". Good thing I made that decision.
Driving to Chenonceau, I was constantly tempted to pull over at all the signs for "Caves"...i.e. Wineries. However, the couple I did pull into, were closed for the day. When I finally looked at my watch, I couldn't believe it was already 7:30pm. I almost talked myself out of going to Chenonceau - b/c I really just wanted a picture of the place. I doubted that would be possible, but who knows....
Chenonceau - I finally pulled into the parking lot promptly at 8 and was encouraged to see a fair amount of people still milling about. Surely they would let me just take a picture of the place...? Nope, and they were quite adamant about it -that will be 9.50E, please. Ughhhhh. I almost said "No" - then decided to suck it up and go ahead..even though I would only have 30 minutes to see the Big House. 15 if you count how long the driveway is. I ambled up the drive and got to the house. For those of you who have ever seen pictures of this place....I was frankly a little disappointed. I expected something absolutely massive and jaw-dropping. It's not...from the front. Its real treasure lies inside with this Loooooong room called The Grand Galerie which actually spans the River Cher. When I stepped inside, the docents WERE NOT happy to see me. 15 minutes until closing time, mind you. Oh well, if there is ever a time to bust out my "Mercis" this was it. I took FULL advantage of my 15 minutes and believe it or not....had the ENTIRE house ALL TO MYSELF!!! What a blessing for someone who hates hordes....especially hordes that contain screaming children (I won't go down that road again...)....
Chenonceau - Stretching romantically across the Riveer Cher, is considered by many to be the loveliest of the Loire chateaux (glad I came then!). Surrounded by elegant formal gardens and wooded grounds (I did see some wildlife!), this pure Renaissance building began life as a modest manor and water mill. Over the centuries, it was transformed by the wives and mistresses of its successive owners into a palace designed solely for pleasure.
The main lady was Diane de Poitiers - she was Henry II's lifelong mistress, holding court as queen of France, in all but name. Her beauty inspired many French artists, who often depicted her in the role of Diana, the Classical goddess of the hunt. In 1547, Henry offered the Big House to Diane, who improved the palace by creating the stunning formal gardens and an arched bridge over the River Cher. After Henry's accidental death in 1559, Diane was forced to leave Chenonceau by his widow, Catherine de'Medici (this was one mean woman....but I would have probably made my husband's mistress leave as well, in all fairness), in exchange for the fortress-like Chateau de Chaumont. Diane lived there until her death in 1566.
I stepped back through the doors at exactly 8:30pm and they almost knocked me in the ass while they slammed the door. Oh well - who cares. I will always savor the fact that I had that grand place to myself. I walked about the gardens for 30 more minutes, found my way in the hedge maze and then headed for the car. It was beginning to get dark and I didn't really want to drive the windy, crazy roads of France in the dark. I decided to grab some dinner and find a place to stay. Big mistake getting stuck in Chenonceau. The only places to stay were expensive for what they were and I just got stubborn. Why pay 79E for a grubby little closet when I could sleep in my car for free? I'm sure the adult readers of this will shriek, but - it was safe. And I had my knife with me ready to go. Other than being uncomfortable and a tad cold at times - it was fine. I slapped a hat on the next morning, brushed my teeth and made my way to the local patisserie for a Pain au Chocolat and a Cafe. I got there just as the bread was being delivered....mmmmmmmm - another French experience. Smelling the bread first thing in the morning. I bought some yogurt, a peach and my chocolate croissant - pulled out my book, read a little and just listened to the conversation (not understanding it, mind you) happening around me as the locals came in with their special bread bags to begin their days as well.
Alright, am I ever gonna get to Tours?? Off we go again - I only stopped in Tours briefly...I started to feel behind schedule...even though I didn't have one. I snapped a few pictures, walked the streets for an hour and then got back in the car and headed for Nantes. Nantes supposedly has a fabulous museum with wonderful paintings from the 16th-19th centuries. Right up my alley, no?? Got to Nantes, found the Musee des Beaux-Arts....and got the rude awakening that it was CLOSED!!! Arrrghhhhh....closed....on a Tuesday?? I realize there are Monday closures...but, Tuesday??!! Ughhhh. I looked at the Big House here - the Chateau des Ducs de Bretagne and the Big Church - Cathedrale St-Pierre et St-Paul, had some lunch at a local brasserie and decided to go to Carnac.
Going to Carnac was not in my original plan. I was supposed to go to Brest to stay with a couchsurfing person, but I had been unable to get a hold of the person and realized I had been stood-up for the first time. Oh well - that is why Plan B is important....except I didn't really have Plan B. Unless you call $$ or a credit card Plan B - which I do.
Carnac is a popular seaside town probably most famous as one of the world's great prehistoric sites. As long ago as 4000 BC, thousands of ancient granite rocks were arranged in mysterious lines and patterns in the countryside around Carnac by Megalithic tribes. Their purposes are uncertain, though they are thought to have religious significance or to be related to early astronomical calendars. Celts, Romans and Christians have since adapted them to their own beliefs. The rocks are called "menhirs" and I saw LOTS of them today. They are really quite cool - you don't notice that they are arranged in perfect lines until you get on the sides of them. From the front, things look like a big jumble. I got some good pictures here before they let the people in amongst them. I realize I could have paid to walk around them, but I liked having them cordoned off- made them more mysterious that way. I drove all up and down the Avenue des Alignments - stopped several times and walked around....especially when I found another sunflower field directly across from one of the rock "gardens". All in all - a very cool sight and site - definitely worth visiting and I'm so glad that I found myself here in Carnac.
Tonight - I'm going to take a walk on the beach and have myself a little dinner out on my balcony. I picked up a roast chicken at the market along with some couscous and a big heirloom tomato that I'm going to fill with said couscous. Found a great bottle of wine for almost pennies. I know I should probably head down to one of the local bars to meet some people, but I'm feeling reflective and in one of my moods where I prefer to be in the company of myself. I met several wonderful people in Edinburgh from just being out and about (alright....I mean men ;) )- a politician, a paratrooper and a data analyst. I'm going to save my charming self for Rouen where I'll be couchsurfing the 29th - 31st.
Tomorrow - I may try to see the sun rise over the Menhirs, take a quick walk on the beach, have a little breakfast and then I'll set off for Mont St-Michel and finally, Caen and Bayeux as my final destinations. Caen is the jumping off point to see Omaha Beach....I'm hoping to get there around sunset when most of the crowds will be gone. I want quiet when I visit that hallowed place.
SO - this last post brings us all up to speed. It's been A LOT of writing for me (and a lot of reading for you) - but it has allowed me to indulge in my fantasy of being a writer. It's the perfect setting, there has been good material and the sound of the waves has been music to my ears.....
First things first - I picked up my car at the airport from a snooty little guy named Hubert (HEW-BEAR). It wasn't just me being sensitive, Hubert and I almost had real American words when he refused to get into detail about insurance coverage on the car. EVEN AFTER I explained to him why I kept asking questions, he was un-moved. Ahem...readers, HEW-BEAR was an asshole. It sucked for me that when I finally found the car - HEW-BEAR gave me the wrong lot # - because I had just assumed (what is it they say about the word assume...don't do it b/c it makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me") - that the car would be "fine". Nope. French cars are a little different than American cars - rather than a P,R, N, D1, D2, etc. - they have R,N,A,M....no P. Huh??? I get the R and the N...what is A and M?? Let's just say that it took me almost 45 minutes to even PULL OUT of the parking lot. I did find the "P" - it is a little button you pull-up located in the center console. Of course!! Why did I think that a function as important as parking would have a "gear" or a lever in a prominent place rather than a little button?? I set the GPS and off I went......SCREECH!!!! UH-OH...what is this car saying?? Stupid me, the GPS was telling me where to go....EN FRANCAIS!! This had to be remedied. It only took me another 30 minutes or so to figure it out...this is where High School French saved me!! I may not speak the language, but I can still read it pretty decently....at least enough to order on a menu, understand the street signs and change the GPS to speak English....we're now really off for a French adventure.
I'll spare you the details of Night 1 in Beauvais - there is nothing to say.
Day 2 - Having no wi-fi as promised on Night 1 left me really ready for an adventure - I didn't know where I was going, what I was going to see or where I was going to stay. I was doing it in true "Bro" style!! I had hoped to avoid driving through Paris, but the GPS had other ideas....I made it, but I no longer have any fingernails left on either hand. At one point, I almost - literally - screamed out loud..."GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!!" Instead, the first English song yet came on the radio - Muse, Black Holes and Revelations. I cannot possibly explain how hearing this familiar song calmed me down enough to get through Gay Paree and out on the open road. I think it's b/c I just automatically started singing and was mentally transported to a better place. Who knows....but it worked!
I originally set out for either Tours or Angers. I knew there were hostels in both cities that I could explore. Down the A-something I went...another note to my readers - it is EXPENSIVE to drive on the French motorways...really expensive. Perhaps I only think this b/c I have never lived on the East Coast and dealt with tolls. So, as I approached my first toll, I got that "oh shit, what do I do here" feeling. I have discovered that if you just carefully watch what others or the people in front of you are doing, you will figure it out. Toll 1 completed. That wasn't so bad....onwards!
Even though I was headed for Tours, I pulled over at a Shell station - yes, they look the same - and pulled out my Big Guide Book for all of Europe. I refreshed myself on the Loire Valley and the various Chateaux in the area. I figured I'd let the car do what it wanted....so after a few more kilometers (oh yeah, the car registers speed in kph...not mph...Dar Dar...this took a minute as well) - I jerked the wheel and decided to get off at Chambord and start driving the back roads. So glad I did this - even though it was a gray day, the countryside was nice. Well, silly me thought I would see the Chateau at Chambord....but it is actually located somewhere else. The town of Chambord is not much to see....so I continued to Blois.
Blois - A powerful feudal stronghold in the 12th century, Blois rose to glory under Louis XII, who established his court here in 1498 (not too long after Columbus sailed the ocean blue...). The town remained at the center of French royal and political life for much of the next century. Today, Blois is the quintessential Loire town. The partly pedestrianized old quarter is full of romantic courtyards (I didn't see these) and fine mansions (or these...). The chateau at Blois was home to kings Louis XII, Francois I and Henri III - apparently no other chateau has such a sensational history as the Chateau de Blois. It was here (and I went in the room) in 1588, that the ambitious Duc de Guise, leader of the Catholic Holy Leage, was murdered on the orders of Henri III. There are 4 distinct architectural styles - I went through the architecture exhibit...but it was quite dense. Also in Blois - the 3-spired Eglise St-Nicolas and the Cathedrale St-Louis (I went to both). The 2nd church is a 17th century reproduction of a Gothic church that was almost destroyed in 1678. Don't know why....the Cathedrale was locked up. Booo. So, I walked the town of Blois, visited its Big House and had a light picnic along the river that divides the old and the new parts of town. Time to go, though...more places to see....
Remember though - I have NO map. HEW-BEAR, the asshole, wouldn't give me one and I forgot to buy one at the Shell station. This is what signs are for....Passed another Big House along the Loire....Driving, Driving - you can really go on these French roads. And I have yet to see 1 single speed cop. I'm beginning to think the cops just let the French work it out on the highways - how smart is that?
I was going to pass through Amboise, but I caught sight of their Big House out of the corner of my eye and almost screeched to a halt. WOW - it was sparkling in the sunlight that had just decided to materialize. Clearly, I was meant to stop here. I drove over the bridge and just let the car steer itself again to a lovely little garden walk along the river. I parked for free (yay), got out and just stood there wondering how I had come to find myself in such a perfect setting. A shimmering river, with 2 sailboats bobbling peacefully, at the foot of a massive chateau?? This was just too perfect. I took my book, a blanket and some fruit and cheese down to the river bank where I whiled away a couple hours just sitting, reading, eating and enjoying. I didn't have a schedule - no real place I had to be. So I stayed awhile. I didn't actually go up into the big house - after getting raped for 10.50E to see the one at Blois, I decided that I was only going to pay for one more....if I paid to see all 4, that would be ridiculous. I wandered around the city for a while, trying to decide if I wanted to stay there and then decided to push on for Tours. I wasn't in my car more than 5 minutes when I SCREECHED to another halt and jerked the car off the road into this massive field of sunflowers. I had seen these from the highway, but I hadn't seen one up close....and here one was!!! With a road between the 3 fields. I crept along the road, marveling at how pretty the flowers looked - thinking of how much Mom would have loved to have seen this. I stopped the car, got out, took some pictures and just leaned back to soak in the view for a couple more minutes.....what do you think came on the radio just then....? U2's "Pride (In the Name of Love)" .....I couldn't make this stuff up!!! Of course, I started crying...but they were "happy" tears. After the time on the embankment, this was almost too much. How is it that the pictures you have in your head actually come true? I don't know....but they did.
I finally left Amboise - it was much later than I planned to leave - and still decided to head for Tours. That was until I passed two signs for Chenonceau. I knew this was the "most famous" of the Big Houses, but I needed to get to Tours, didn't I. Nope, not really. I swung the car around after deciding that I would probably NEVER AGAIN be in this same position and it would be a shame to miss out on another possible "experience". Good thing I made that decision.
Driving to Chenonceau, I was constantly tempted to pull over at all the signs for "Caves"...i.e. Wineries. However, the couple I did pull into, were closed for the day. When I finally looked at my watch, I couldn't believe it was already 7:30pm. I almost talked myself out of going to Chenonceau - b/c I really just wanted a picture of the place. I doubted that would be possible, but who knows....
Chenonceau - I finally pulled into the parking lot promptly at 8 and was encouraged to see a fair amount of people still milling about. Surely they would let me just take a picture of the place...? Nope, and they were quite adamant about it -that will be 9.50E, please. Ughhhhh. I almost said "No" - then decided to suck it up and go ahead..even though I would only have 30 minutes to see the Big House. 15 if you count how long the driveway is. I ambled up the drive and got to the house. For those of you who have ever seen pictures of this place....I was frankly a little disappointed. I expected something absolutely massive and jaw-dropping. It's not...from the front. Its real treasure lies inside with this Loooooong room called The Grand Galerie which actually spans the River Cher. When I stepped inside, the docents WERE NOT happy to see me. 15 minutes until closing time, mind you. Oh well, if there is ever a time to bust out my "Mercis" this was it. I took FULL advantage of my 15 minutes and believe it or not....had the ENTIRE house ALL TO MYSELF!!! What a blessing for someone who hates hordes....especially hordes that contain screaming children (I won't go down that road again...)....
Chenonceau - Stretching romantically across the Riveer Cher, is considered by many to be the loveliest of the Loire chateaux (glad I came then!). Surrounded by elegant formal gardens and wooded grounds (I did see some wildlife!), this pure Renaissance building began life as a modest manor and water mill. Over the centuries, it was transformed by the wives and mistresses of its successive owners into a palace designed solely for pleasure.
The main lady was Diane de Poitiers - she was Henry II's lifelong mistress, holding court as queen of France, in all but name. Her beauty inspired many French artists, who often depicted her in the role of Diana, the Classical goddess of the hunt. In 1547, Henry offered the Big House to Diane, who improved the palace by creating the stunning formal gardens and an arched bridge over the River Cher. After Henry's accidental death in 1559, Diane was forced to leave Chenonceau by his widow, Catherine de'Medici (this was one mean woman....but I would have probably made my husband's mistress leave as well, in all fairness), in exchange for the fortress-like Chateau de Chaumont. Diane lived there until her death in 1566.
I stepped back through the doors at exactly 8:30pm and they almost knocked me in the ass while they slammed the door. Oh well - who cares. I will always savor the fact that I had that grand place to myself. I walked about the gardens for 30 more minutes, found my way in the hedge maze and then headed for the car. It was beginning to get dark and I didn't really want to drive the windy, crazy roads of France in the dark. I decided to grab some dinner and find a place to stay. Big mistake getting stuck in Chenonceau. The only places to stay were expensive for what they were and I just got stubborn. Why pay 79E for a grubby little closet when I could sleep in my car for free? I'm sure the adult readers of this will shriek, but - it was safe. And I had my knife with me ready to go. Other than being uncomfortable and a tad cold at times - it was fine. I slapped a hat on the next morning, brushed my teeth and made my way to the local patisserie for a Pain au Chocolat and a Cafe. I got there just as the bread was being delivered....mmmmmmmm - another French experience. Smelling the bread first thing in the morning. I bought some yogurt, a peach and my chocolate croissant - pulled out my book, read a little and just listened to the conversation (not understanding it, mind you) happening around me as the locals came in with their special bread bags to begin their days as well.
Alright, am I ever gonna get to Tours?? Off we go again - I only stopped in Tours briefly...I started to feel behind schedule...even though I didn't have one. I snapped a few pictures, walked the streets for an hour and then got back in the car and headed for Nantes. Nantes supposedly has a fabulous museum with wonderful paintings from the 16th-19th centuries. Right up my alley, no?? Got to Nantes, found the Musee des Beaux-Arts....and got the rude awakening that it was CLOSED!!! Arrrghhhhh....closed....on a Tuesday?? I realize there are Monday closures...but, Tuesday??!! Ughhhh. I looked at the Big House here - the Chateau des Ducs de Bretagne and the Big Church - Cathedrale St-Pierre et St-Paul, had some lunch at a local brasserie and decided to go to Carnac.
Going to Carnac was not in my original plan. I was supposed to go to Brest to stay with a couchsurfing person, but I had been unable to get a hold of the person and realized I had been stood-up for the first time. Oh well - that is why Plan B is important....except I didn't really have Plan B. Unless you call $$ or a credit card Plan B - which I do.
Carnac is a popular seaside town probably most famous as one of the world's great prehistoric sites. As long ago as 4000 BC, thousands of ancient granite rocks were arranged in mysterious lines and patterns in the countryside around Carnac by Megalithic tribes. Their purposes are uncertain, though they are thought to have religious significance or to be related to early astronomical calendars. Celts, Romans and Christians have since adapted them to their own beliefs. The rocks are called "menhirs" and I saw LOTS of them today. They are really quite cool - you don't notice that they are arranged in perfect lines until you get on the sides of them. From the front, things look like a big jumble. I got some good pictures here before they let the people in amongst them. I realize I could have paid to walk around them, but I liked having them cordoned off- made them more mysterious that way. I drove all up and down the Avenue des Alignments - stopped several times and walked around....especially when I found another sunflower field directly across from one of the rock "gardens". All in all - a very cool sight and site - definitely worth visiting and I'm so glad that I found myself here in Carnac.
Tonight - I'm going to take a walk on the beach and have myself a little dinner out on my balcony. I picked up a roast chicken at the market along with some couscous and a big heirloom tomato that I'm going to fill with said couscous. Found a great bottle of wine for almost pennies. I know I should probably head down to one of the local bars to meet some people, but I'm feeling reflective and in one of my moods where I prefer to be in the company of myself. I met several wonderful people in Edinburgh from just being out and about (alright....I mean men ;) )- a politician, a paratrooper and a data analyst. I'm going to save my charming self for Rouen where I'll be couchsurfing the 29th - 31st.
Tomorrow - I may try to see the sun rise over the Menhirs, take a quick walk on the beach, have a little breakfast and then I'll set off for Mont St-Michel and finally, Caen and Bayeux as my final destinations. Caen is the jumping off point to see Omaha Beach....I'm hoping to get there around sunset when most of the crowds will be gone. I want quiet when I visit that hallowed place.
SO - this last post brings us all up to speed. It's been A LOT of writing for me (and a lot of reading for you) - but it has allowed me to indulge in my fantasy of being a writer. It's the perfect setting, there has been good material and the sound of the waves has been music to my ears.....
Fun Facts and Funnies about Scotland...
Our Scottish education began immediately upon sitting down in the bus and pulling away from The Royal Mile - this long street in Scotland with lots of shops, cafes, churches, etc.....all leading up to the massive castle that dominates the skyline (my hostel was immediately at the foot of it)...Our guide for the next 3 days was a lovely man "called" Eric. This was the first of several lovely Scotsmen I met during my time in Scotland. I think the Scots may have the market cornered on handsome, older men with sexy brogues....James Bond, anyone?!
1. Old Scotland - like most cities in that day - was a rank and nasty smelling place due to no indoor plumbing. It appears that 10pm (2200h) was the magic hour b/c at this time, when the bells pealed, everybody emptied their business into the streets....from high above to down below. In other words, it rained shit in Scotland every night at 10pm. Not the ideal time to take a moonlit stroll!
2. We went by a statue of William Pitt the Younger. Mr Pitt the Younger became the youngest Prime Minister in the history of Britain at the ripe old age of 23....please reflect for a moment and consider whether you could have led an entire nation/empire at that age...I certainly would not have been qualified!! Well, Mr. Pitt the Younger became totally unpopular overnight by introducing the horror of horrors.....The Income Tax!! He also levied another deeply unpopular tax called The Window Tax - and this was our "fun fact/funny"...Mr. Pitt the Younger believed that if you had windows, then you could afford to be taxed on them. To get around this, the Scots "blacked out" their windows to avoid paying this tax. You can drive around Edinburgh and still see these strange windows called "Pitt's Portraits"....the Scots considered it "Daylight Robbery". They also didn't consider this act tax evasion; rather, tax efficiency!
3. Edinburgh is only home to 450K people but this number swells into the millions during the month of August when they host their world famous "Arts Festival" - the largest of its kind in the world. It is said this festival gives a voice to "The Fringe" movement. Part of me wishes I could see it and part of me is glad I won't be subjected to the hordes of people.
4. Bath, Dublin and the new section of Edinburgh all resemble each other since they were built and re-built in the same style - the Georgian style. Remember those curved buildings I wrote about in Bah-th? Well, Edinburgh has its own set.
5. We drove past Stewart's Melville - a supposed source of inspiration for J.K. Rowling in creating Hogwart's. Mrs. Rowling used to not be able to pay her bills and was just another single, struggling mother. She wrote the first couple of Harry Potter's in cafe's and gardens around Edinburgh - there are whole tours devoted to this. Considering I've never read any of the books and only seen the first movie, I decided to skip this particular tour. Mrs. Rowling is now the richest woman in Britain with more liquid assets than the Queen.
6. Scots are obsessed with the weather - just like the English. They have little names to describe the differing types....
a. Dreich (dree-k) - a light rain
b. Dour (dooo-er) - gray and sullen (I like how the name is indicative of its meaning)
c. Braw - a beautiful day with the sun shining
I saw all 3 types of weather while I was there.
7. We stopped in a little town called Pitlochery on the River Tay. This is where the largest salmon in Scottish history was caught - 64lbs. AND - it was caught by a woman...Miss Georgina Valentine back in 1929. It took her an hour and a half to bring the big sucker in!!
8. Pacific Salmon and Atlantic Salmon are very different. Pacific Salmon die after they make that long trip up the river to spawn. Atlantic Salmon do not. They can make the journey several times which results in a larger, meaty salmon. Another cool thing about the Pacific Salmon (or kinda gross considering how you look at it..) - you can see the Salmon sometimes jumping out of the river. This is NOT the result of them jumping for food as some other fish do. In fact, the Salmon have Sea Lice when they enter the rivers and like most things with lice, they want to get rid of them. Their jumping is a result of having been bitten by the lice and their attempt to shake them off.
9. The Highland Charge - so cool!! The Highlanders were considered to have the best Infantry in the world at one point. The Highland Charge always comes from above and 1 man can take out 3 of the enemy using his "special" Scots weapons....
1. You knock a guy in the head with your shield
2. Then, you shank another in the groin with your "wee" sword/dagger - The Dirkh
3. Finally, you slash downwards on someone else with your "big" sword - The Claymore (yes, there is mine/bomb by this name) - AND, this was the name of the pub I frequented in Grantown-on-Spey.
Scotsmen carried a dagger in their socks as well called the Sgean Dhu (Shane Du), but this guy was almost never used as a weapon. Instead, it was a tool for skinning an animal, preparing dinner or breaking bones to get at the marrow.
10. We drove past Culloden - where a battle had taken place between the Jacobites and the English in 1745. The Jacobites were re-grouping at this castle ruin we went by - waiting on Bonnie Prince Charlie to join them and rally the troops. BPC sent a note to these weary, battle sore guys saying, "Sorry guys, not coming back up there....it's every man for himself." Probably NOT the note you want to get from your illustrious leader who you have given up everything for, to try and put him on the throne. Ironically, BCP was Italian, not Scottish and that is where he returned to rather than making the last push for London. He was given some bad Intel from a spy who was actually a double agent saying that London was heavily fortified and could not be easily taken. This was a lie - London was actually totally un-defended with her fighters off in France and would have fallen had the guys soldiered on. One of those "wee" turning points that could have happened in history.
11. The definition of a Hamlet - 1/2 a dozen houses.
12. The Spey River - the longest and fastest river in the UK.
13. Grantown-on-Spey - this is just a fancy way of saying the name of the town and its location....Grantown was a model village set up to try to get the Highlanders under control. It was modeled after the re-settlement of the Native Americans in the US. The government and its ministers wanted the Highlanders to have a more stable lifestyle 300 to 400 years ago, so they built this little "gem". No word on whether or not it worked. I find it hard to believe it did based on its model....
14. It is illegal to distill at home in the UK...reason being...its quite dangerous.
15. Snows in the Highlands come along with the East wind - which is the coldest wind in the world. It blows out of Russia and across Europe never really traveling across any water to warm it up at all. Not a wind I want to meet any time soon.
16. True Scotch Whisky MUST contain the following (I could have put this in Post numero uno...oh well...)
1. It must contain at least 40% alcohol
2. It must originate in Scotland
3. It must be aged for a minimum of 3 years
Only then can it be called Scotch Whisky.
17. The year does not determine the quality of the whisky.
18. Aberdeen Angus cows are considered some of the best meat in the world - I can attest to this...my one steak and burger were DELICIOUS! The A.A. is actually a cross between the two - The Aberdeen and The Angus - but is now considered a legitimate breed on its own.
19. The Right to Roam (this was SOOOOO cool!!) - The Scots believe and have put into Law the concept that the land truly belongs to everybody - even private property (kind of). Wait for this one......They believe that as long as you "behave in a responsible way", no one can stop you from accessing the land. This is a Common Law development - meaning, it was never really written down; rather, it was common sense. Interestingly, the Scots also don't have murder and theft laws b/c it should be - again - Common Sense - not to do any of these things. Roaming is native to the Scottish nature. Unfortunately, b/c this is the modern age filled with idiots, the Scots were forced to put something down on paper in 2003 and it had a lot to do with Her Majesty (not the Queen) - but Madonna. When she got married to Guy Ritchie back in 2003, she wanted to rope off thousands of acres of land to keep the people and the paparazzi out. It went all the way to the Scottish High Court who eventually ruled that the exceptions to the "Roaming" rule would be....1. Private Gardens and 2. Military Access Points. Fair enough, right? But "Her Majesty Madonna" could not rope off nearly as much land as she wanted b/c nobody in their right mind would actually consider that a "garden". SO - you can access all the land in Scotland as long as you are in a non-mechanized vehicle, behaving in a responsible manner and acting according to the concept of being a "true traveler" (this is to prevent the gypsies from setting up camp everywhere and mucking things up).
20. There are 4 elements to truly tasting Whisky (again, should have been included in earlier posts....)
1. Visualization - look at the color
2. Nosing - like wine, inhale deeply b/c your nose will pick up on notes your tongue won't be able to.
3. Tasting - self-explanatory
4. Aftertaste - savor the sip, more flavors reveal themselves after you swallow.
21. Having a Cathedral with a Bishop in Residence determined whether a city could be called a "City".
22. Ways to spot a distillery from the distance.....1. Look for a pagoda top and 2. Look for rising steam.
23. Sheep are marked in 2 ways - on the shoulder to determine who they belong to and on the butt - to know if they have "Had a Party" - i.e. Dating Direct Scotland. In order to know whether a Ewe (pronounced Yow) has "had a party" with a Tut (the male). The owners will tie a sponge dipped in orange paint to the Tut's business. When he and the Yow "have a party", she is marked - but in a good way. The farmer can then see which of his Yow's were down with the Tuts and which ones were acting coy and behaving like wallflowers. He then herds these coy Yows into the Fold, where he selects his best Tut to really go "have a party". Thus ensuring that his entire flock is happy.
24. Because sheering is expensive, the Scots have come up with a genetic mutation to make many of their sheep "Self-Sheering". No, they don't actually grab the clippers and take care of cutting their own hair - They rub up against the walls and their coats come off. Weird.
25. Sheep's tails are not docked in Scotland b/c there are no bugs or mites that make this practice necessary.
26. If you are lucky enough to see wildlife - keep moving slowly. It is the stopping that scares them and marks you as a danger.
27. Fishermen in the area have developed their own method of casting while fly-fishing called "Spey Casting". Because they cannot flip their cast backwards and forwards (think "A River Runs Through It") due to the heavy tree growth all the way up to the river's edge, they have modified their cast to sideways. I would have liked to see this in action.
28. There are no bears, wolves or boars anymore in Scotland. They have been eliminated un-necessarily b/c of silly people thinking they are a danger. Eric had strong opinions on this and I have to agree with him.
29. Now, for possibly my FAVORITE fact of the trip....The Hurry Cooos. Huh?? What are these? They are actually Hairy Highland Cows - but I like the phonetic pronunciation better - "hurry coos". These things are ridiculously cute - I bought a book of postcards and sent some to a lucky few!! Anyways - all the Hurry Coos used to be black. They were a breed indigenous to Scotland and came from the Isle of Lewis in the Hebrides. Queen Victoria was taking a tour of her realm and saw these cows. Well, she did not like the fact that they were black - she thought they looked "sinister". Well, a farmer heard of her "displeasure" and set about changing the color of the Hurry Coos, which he was successful in doing :(((( . Now, the Hurry Coos are a brownish/toffee color...much like a Boxer (had to give my muffin a shout out -even though he is Brindle). Today, only 10% of the Hurry Coos are actually their true color of black, the remaining 90% are a mix of gold, brown, dark brown, etc. - with 1% being Albino. The Hurry Coos are apparently very good swimmers - they used to be swum (is that the right tense?!) from island to island by tying (jeez, I'm having some trouble with spelling/grammar) their tales to their nose rings. A few got lost along the way, but they were considered the weak ones. Because the Hurry Coos have such luscious horns - that grow in wonky ways - it is believed they were used to help make the Texas Longhorn.
30. We drove past Balmoral - the Queen's residence for the months of August and September each year and where the Royals gather to catch up after their busy summer months. Balmoral was purchased by Prince Albert for Queen Victoria - remember how I said these two loved each other...A LOT? Well, P.A. was originally going to purchase a different "house" in the Western part of the country, but upon visiting her proposed new house, the Queen met with some unwelcome visitors.....The Midgies. These are kin to the mosquito and fly about in large droves, biting and stinging. The Queen was displeased with these horrid creatures, so the sale of the "house" fell through. Balmoral was settled upon, but when she saw it - she didn't like it, so P.A. tore down the original structure and re-built something a little more to her liking in 1843....and that is what you "see" today.
31. The story of Loch Lomond (also a song). It refers to The High Road and The Low Road. Quite poetic - I think it was during the Jacobite Rebellion (but I didn't put this in my notes...darn it!) - 2 Rebels were captured who happened to be brothers. To have a little fun, the "guy" or captor decided to give them an option. They had one night together to decide who would die among the two and who would be set free the next day. Well, the Scots believe that immediately upon death, the soul goes underground and is immediately transported back to its place of birth - hence, The Low Road. Apparently everyone yearns for their place of birth in Scotland, so taking The High Road just meant that the one brother who lived, would have to wait longer to reach his place of birth. My mind did wander down the road of "What if you hated the place you were born?" But enough of that - since I love the place of my birth, I can definitely say that if this choice were put to me and my brother - I would volunteer to go first. And I'm not just saying that - if it put me at peace, re-united me with my mother and had me living eternally in the house on the hill....I'd take it in a New York minute.
32. We drove past the largest hedge in the world (think large, tall bush)- the McClure Beech Hedge. This beast has to be trimmed by hand - machines will damage the vascular system and cause it to "look ugly".
33. The Pride of Scotland - another cool story. The Pride of Scotland is comprised of two things....The Jewels of Scotland and The Stone of Destiny (drama, much?!). The Stone of Destiny is simply a rock that all the monarchs of Scotland were crowned upon until Mr. Meany-Pants himself, Edward I - also known as Edward the Longshanks (remember Braveheart) - decided to strike a blow to Scotland and take it. He sent his men to the abbey it was housed at - Scone Palace/Abbey - this is pronounced "Skoon" - not Scone like the breakfast pastry.
Here is where the "Legend" part comes in. Edward only told his men to take "The Big Important Rock". No real description existed of it other than "a dark, dense object not of this earth"....but this description wasn't found until just recently -which makes things even more mysterious. The men took what they presumed to be "The Big Important Rock" and presented the King with it. Well, some enterprising monks heard what the King was about to do - i.e. steal their very important rock - so legend has it that they went looking about for the biggest rock they could find to fool these soldiers who were on their way to steal "The Big Important Rock". What did they find.....the cover for their "cess pit"- in other words....the cover for their toilet. Now, every British monarch has also been crowned with this "Big Important Rock" underneath the ancient throne they take their oaths on....so you see, the Scots can laugh themselves silly, b/c in reality - every British monarch has actually been crowned on a toilet seat cover!!!
Another funny story about "The Big Important Rock" happened in 1950 when some students from Glasgow decided it was high time (centuries later) to get their "Big Important Rock" back. They got into Westminster on Christmas and hid themselves until all was locked up tight. They then snuck out - 3 guys and a girl - found the rock and proceeded to run off with it. Unfortunately, "The Big Important Rock" was quite heavy, and the students managed to drop it within 5 minutes or so of stealing it - and subsequently, breaking it. Regardless, they got the pieces out and fled. Well, "The Big Important Rock" was discovered missing almost immediately the next morning which prompted the set-up of the largest roadblock in British history. The students had decided to lay low for a bit before crossing the border back into Scotland. They made it home safely, but then proceeded to get "in their cups" - i.e. Knackered...i.e. Drunk and started shooting off their mouths...i.e. Blabbing about their huge coup. It wasn't long before the authorities found them and threw them in the slammer. Good thing there were brilliant Scottish minds about who welcomed taking on this challenge. They argued quite simply...."How can you steal your own property?" Apparently, the gov't didn't REALLY buy this but they had to give credit where credit was due. The students were let off but the stone returned to England. However, don't think the story ends there......the Queen formally gifted it back to Scotland in 1998 where a huge procession took place up the road to The Castle, where "The Big Important Rock" was returned to the Scottish people......or was it??
As mentioned above, a description of "The Big Important Rock" has only recently been found. Many scholars now think that the REAL Stone of Destiny is still hidden somewhere thanks to the wily monks. Upon close examination of the current "Big Important Rock" - it is quite ordinary whereas the description of a "dark, dense object not of this earth" conjures up the image of an asteroid or something. Who knows if the mystery will ever be solved....but, I like the version which says the English got what they deserved for stealing such a "Big Important Rock"....in other words....getting crowned on a toilet cover!!!!
34. "For These Are My Mountains" - our driver, Eric, sang this song (and 2 others) to us as we were descending out of The Grampians. This may sound like quite the cheesy scene, but I assure you....it wasn't. His voice was incredibly pure and moving. I was enraptured listening to him and knowing that he truly feels this way about his home......here are the lyrics, but I highly encourage anyone reading this to go to YouTube and have a real listen....My favorite versions begin with the chorus...
For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
(last) and I have come home
Full lyrics are:
For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth
And now I've come back to the land of my birth
I've brought back my treasures but only to find
They're less than the pleasures I first left behind
For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
(last) and I have come home
The burn by the road sings at my going by
The whaup averhead wings with welcoming cry
The loch where the scart flies at last I can see
It's here that my heart lies it's here I'll be free
Kind faces will meet me and welcome me in
And how they will greet me my ain kith and kin
The night round the ingle old sangs will be sung
At last I'll be hearing my ain mother tongue.
The other 2 songs were called "Flower of Scotland" and "The Wanderlust". Neither moved me as much as the one above.
35. Alright...I am now going to de-bunk some of the movie, "Braveheart". It hurts me a little to do this...and I put it towards the end of the posting on purpose (also b/c we were told all this as we rolled back into Edinburgh at the end of the trip)...I'll make this as painless as possible...
1. William Wallace (W.W.) never rode on a horse. He was an infantry soldier.
2. Mel Gibson is under 5'5 and W.W. was 6'8. I cried out "No Way" from the back of the bus but was assured that he had to be, b/c his Double Handled Broadsword is in the Scottish possession and it measures a full 6 FEET!! The damn sword is taller than Mel (and me, for that matter!!) 6 FEET..OMG!
3. W.W. would never have worn a kilt or a tartan - he was a Lowland Scot not a Highlander.
4. W.W. would never have worn blue paint on his face.
5. In the movie, The Battle of Stirling is actually The Battle of Stirling Bridge...they forgot the bridge in the movie...hahaha.
6. After Falkirk, W.W. went to Rome to beg the Pope to recognize Scotland as independent. The Pope refused - this could have been good if it had made it into the movie
6. W.W. was not - in fact - EVER - called "Braveheart". This illustrious title actually belonged to Robert the Bruce - cool story here....
Robert the Bruce (actually Robert de Bris...he was Norman, not Scottish...but shhhhhhh) - kinda ruled Scotland for a while. Because he CHOSE to do that - and was a Roman Catholic - he did not do his Christian duty at the time of fighting in the Crusades. On his deathbed (of leprosy...like his father in the movie), RtB extracted a promise from one of his faithful followers, Sir James Douglas, that Sir James would take his heart once he was dead and go fight with it (not actually "with" it...that's what they had swords for) in a Crusade. Sir James was faithful to this promise and took 25 men to the South of Spain to battle the Moors. They got there and realized they were outnumbered 500 to 25 (not good odds, in my humble, non-military opinion) but decided to go up against them anyways. Sir James - in a very poetic move - held up the heart of RtB, threw it at the Moors (hate to be the guy it hit....this heart was no longer fresh), and screamed - "Follow on, Brave Heart". Clearly, these guys did not stand a chance - and were annihilated...but the Moors gave points for bravery and allowed 2 of the knights to live. The also allowed them to retrieve the heart that had been tossed about and sent them back to Scotland. Thankfully, the guys made it back and they put the heart at the Abbey at Melrose where it can be visited today. I did not visit it.
But, it appears that Mel liked the name to call his movie.
Conversely - Mr. Liam Neeson who is a tall 6'6 (although Irish, not Scottish) played Rob Roy...who was actually a "wee" man. Our driver, Eric, wondered why the Scots had selected Mel to play W.W - to which I again shouted from the back of the bus - that it was kinda Mel's show.....he bought the script, produced it, directed it and - of course - decided to star in it. The Scots didn't really have much of a choice, right? Eric didn't totally hate on the movie- as he opined...it's been good for tourism...I'll bet!!!
36. Upon arriving back in Edinburgh, we were driven down to the waterfront for a view of the 2 main bridges crossing the Forth (or Firth...I can't remember now) - one is old and red, the other is new and white. The Red Bridge is "the greatest Victorian feat"....and needed to be b/c the guy who "built" it - Mr. Sir Thomas Botch - had built another bridge earlier that decided to collapse and fall into the River Tay. He didn't want this to happen again, so he made his new bridge extra, extra strong. Too bad for Mr. Sir Botch, though....because if you have ever heard the term "a botched job"...you now know where that came from.
37. FINALLY.....
We drove past the "Hawes" bar where Mr. Sir Robert Louis Stevenson wrote his stories and gives a shout out to the bar on the first page of "Kidnapped".
And that....Ladies and Gentlemen....concludes the Fun Facts and Funnies section of our Scottish Blog Postings. I hope you have enjoyed the "show". Please return later today for a recount of my lovely drive through the Loire Valley.....
It's back to Balcony Envy for me.....for now. There is more wine to be had...
1. Old Scotland - like most cities in that day - was a rank and nasty smelling place due to no indoor plumbing. It appears that 10pm (2200h) was the magic hour b/c at this time, when the bells pealed, everybody emptied their business into the streets....from high above to down below. In other words, it rained shit in Scotland every night at 10pm. Not the ideal time to take a moonlit stroll!
2. We went by a statue of William Pitt the Younger. Mr Pitt the Younger became the youngest Prime Minister in the history of Britain at the ripe old age of 23....please reflect for a moment and consider whether you could have led an entire nation/empire at that age...I certainly would not have been qualified!! Well, Mr. Pitt the Younger became totally unpopular overnight by introducing the horror of horrors.....The Income Tax!! He also levied another deeply unpopular tax called The Window Tax - and this was our "fun fact/funny"...Mr. Pitt the Younger believed that if you had windows, then you could afford to be taxed on them. To get around this, the Scots "blacked out" their windows to avoid paying this tax. You can drive around Edinburgh and still see these strange windows called "Pitt's Portraits"....the Scots considered it "Daylight Robbery". They also didn't consider this act tax evasion; rather, tax efficiency!
3. Edinburgh is only home to 450K people but this number swells into the millions during the month of August when they host their world famous "Arts Festival" - the largest of its kind in the world. It is said this festival gives a voice to "The Fringe" movement. Part of me wishes I could see it and part of me is glad I won't be subjected to the hordes of people.
4. Bath, Dublin and the new section of Edinburgh all resemble each other since they were built and re-built in the same style - the Georgian style. Remember those curved buildings I wrote about in Bah-th? Well, Edinburgh has its own set.
5. We drove past Stewart's Melville - a supposed source of inspiration for J.K. Rowling in creating Hogwart's. Mrs. Rowling used to not be able to pay her bills and was just another single, struggling mother. She wrote the first couple of Harry Potter's in cafe's and gardens around Edinburgh - there are whole tours devoted to this. Considering I've never read any of the books and only seen the first movie, I decided to skip this particular tour. Mrs. Rowling is now the richest woman in Britain with more liquid assets than the Queen.
6. Scots are obsessed with the weather - just like the English. They have little names to describe the differing types....
a. Dreich (dree-k) - a light rain
b. Dour (dooo-er) - gray and sullen (I like how the name is indicative of its meaning)
c. Braw - a beautiful day with the sun shining
I saw all 3 types of weather while I was there.
7. We stopped in a little town called Pitlochery on the River Tay. This is where the largest salmon in Scottish history was caught - 64lbs. AND - it was caught by a woman...Miss Georgina Valentine back in 1929. It took her an hour and a half to bring the big sucker in!!
8. Pacific Salmon and Atlantic Salmon are very different. Pacific Salmon die after they make that long trip up the river to spawn. Atlantic Salmon do not. They can make the journey several times which results in a larger, meaty salmon. Another cool thing about the Pacific Salmon (or kinda gross considering how you look at it..) - you can see the Salmon sometimes jumping out of the river. This is NOT the result of them jumping for food as some other fish do. In fact, the Salmon have Sea Lice when they enter the rivers and like most things with lice, they want to get rid of them. Their jumping is a result of having been bitten by the lice and their attempt to shake them off.
9. The Highland Charge - so cool!! The Highlanders were considered to have the best Infantry in the world at one point. The Highland Charge always comes from above and 1 man can take out 3 of the enemy using his "special" Scots weapons....
1. You knock a guy in the head with your shield
2. Then, you shank another in the groin with your "wee" sword/dagger - The Dirkh
3. Finally, you slash downwards on someone else with your "big" sword - The Claymore (yes, there is mine/bomb by this name) - AND, this was the name of the pub I frequented in Grantown-on-Spey.
Scotsmen carried a dagger in their socks as well called the Sgean Dhu (Shane Du), but this guy was almost never used as a weapon. Instead, it was a tool for skinning an animal, preparing dinner or breaking bones to get at the marrow.
10. We drove past Culloden - where a battle had taken place between the Jacobites and the English in 1745. The Jacobites were re-grouping at this castle ruin we went by - waiting on Bonnie Prince Charlie to join them and rally the troops. BPC sent a note to these weary, battle sore guys saying, "Sorry guys, not coming back up there....it's every man for himself." Probably NOT the note you want to get from your illustrious leader who you have given up everything for, to try and put him on the throne. Ironically, BCP was Italian, not Scottish and that is where he returned to rather than making the last push for London. He was given some bad Intel from a spy who was actually a double agent saying that London was heavily fortified and could not be easily taken. This was a lie - London was actually totally un-defended with her fighters off in France and would have fallen had the guys soldiered on. One of those "wee" turning points that could have happened in history.
11. The definition of a Hamlet - 1/2 a dozen houses.
12. The Spey River - the longest and fastest river in the UK.
13. Grantown-on-Spey - this is just a fancy way of saying the name of the town and its location....Grantown was a model village set up to try to get the Highlanders under control. It was modeled after the re-settlement of the Native Americans in the US. The government and its ministers wanted the Highlanders to have a more stable lifestyle 300 to 400 years ago, so they built this little "gem". No word on whether or not it worked. I find it hard to believe it did based on its model....
14. It is illegal to distill at home in the UK...reason being...its quite dangerous.
15. Snows in the Highlands come along with the East wind - which is the coldest wind in the world. It blows out of Russia and across Europe never really traveling across any water to warm it up at all. Not a wind I want to meet any time soon.
16. True Scotch Whisky MUST contain the following (I could have put this in Post numero uno...oh well...)
1. It must contain at least 40% alcohol
2. It must originate in Scotland
3. It must be aged for a minimum of 3 years
Only then can it be called Scotch Whisky.
17. The year does not determine the quality of the whisky.
18. Aberdeen Angus cows are considered some of the best meat in the world - I can attest to this...my one steak and burger were DELICIOUS! The A.A. is actually a cross between the two - The Aberdeen and The Angus - but is now considered a legitimate breed on its own.
19. The Right to Roam (this was SOOOOO cool!!) - The Scots believe and have put into Law the concept that the land truly belongs to everybody - even private property (kind of). Wait for this one......They believe that as long as you "behave in a responsible way", no one can stop you from accessing the land. This is a Common Law development - meaning, it was never really written down; rather, it was common sense. Interestingly, the Scots also don't have murder and theft laws b/c it should be - again - Common Sense - not to do any of these things. Roaming is native to the Scottish nature. Unfortunately, b/c this is the modern age filled with idiots, the Scots were forced to put something down on paper in 2003 and it had a lot to do with Her Majesty (not the Queen) - but Madonna. When she got married to Guy Ritchie back in 2003, she wanted to rope off thousands of acres of land to keep the people and the paparazzi out. It went all the way to the Scottish High Court who eventually ruled that the exceptions to the "Roaming" rule would be....1. Private Gardens and 2. Military Access Points. Fair enough, right? But "Her Majesty Madonna" could not rope off nearly as much land as she wanted b/c nobody in their right mind would actually consider that a "garden". SO - you can access all the land in Scotland as long as you are in a non-mechanized vehicle, behaving in a responsible manner and acting according to the concept of being a "true traveler" (this is to prevent the gypsies from setting up camp everywhere and mucking things up).
20. There are 4 elements to truly tasting Whisky (again, should have been included in earlier posts....)
1. Visualization - look at the color
2. Nosing - like wine, inhale deeply b/c your nose will pick up on notes your tongue won't be able to.
3. Tasting - self-explanatory
4. Aftertaste - savor the sip, more flavors reveal themselves after you swallow.
21. Having a Cathedral with a Bishop in Residence determined whether a city could be called a "City".
22. Ways to spot a distillery from the distance.....1. Look for a pagoda top and 2. Look for rising steam.
23. Sheep are marked in 2 ways - on the shoulder to determine who they belong to and on the butt - to know if they have "Had a Party" - i.e. Dating Direct Scotland. In order to know whether a Ewe (pronounced Yow) has "had a party" with a Tut (the male). The owners will tie a sponge dipped in orange paint to the Tut's business. When he and the Yow "have a party", she is marked - but in a good way. The farmer can then see which of his Yow's were down with the Tuts and which ones were acting coy and behaving like wallflowers. He then herds these coy Yows into the Fold, where he selects his best Tut to really go "have a party". Thus ensuring that his entire flock is happy.
24. Because sheering is expensive, the Scots have come up with a genetic mutation to make many of their sheep "Self-Sheering". No, they don't actually grab the clippers and take care of cutting their own hair - They rub up against the walls and their coats come off. Weird.
25. Sheep's tails are not docked in Scotland b/c there are no bugs or mites that make this practice necessary.
26. If you are lucky enough to see wildlife - keep moving slowly. It is the stopping that scares them and marks you as a danger.
27. Fishermen in the area have developed their own method of casting while fly-fishing called "Spey Casting". Because they cannot flip their cast backwards and forwards (think "A River Runs Through It") due to the heavy tree growth all the way up to the river's edge, they have modified their cast to sideways. I would have liked to see this in action.
28. There are no bears, wolves or boars anymore in Scotland. They have been eliminated un-necessarily b/c of silly people thinking they are a danger. Eric had strong opinions on this and I have to agree with him.
29. Now, for possibly my FAVORITE fact of the trip....The Hurry Cooos. Huh?? What are these? They are actually Hairy Highland Cows - but I like the phonetic pronunciation better - "hurry coos". These things are ridiculously cute - I bought a book of postcards and sent some to a lucky few!! Anyways - all the Hurry Coos used to be black. They were a breed indigenous to Scotland and came from the Isle of Lewis in the Hebrides. Queen Victoria was taking a tour of her realm and saw these cows. Well, she did not like the fact that they were black - she thought they looked "sinister". Well, a farmer heard of her "displeasure" and set about changing the color of the Hurry Coos, which he was successful in doing :(((( . Now, the Hurry Coos are a brownish/toffee color...much like a Boxer (had to give my muffin a shout out -even though he is Brindle). Today, only 10% of the Hurry Coos are actually their true color of black, the remaining 90% are a mix of gold, brown, dark brown, etc. - with 1% being Albino. The Hurry Coos are apparently very good swimmers - they used to be swum (is that the right tense?!) from island to island by tying (jeez, I'm having some trouble with spelling/grammar) their tales to their nose rings. A few got lost along the way, but they were considered the weak ones. Because the Hurry Coos have such luscious horns - that grow in wonky ways - it is believed they were used to help make the Texas Longhorn.
30. We drove past Balmoral - the Queen's residence for the months of August and September each year and where the Royals gather to catch up after their busy summer months. Balmoral was purchased by Prince Albert for Queen Victoria - remember how I said these two loved each other...A LOT? Well, P.A. was originally going to purchase a different "house" in the Western part of the country, but upon visiting her proposed new house, the Queen met with some unwelcome visitors.....The Midgies. These are kin to the mosquito and fly about in large droves, biting and stinging. The Queen was displeased with these horrid creatures, so the sale of the "house" fell through. Balmoral was settled upon, but when she saw it - she didn't like it, so P.A. tore down the original structure and re-built something a little more to her liking in 1843....and that is what you "see" today.
31. The story of Loch Lomond (also a song). It refers to The High Road and The Low Road. Quite poetic - I think it was during the Jacobite Rebellion (but I didn't put this in my notes...darn it!) - 2 Rebels were captured who happened to be brothers. To have a little fun, the "guy" or captor decided to give them an option. They had one night together to decide who would die among the two and who would be set free the next day. Well, the Scots believe that immediately upon death, the soul goes underground and is immediately transported back to its place of birth - hence, The Low Road. Apparently everyone yearns for their place of birth in Scotland, so taking The High Road just meant that the one brother who lived, would have to wait longer to reach his place of birth. My mind did wander down the road of "What if you hated the place you were born?" But enough of that - since I love the place of my birth, I can definitely say that if this choice were put to me and my brother - I would volunteer to go first. And I'm not just saying that - if it put me at peace, re-united me with my mother and had me living eternally in the house on the hill....I'd take it in a New York minute.
32. We drove past the largest hedge in the world (think large, tall bush)- the McClure Beech Hedge. This beast has to be trimmed by hand - machines will damage the vascular system and cause it to "look ugly".
33. The Pride of Scotland - another cool story. The Pride of Scotland is comprised of two things....The Jewels of Scotland and The Stone of Destiny (drama, much?!). The Stone of Destiny is simply a rock that all the monarchs of Scotland were crowned upon until Mr. Meany-Pants himself, Edward I - also known as Edward the Longshanks (remember Braveheart) - decided to strike a blow to Scotland and take it. He sent his men to the abbey it was housed at - Scone Palace/Abbey - this is pronounced "Skoon" - not Scone like the breakfast pastry.
Here is where the "Legend" part comes in. Edward only told his men to take "The Big Important Rock". No real description existed of it other than "a dark, dense object not of this earth"....but this description wasn't found until just recently -which makes things even more mysterious. The men took what they presumed to be "The Big Important Rock" and presented the King with it. Well, some enterprising monks heard what the King was about to do - i.e. steal their very important rock - so legend has it that they went looking about for the biggest rock they could find to fool these soldiers who were on their way to steal "The Big Important Rock". What did they find.....the cover for their "cess pit"- in other words....the cover for their toilet. Now, every British monarch has also been crowned with this "Big Important Rock" underneath the ancient throne they take their oaths on....so you see, the Scots can laugh themselves silly, b/c in reality - every British monarch has actually been crowned on a toilet seat cover!!!
Another funny story about "The Big Important Rock" happened in 1950 when some students from Glasgow decided it was high time (centuries later) to get their "Big Important Rock" back. They got into Westminster on Christmas and hid themselves until all was locked up tight. They then snuck out - 3 guys and a girl - found the rock and proceeded to run off with it. Unfortunately, "The Big Important Rock" was quite heavy, and the students managed to drop it within 5 minutes or so of stealing it - and subsequently, breaking it. Regardless, they got the pieces out and fled. Well, "The Big Important Rock" was discovered missing almost immediately the next morning which prompted the set-up of the largest roadblock in British history. The students had decided to lay low for a bit before crossing the border back into Scotland. They made it home safely, but then proceeded to get "in their cups" - i.e. Knackered...i.e. Drunk and started shooting off their mouths...i.e. Blabbing about their huge coup. It wasn't long before the authorities found them and threw them in the slammer. Good thing there were brilliant Scottish minds about who welcomed taking on this challenge. They argued quite simply...."How can you steal your own property?" Apparently, the gov't didn't REALLY buy this but they had to give credit where credit was due. The students were let off but the stone returned to England. However, don't think the story ends there......the Queen formally gifted it back to Scotland in 1998 where a huge procession took place up the road to The Castle, where "The Big Important Rock" was returned to the Scottish people......or was it??
As mentioned above, a description of "The Big Important Rock" has only recently been found. Many scholars now think that the REAL Stone of Destiny is still hidden somewhere thanks to the wily monks. Upon close examination of the current "Big Important Rock" - it is quite ordinary whereas the description of a "dark, dense object not of this earth" conjures up the image of an asteroid or something. Who knows if the mystery will ever be solved....but, I like the version which says the English got what they deserved for stealing such a "Big Important Rock"....in other words....getting crowned on a toilet cover!!!!
34. "For These Are My Mountains" - our driver, Eric, sang this song (and 2 others) to us as we were descending out of The Grampians. This may sound like quite the cheesy scene, but I assure you....it wasn't. His voice was incredibly pure and moving. I was enraptured listening to him and knowing that he truly feels this way about his home......here are the lyrics, but I highly encourage anyone reading this to go to YouTube and have a real listen....My favorite versions begin with the chorus...
For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
(last) and I have come home
Full lyrics are:
For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth
And now I've come back to the land of my birth
I've brought back my treasures but only to find
They're less than the pleasures I first left behind
For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
(last) and I have come home
The burn by the road sings at my going by
The whaup averhead wings with welcoming cry
The loch where the scart flies at last I can see
It's here that my heart lies it's here I'll be free
Kind faces will meet me and welcome me in
And how they will greet me my ain kith and kin
The night round the ingle old sangs will be sung
At last I'll be hearing my ain mother tongue.
The other 2 songs were called "Flower of Scotland" and "The Wanderlust". Neither moved me as much as the one above.
35. Alright...I am now going to de-bunk some of the movie, "Braveheart". It hurts me a little to do this...and I put it towards the end of the posting on purpose (also b/c we were told all this as we rolled back into Edinburgh at the end of the trip)...I'll make this as painless as possible...
1. William Wallace (W.W.) never rode on a horse. He was an infantry soldier.
2. Mel Gibson is under 5'5 and W.W. was 6'8. I cried out "No Way" from the back of the bus but was assured that he had to be, b/c his Double Handled Broadsword is in the Scottish possession and it measures a full 6 FEET!! The damn sword is taller than Mel (and me, for that matter!!) 6 FEET..OMG!
3. W.W. would never have worn a kilt or a tartan - he was a Lowland Scot not a Highlander.
4. W.W. would never have worn blue paint on his face.
5. In the movie, The Battle of Stirling is actually The Battle of Stirling Bridge...they forgot the bridge in the movie...hahaha.
6. After Falkirk, W.W. went to Rome to beg the Pope to recognize Scotland as independent. The Pope refused - this could have been good if it had made it into the movie
6. W.W. was not - in fact - EVER - called "Braveheart". This illustrious title actually belonged to Robert the Bruce - cool story here....
Robert the Bruce (actually Robert de Bris...he was Norman, not Scottish...but shhhhhhh) - kinda ruled Scotland for a while. Because he CHOSE to do that - and was a Roman Catholic - he did not do his Christian duty at the time of fighting in the Crusades. On his deathbed (of leprosy...like his father in the movie), RtB extracted a promise from one of his faithful followers, Sir James Douglas, that Sir James would take his heart once he was dead and go fight with it (not actually "with" it...that's what they had swords for) in a Crusade. Sir James was faithful to this promise and took 25 men to the South of Spain to battle the Moors. They got there and realized they were outnumbered 500 to 25 (not good odds, in my humble, non-military opinion) but decided to go up against them anyways. Sir James - in a very poetic move - held up the heart of RtB, threw it at the Moors (hate to be the guy it hit....this heart was no longer fresh), and screamed - "Follow on, Brave Heart". Clearly, these guys did not stand a chance - and were annihilated...but the Moors gave points for bravery and allowed 2 of the knights to live. The also allowed them to retrieve the heart that had been tossed about and sent them back to Scotland. Thankfully, the guys made it back and they put the heart at the Abbey at Melrose where it can be visited today. I did not visit it.
But, it appears that Mel liked the name to call his movie.
Conversely - Mr. Liam Neeson who is a tall 6'6 (although Irish, not Scottish) played Rob Roy...who was actually a "wee" man. Our driver, Eric, wondered why the Scots had selected Mel to play W.W - to which I again shouted from the back of the bus - that it was kinda Mel's show.....he bought the script, produced it, directed it and - of course - decided to star in it. The Scots didn't really have much of a choice, right? Eric didn't totally hate on the movie- as he opined...it's been good for tourism...I'll bet!!!
36. Upon arriving back in Edinburgh, we were driven down to the waterfront for a view of the 2 main bridges crossing the Forth (or Firth...I can't remember now) - one is old and red, the other is new and white. The Red Bridge is "the greatest Victorian feat"....and needed to be b/c the guy who "built" it - Mr. Sir Thomas Botch - had built another bridge earlier that decided to collapse and fall into the River Tay. He didn't want this to happen again, so he made his new bridge extra, extra strong. Too bad for Mr. Sir Botch, though....because if you have ever heard the term "a botched job"...you now know where that came from.
37. FINALLY.....
We drove past the "Hawes" bar where Mr. Sir Robert Louis Stevenson wrote his stories and gives a shout out to the bar on the first page of "Kidnapped".
And that....Ladies and Gentlemen....concludes the Fun Facts and Funnies section of our Scottish Blog Postings. I hope you have enjoyed the "show". Please return later today for a recount of my lovely drive through the Loire Valley.....
It's back to Balcony Envy for me.....for now. There is more wine to be had...
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Different Pieces of the Same Puzzle...
So, after a nice little break with some wine and some people watching - or should I say, the people were watching me....and turning green with envy over my balcony and view!! It's time to introduce you all to the wonderful distilleries I visited while Whisky Tasting.
Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce....
1. Dalwhinnie
2. Benromach
3. Cardhu
4. The Glenlivet
I will attempt to keep this one a little shorter since the "Facts and Funnies" posting will be quite lengthy. I just read back through my notes looking to cull some of the information, but then I thought....Why? If you don't want to read it, you don't have to. At the end of my trip, this blog will serve as my travel journal. No sense skimping when I don't have to....
1. Dalwhinnie - The 2nd highest distillery in Scotland - I forgot to ask the highest ;) The water used comes from 3 miles behind the distillery. Jamie, who I mentioned previously, was our guide...poncey. Only word to describe him - a British word. However, he was not immune to my charms - I wrangled another whisky out of him at the end of the tour ;) Owned by the Diageo group - basically a HUGE alcohol company - Guinness, Gordon's, tons of whisky, Bailey's...countless others. At Dalwhinnie, only 2 stills are located on the property. They keep 5,000 casks on hand with the bulk of their product stored elsewhere. Bottling takes place in Glasgow, not on property.
Introduced us to the "6 Classic Malts of Scotland" - a flavor guide of sorts. Not clear if these are all Diageo distilleries or not...(probably so).
1. Cragganmore - a North Speyside malt
2. Glenkinchie - a Light Lowland malt
3. Dalwhinnie - a Gentle malt from the North Highlands
4. Oban - a Superior West Highland malt
5. Talisker - the Golden Spirit of Skye
6. Lagavulin - a Classic Islay malt
2. Benromach (my favorite tour and favorite guide...Sandy)the only certified organic distillery in Scotland and the smallest distillery in Spey. It was shut down for a number of years but was "recently" re-opened by Gordon and MacPhail - Whisky Gods of Scotland. Benromach is where we learned about "Phinels" - or PPM, Phinel Parts per Million. This measures the smokiness of the whisky. Interesting part is that it doesn't measure the actual intensity. So - a whisky can smell really smoky and have low Phinels, or - conversely, it can have high Phinels and not taste smoky at all.
0-5 parts - typical of Speyside Whiskies
8-12 parts - Benromach
40-60 parts - Laphroiagh (actually tastes a little seaweed b/c the peat used comes from near the sea).
Oh yeah - Whisky gets smokier and peatier the farther west you move. I was in the very Eastern part, so the whisky was much "fruitier". I guess I'll just have to go back to Scotland to explore the Western "bit"
Benromach does all its malting, fermentation, distilling and maturation on site. They are one of the few to still do this. Everything is done by hand here, no computers (like The Glenlivet!) They use 1 person, working 8am-5pm, 5 days per week. They turn out only 25 bottles per week/ 1.5 million Litres per year compared with The Glenlivet (yes, I keep using "The" because they did and it was a bit obnoxious) - who turns out 10.5 million Litres of whisky per year....Yowzas!!!
Sandy made 2 very nice, poetic points while we were there....
1. Distilleries are like a big jigsaw puzzle. They all have the same picture they are seeking to complete, they just put the pieces together differently to do so.
2. Whisky doesn't change, it simply interprets your emotions. This is why the same whisky can taste differently depending on your mood.
HRH The Prince of Wales re-opened Benromach in 1998...I got a picture of his signature. I had to stand outside, though, b/c no pictures are allowed anywhere whisky is being "handled". The volatile vapours can explode if you aren't careful ;)
Their organic certification involves the farming methods of the barley, the water they source and most importantly....the wood the whisky is aged in. Unlike most distilleries that use second hand bourbon casks, Benromach uses virgin casks made of wood from Missouri. Reason being....it has been against the law to use pesticides in Missoure for over 40 years. The new wood imparts a sweet flavor to Benromach's whisky.
This is the only place I purchased Whisky. I couldn't resist as I need a "special" whisky to only bring out on special occasions. I bought one in a Lilac bottle that was aged in a French Bordeaux cask...only 1600 bottles were produced. Can't wait to get home and crack it open with Dad and Bro!!
The next section of the trip was not a distillery, but deserves a huge shout out. It was a place called The Cooperage. It may not sound like much, but this place absolutely blew me away and should always be included on a Whisky tour. The art of coopering is the art of actually making the casks that Bourbon and Whisky go into. I have never even considered how a barrel is made. I look at them with brand new eyes now - especially the people that make them. I have never seen such physical, demanding, exacting work executed so perfectly every single time.
Difference in a Cask vs. a Barrel....a Barrel is a type of Cask as are the other two below...
Barrel - 200 Litres
Hogshead - 250 Litres
Butt - 500 Litres (the guide made me bend over to have a picture of my ass taken next to the HUGE "Butt"....he only made me do this....but I think it was b/c I was his favorite...Little Miss Note Taker and Litle Miss Question Asker ;) )
The motto of the Speyside Cooperage is "From Acorn to Cask". I won't go into the details, just suffice it to say - "Astounded" is the only word I can use to describe my reaction to this place. There are only men coopers - no women. The other motto is "One Man, By Hand". It takes 4 years of intense apprenticeship to become a cooper - where these guys go on to work from 7am-4:30 or 5:30, 5 days a week, churning out 25-30 barrels each per day. There are 15 working coopers with one other guy doing the special orders and overseeing the apprentices. They are paid by the barrel, NOT by the hour (we were told they are paid quite well...very well). This was experimented with once and it was observed that productivity plummeted. When I say I saw no one talking to each other, I mean it....these guys were machines....pounding, measuring, pounding, turning, pounding, checking, pounding, etc. I tried to take pictures of them, but the pictures just don't do these guys or their craft any justice. The cooperage churns out 300,000 to 400,000 barrels per year. 2009 was the highest export year after a huge dip in the Whisky industry. What nation do you think drinks the most whisky....? India. One last little factoid - it is said that within the first year to 18 months that a cooper is retired, he suffers physically because his body has become so used to the hard labor. If they are not careful to keep up a high level of physical activity, they die. Wow.
3. Cardhu - you may know this one better as Johnnie Walker. Cardhu was developed and founded by a woman - the only distillery to bear this distinction. They churn out about 69,500 Litres of spirit per week, 3 million Litres per year. This is the place where we learned that the slightest dent in one of the copper stills can affect the character of the finished product. This became interesting at The Glenlivet. At Cardhu, there are 11 sections that hold 10,000 casks. Others are housed elsewhere. 1/4 of each cask is lost every year to evaporation. This isn't unique to Cardhu - it was just where it was said. Cardhu is mostly famous for its blends rather than its Single Malts. One can turn their nose up at this, but blending is a real art.
Here is your breakdown of the Johnnie Walkers....
Red - 38 different 4-12 year old malts used
Black - 38-39 different 12 year old malts used
Gold - 15 different 18 year old malts used
Green - 15 different 15 year old SINGLE malts used
Blue - 15-16 different 15-50 or 60 year old malts used
We finagled tastes of the Gold and the Green, but Lorraine, our guide held fast about busting into the Blue....despite pressure from our cute little HRH Harry Windsor look-alike....and he did try!! We wouldn't have been able to try the Gold or Green without his charms!
As I said above, Cardhu was started by a woman....when she sold out to "Johnnie Walker" she had some conditions...
1. Her son had to be able to stay on at Cardhu.
2. Her other son would become the blender/bottler upon graduating from "Uni".
3. Johnnie Walker had to build houses for the workers and keep them in good conditions.
4. All waste had to be recycled for animal feed.
So nice to see what can happen when a woman is in charge!!!
And finally.....our last distillery.....
4. The Glenlivet - yes, they had a "The". This place was on a TOTALLY different scale. All completely computerized and mechanized. The total opposite of Benromach. Most Scots don't refer to Glenlivet as Glenlivet; rather, they will order a "Smith's" because this is the name of the founder. The Glenlivet just opened a new wing - also christened by HRH the Prince of Wales...aka Charles or Charles and Diana or now, Charles and Camilla. He likes his whisky. The Barley for The Glenlive comes from the NE of Scotland, just 30 minutes away. Their water is sourced from a well on the property called "Josie's Well". Josie has to work REALLY, REALLY hard, b/c The Glenlivet needs 600,000 Litres of water a day!! Yes, a day!! I mentioned that Grist and Water makes a mash....well, The Glenlivet does 12 TONS of mash 6 TIMES per day. The scale is just massive!!! There is no peat used in The Glenlivet....NONE. The Glenlivet possesses the largest Mash Tun in the whisky industry today - it measures 142 cubic meters. That number doesn't sound like a lot...but, you just can't even comprehend the size of this thing. They only use one Mash Tun.
Turned out that our guide, Kerry - a sweet little Scots girl - actually had a cool family connection to The Glenlivet. Her father built the wash backs - not as large as the Mash Tun, but still REALLY, REALLY big....17 feet high and about 12 feet across. This is his job and he makes these huge contraptions for distilleries all over the world. It was a really personalized piece of information for such a cold, sterile factory.
This is also where we FINALLY learned that the industry does have some idea how the size and shape of the copper stills affects the character of the whisky....and it came from a 21 year old girl. The "tall and slender" stills have light and fruity flavors b/c the alcohol has to travel so far to get up and over the "swan neck"....leaving the dull and dirty vapours behind. The "shorter and dumpier" stills have full and heavy flavors b/c the alcohol doesn't have to travel as far to breach the swan neck. See - I KNEW these people had to have an idea!! Since The Glenlivet just opened a new wing with new copper stills.....they had to EXACTLY duplicate the old ones.....meaning, any dent that existed in the old stills had to be ESACTLY replicated in the new stills. Can you imagine being the "Dent Hunter" and the "Dent Master". Just seems a little silly to think that much of a difference could be made....
As I mentioned - everything is totally computerized here. At the other places, a guy would measure the alcohol content in The Spirit Still by floating a thermometer or something. At The Glenlivet, it is done by "time". The Head is collected for 30 minutes, The Heart is collected for 2 hours and The Tail is collected for 3 hours or for the remaining liquid....just kinda soul-less.
There was a cool story about George Smith, the founder - but I took a picture of it and will remember it that way ;)) Short version....George made excellent whisky that everybody liked in 1823. The King tried it, liked it and wanted George to make more; so he issued him a license. This meant all the authorities were nosing around, poking their snouts into all the local business....which made the locals mad. They threatened and threatened 'ole George until the Laird of Abelore gave George 2 pistols to protect himself. George slept with these pistols every night. End of story. I'd personally like to have more than 2 pistols to protect myself from angry Highlanders.
Apparently, the whisky people don't "Cask" a whisky with the date of maturation already in mind. They decide this - or rather, the master taster does this - after it has been aging for a bit. Then, it will either continue to age for 12, 15, 16, 18, etc. We got to see a cask that has been in the cave since 1962...they estimate that only 1/4 of the cask is left and that the bottles will retail for over 15,000L (that is over $20,000) each. AND you don't even know if the whisky is GOOD!! Finally, the temperature is not controlled at all in the stone buildings used as warehouses. The stone keeps them a pretty neutral temperature at all times of the year....I think that is just crazy talk!!!
We enjoyed The Glenlivet so much that we had 3 different groups overtake us. Yes, we asked questions...Yes, I am my mother's child. I want to know cool little tidbits for cool little conversations later in my life!!
I will end this post with the following "dirty" comment. As I mentioned that I drove past the village of Cockermouth in TLD...the Whisky industry was clearly not thinking when it named some of its terminology....
When you drill the hole into a cask, it is called The Bung Hole.
The cork you put in said hole is called The Butt Plug.
If whisky leeks out of the hole, it is called Butt Seepage.
COME ON, PEOPLE!!!!!
Next up....Fun Facts and Funnies about Scotland, courtesy of our wonderful, handsome Scotsman driver, Eric....
Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce....
1. Dalwhinnie
2. Benromach
3. Cardhu
4. The Glenlivet
I will attempt to keep this one a little shorter since the "Facts and Funnies" posting will be quite lengthy. I just read back through my notes looking to cull some of the information, but then I thought....Why? If you don't want to read it, you don't have to. At the end of my trip, this blog will serve as my travel journal. No sense skimping when I don't have to....
1. Dalwhinnie - The 2nd highest distillery in Scotland - I forgot to ask the highest ;) The water used comes from 3 miles behind the distillery. Jamie, who I mentioned previously, was our guide...poncey. Only word to describe him - a British word. However, he was not immune to my charms - I wrangled another whisky out of him at the end of the tour ;) Owned by the Diageo group - basically a HUGE alcohol company - Guinness, Gordon's, tons of whisky, Bailey's...countless others. At Dalwhinnie, only 2 stills are located on the property. They keep 5,000 casks on hand with the bulk of their product stored elsewhere. Bottling takes place in Glasgow, not on property.
Introduced us to the "6 Classic Malts of Scotland" - a flavor guide of sorts. Not clear if these are all Diageo distilleries or not...(probably so).
1. Cragganmore - a North Speyside malt
2. Glenkinchie - a Light Lowland malt
3. Dalwhinnie - a Gentle malt from the North Highlands
4. Oban - a Superior West Highland malt
5. Talisker - the Golden Spirit of Skye
6. Lagavulin - a Classic Islay malt
2. Benromach (my favorite tour and favorite guide...Sandy)the only certified organic distillery in Scotland and the smallest distillery in Spey. It was shut down for a number of years but was "recently" re-opened by Gordon and MacPhail - Whisky Gods of Scotland. Benromach is where we learned about "Phinels" - or PPM, Phinel Parts per Million. This measures the smokiness of the whisky. Interesting part is that it doesn't measure the actual intensity. So - a whisky can smell really smoky and have low Phinels, or - conversely, it can have high Phinels and not taste smoky at all.
0-5 parts - typical of Speyside Whiskies
8-12 parts - Benromach
40-60 parts - Laphroiagh (actually tastes a little seaweed b/c the peat used comes from near the sea).
Oh yeah - Whisky gets smokier and peatier the farther west you move. I was in the very Eastern part, so the whisky was much "fruitier". I guess I'll just have to go back to Scotland to explore the Western "bit"
Benromach does all its malting, fermentation, distilling and maturation on site. They are one of the few to still do this. Everything is done by hand here, no computers (like The Glenlivet!) They use 1 person, working 8am-5pm, 5 days per week. They turn out only 25 bottles per week/ 1.5 million Litres per year compared with The Glenlivet (yes, I keep using "The" because they did and it was a bit obnoxious) - who turns out 10.5 million Litres of whisky per year....Yowzas!!!
Sandy made 2 very nice, poetic points while we were there....
1. Distilleries are like a big jigsaw puzzle. They all have the same picture they are seeking to complete, they just put the pieces together differently to do so.
2. Whisky doesn't change, it simply interprets your emotions. This is why the same whisky can taste differently depending on your mood.
HRH The Prince of Wales re-opened Benromach in 1998...I got a picture of his signature. I had to stand outside, though, b/c no pictures are allowed anywhere whisky is being "handled". The volatile vapours can explode if you aren't careful ;)
Their organic certification involves the farming methods of the barley, the water they source and most importantly....the wood the whisky is aged in. Unlike most distilleries that use second hand bourbon casks, Benromach uses virgin casks made of wood from Missouri. Reason being....it has been against the law to use pesticides in Missoure for over 40 years. The new wood imparts a sweet flavor to Benromach's whisky.
This is the only place I purchased Whisky. I couldn't resist as I need a "special" whisky to only bring out on special occasions. I bought one in a Lilac bottle that was aged in a French Bordeaux cask...only 1600 bottles were produced. Can't wait to get home and crack it open with Dad and Bro!!
The next section of the trip was not a distillery, but deserves a huge shout out. It was a place called The Cooperage. It may not sound like much, but this place absolutely blew me away and should always be included on a Whisky tour. The art of coopering is the art of actually making the casks that Bourbon and Whisky go into. I have never even considered how a barrel is made. I look at them with brand new eyes now - especially the people that make them. I have never seen such physical, demanding, exacting work executed so perfectly every single time.
Difference in a Cask vs. a Barrel....a Barrel is a type of Cask as are the other two below...
Barrel - 200 Litres
Hogshead - 250 Litres
Butt - 500 Litres (the guide made me bend over to have a picture of my ass taken next to the HUGE "Butt"....he only made me do this....but I think it was b/c I was his favorite...Little Miss Note Taker and Litle Miss Question Asker ;) )
The motto of the Speyside Cooperage is "From Acorn to Cask". I won't go into the details, just suffice it to say - "Astounded" is the only word I can use to describe my reaction to this place. There are only men coopers - no women. The other motto is "One Man, By Hand". It takes 4 years of intense apprenticeship to become a cooper - where these guys go on to work from 7am-4:30 or 5:30, 5 days a week, churning out 25-30 barrels each per day. There are 15 working coopers with one other guy doing the special orders and overseeing the apprentices. They are paid by the barrel, NOT by the hour (we were told they are paid quite well...very well). This was experimented with once and it was observed that productivity plummeted. When I say I saw no one talking to each other, I mean it....these guys were machines....pounding, measuring, pounding, turning, pounding, checking, pounding, etc. I tried to take pictures of them, but the pictures just don't do these guys or their craft any justice. The cooperage churns out 300,000 to 400,000 barrels per year. 2009 was the highest export year after a huge dip in the Whisky industry. What nation do you think drinks the most whisky....? India. One last little factoid - it is said that within the first year to 18 months that a cooper is retired, he suffers physically because his body has become so used to the hard labor. If they are not careful to keep up a high level of physical activity, they die. Wow.
3. Cardhu - you may know this one better as Johnnie Walker. Cardhu was developed and founded by a woman - the only distillery to bear this distinction. They churn out about 69,500 Litres of spirit per week, 3 million Litres per year. This is the place where we learned that the slightest dent in one of the copper stills can affect the character of the finished product. This became interesting at The Glenlivet. At Cardhu, there are 11 sections that hold 10,000 casks. Others are housed elsewhere. 1/4 of each cask is lost every year to evaporation. This isn't unique to Cardhu - it was just where it was said. Cardhu is mostly famous for its blends rather than its Single Malts. One can turn their nose up at this, but blending is a real art.
Here is your breakdown of the Johnnie Walkers....
Red - 38 different 4-12 year old malts used
Black - 38-39 different 12 year old malts used
Gold - 15 different 18 year old malts used
Green - 15 different 15 year old SINGLE malts used
Blue - 15-16 different 15-50 or 60 year old malts used
We finagled tastes of the Gold and the Green, but Lorraine, our guide held fast about busting into the Blue....despite pressure from our cute little HRH Harry Windsor look-alike....and he did try!! We wouldn't have been able to try the Gold or Green without his charms!
As I said above, Cardhu was started by a woman....when she sold out to "Johnnie Walker" she had some conditions...
1. Her son had to be able to stay on at Cardhu.
2. Her other son would become the blender/bottler upon graduating from "Uni".
3. Johnnie Walker had to build houses for the workers and keep them in good conditions.
4. All waste had to be recycled for animal feed.
So nice to see what can happen when a woman is in charge!!!
And finally.....our last distillery.....
4. The Glenlivet - yes, they had a "The". This place was on a TOTALLY different scale. All completely computerized and mechanized. The total opposite of Benromach. Most Scots don't refer to Glenlivet as Glenlivet; rather, they will order a "Smith's" because this is the name of the founder. The Glenlivet just opened a new wing - also christened by HRH the Prince of Wales...aka Charles or Charles and Diana or now, Charles and Camilla. He likes his whisky. The Barley for The Glenlive comes from the NE of Scotland, just 30 minutes away. Their water is sourced from a well on the property called "Josie's Well". Josie has to work REALLY, REALLY hard, b/c The Glenlivet needs 600,000 Litres of water a day!! Yes, a day!! I mentioned that Grist and Water makes a mash....well, The Glenlivet does 12 TONS of mash 6 TIMES per day. The scale is just massive!!! There is no peat used in The Glenlivet....NONE. The Glenlivet possesses the largest Mash Tun in the whisky industry today - it measures 142 cubic meters. That number doesn't sound like a lot...but, you just can't even comprehend the size of this thing. They only use one Mash Tun.
Turned out that our guide, Kerry - a sweet little Scots girl - actually had a cool family connection to The Glenlivet. Her father built the wash backs - not as large as the Mash Tun, but still REALLY, REALLY big....17 feet high and about 12 feet across. This is his job and he makes these huge contraptions for distilleries all over the world. It was a really personalized piece of information for such a cold, sterile factory.
This is also where we FINALLY learned that the industry does have some idea how the size and shape of the copper stills affects the character of the whisky....and it came from a 21 year old girl. The "tall and slender" stills have light and fruity flavors b/c the alcohol has to travel so far to get up and over the "swan neck"....leaving the dull and dirty vapours behind. The "shorter and dumpier" stills have full and heavy flavors b/c the alcohol doesn't have to travel as far to breach the swan neck. See - I KNEW these people had to have an idea!! Since The Glenlivet just opened a new wing with new copper stills.....they had to EXACTLY duplicate the old ones.....meaning, any dent that existed in the old stills had to be ESACTLY replicated in the new stills. Can you imagine being the "Dent Hunter" and the "Dent Master". Just seems a little silly to think that much of a difference could be made....
As I mentioned - everything is totally computerized here. At the other places, a guy would measure the alcohol content in The Spirit Still by floating a thermometer or something. At The Glenlivet, it is done by "time". The Head is collected for 30 minutes, The Heart is collected for 2 hours and The Tail is collected for 3 hours or for the remaining liquid....just kinda soul-less.
There was a cool story about George Smith, the founder - but I took a picture of it and will remember it that way ;)) Short version....George made excellent whisky that everybody liked in 1823. The King tried it, liked it and wanted George to make more; so he issued him a license. This meant all the authorities were nosing around, poking their snouts into all the local business....which made the locals mad. They threatened and threatened 'ole George until the Laird of Abelore gave George 2 pistols to protect himself. George slept with these pistols every night. End of story. I'd personally like to have more than 2 pistols to protect myself from angry Highlanders.
Apparently, the whisky people don't "Cask" a whisky with the date of maturation already in mind. They decide this - or rather, the master taster does this - after it has been aging for a bit. Then, it will either continue to age for 12, 15, 16, 18, etc. We got to see a cask that has been in the cave since 1962...they estimate that only 1/4 of the cask is left and that the bottles will retail for over 15,000L (that is over $20,000) each. AND you don't even know if the whisky is GOOD!! Finally, the temperature is not controlled at all in the stone buildings used as warehouses. The stone keeps them a pretty neutral temperature at all times of the year....I think that is just crazy talk!!!
We enjoyed The Glenlivet so much that we had 3 different groups overtake us. Yes, we asked questions...Yes, I am my mother's child. I want to know cool little tidbits for cool little conversations later in my life!!
I will end this post with the following "dirty" comment. As I mentioned that I drove past the village of Cockermouth in TLD...the Whisky industry was clearly not thinking when it named some of its terminology....
When you drill the hole into a cask, it is called The Bung Hole.
The cork you put in said hole is called The Butt Plug.
If whisky leeks out of the hole, it is called Butt Seepage.
COME ON, PEOPLE!!!!!
Next up....Fun Facts and Funnies about Scotland, courtesy of our wonderful, handsome Scotsman driver, Eric....
Driven to Drink....
I know it has been a couple of days since I promised the Scotland posts - so much has happened and I just never seemed to find a down moment to write....
Alright, readers - this is another fair warning, like my child rant, for those of you not interested in Whisky. I think I'm going to do 3 postings about my time on the Whisky Trail - which is arguably the highlight of the trip so far (as I knew it would be!!) The first will be about the mechanics of making Whisky - which is really quite fascinating even if you don't like the "Liquid Gold", the second will be about the individual distilleries that I visited and some little gems along the way, and the third, will cover all the facts and funnies that happened...and there were quite a few!
First up - Whisky. A little personal background before we begin. My mother was not a big drinker - and that is pushing an understatement. She enjoyed a glass of White Zinfandel (Beringer's, if you please) in her later years but never touched "the hard stuff". I grew up hearing Scotch referred to as "horrible stuff". Don't forget to draw out the "rrr's" in this - HARRR-ible to be phonetically/Sarah C. Bayrd proper. It wasn't until I moved to Portland that I had my first real taste of Scotch, to which - I gazed quizzically at the glass and thought...."Oh my, this is not bad...in fact, it's better than "not bad"...it's pretty damn good!!" As I was talking to my Aunt some months later, she heard the clinking of ice cubes and asked me what I was drinking. Before you think it - yes, I knew then and now DEFINITELY know that whisky (as it will be referred to from now on) is never to be had with ice - this locks in the flavor and numbs the tongue, rather than just a "wee" drop of water to "open" it up. When I replied "Scotch" - ok, just this one last time - she laughed when I told her I really liked it. Her reply was, "Duh, Beth...you're Scottish". The angels sang out from my soul as I heard this...."I'm Scottish??!! Really?!" She proceeded to tell me that my mother's maiden name of Caskey used to be McCaskey before it was shortened to Anglicanize it. Visions of kilts and tartans and thistles swam in front of my eyes as I heard William Wallace bellowing "Freedom" in my ears (more on Mr. Wallace later in the 3rd section). We Americans always want to know about our roots - none of us wants to be exactly what we are....mutts. Regardless - I may only be a part Scottish, but I'm going to hang onto that bucking bronco as long as I can!!
So - back to the Whisky. I have always wanted to go on a Whisky Tasting Tour of Scotland, so this was high on the list of "Must Dos" when planning this trip. After being in Edinburgh for 2 dreary, rainy days....it was (ok, the bugs are already eating on me on my balcony...but they will not win!!) time to meet the coach for the tour. Our wonderful driver Eric escorted everybody onto the mini-bus/coach...whatever - introduced himself and gave us the do's and don'ts for the trip. We were a small group of only 7. This was a welcome change from TLD tour of 16. It also meant that we were going to get to know each other pretty well on our 3 day trip. Looking around, I scoped everyone out and figured it was a decent mix of people...about what I expected, save 1 person. A red-headed kid that looked like Prince Harry.....it couldn't be....could it?? I didn't hear him speak for hours, but he turned out to be Australian. Darn it...my Kate Middleton/Younger Man dream died right there (KIDDING!!) I was happy to discover that 2 of the couples turned out to be American - 1 couple from Houston and 1 couple from Virginia Beach (but originally from Seattle - kindred beer spirits). The one other person was Irish but living in Edinburgh. All in all, a solid group of people with different life experiences.
We motored through the Grampian Mountains which cover 1/3 of Scotland and contain the 2nd highest peak in Britain. These are Glacier carved mountains meaning they are slightly more rounded than Volcanic ones. With the sound of bagpipes playing, we admired the Bonnie Purple Heather just getting ready to bloom and were treated to our first glimpse of the sun. Alright, I did say this first posting would only be about Whisky, so I guess I better get to it, huh? We pulled up to Dalwhinnie - population 50 - scrambled off the coach, eager to get the tasting underway. Oh yeah, we first had to "suffer" through a tour :)
The tour was conducted by this poncey little guy named Jamie that couldn't have been more than 20 years old, but he sure thought highly of himself and at least (to my novice ears) sounded like he knew what he was talking about....
So....ahem....The Whisky
There are 3 core ingredients to Whisky...
1. Water - to be a Speyside Whisky, the water must be sourced from either the Spey or one of its tributaries
2. Yeast - many distilleries have yeast made to their specifications
3. Barley - generally sourced locally
1st - to begin the process, your raw barley must be malted, that is, germinated to convert the starches in each grain into soluble sugars. The barley is steeped in water for 2-3 days, then spread on a malting floor, left in a warm, dry environment for about 5 days, where it is turned frequently. After about a week, when green shoots have appeared, the germination is stopped, by drying the now "green malt". This drying can be done several ways and each distillery does it differently - it can be blast dried with air, smoke dried with peat or a combination of both. Peat is the wonderful decayed plant matter Scots dig out of the ground right before it turns into coal. Once dried, the malting process is complete and its time for the malt to be put through a mill where it is ground into Grist. Again, each distillery has their own specification for their Grist....Grist looks like ground up granola....some chunks left in it and some of it very fine like flour.
2nd - the next part is Brewing and is split into 2 stages (kinda like the Malting). The first stage is "Mashing". The Grist and Hot water, at temperatures between 63-68 degrees Celsius is added to a HUGE contraption called a Mash Tun where water is generally added in 3 stages at increasing temperatures in most distilleries. Revolving paddles stir the mix for several hours - these paddles move at an absolute snail's pace...like, 1 mph. The water added is hot to dissolve the sugars that became present in the malting process. The Mash Tun has a perforated bottom where the water from this soaking process is drawn off - the liquid is called "Wort" and doesn't contain any alcohol....it is just sweet (we got to taste it!). The leftover grist on the bottom is called "Draff" and cannot be used again - it will go to make cattle feed. So much of the Whisky making process is about reusing and recycling which was really cool to see in action.
Alright - the 2nd part of stage 2 is now up.....Fermentation. After the "wort" has cooled, it is put into another set of HUGE containers called "Wash Backs" whereupon yeast is now added. Fermentation now officially begins and can take up to 2 days to complete. Basically, the yeast just needs time to eat all the sugar in the wort. What you are left with at the end of this process is called "Wash". Get it - you get Wash from the Wash Back - and it tastes "NASTY" (picture my Mom saying this one as well...withe a big "ooooooo"). The alcohol content is low at this point, only 8% or so. This lines us up for the 3rd part of our distillation process.....
3. Distillation - YAY!!! Malt Whisky (the good stuff) - is usually distilled twice, in copper pot stills - a Wash Still and a Spirit Still. These things look like big, copper Hershey Kisses. Every distillery has a different shape to their stills b/c the size and shape affect the character of the Whisky. We first heard that "nobody knew" why this was, but I called "Bullshit" and was later proven right. Ok - the wash (not like your laundry wash) is pumped into the larger Wash Still and is then heated from below up to about 80 degrees Celsius. As the alcoholic vapours (you like that British "u" used, don't ya?) rise and pass over the neck of the still (this would be the little piece of paper sticking out of the Kiss), they condense. This collected liquid - now officially termed, "The Low Wines", is moved over to the other still - The Spirit Still....where the exact same process happens again - heating, vapourizing, condensing. This is where things get really cool in the Whisky business - well, cool to me...there is definitely more cool stuff later!! The resulting liquid from the 2nd process in the Spirit Still goes into this awesome thing called "The Spirit Safe" where the alcohol content is measured and given some cool names.....oh, if I could only remember the Scottish ones....oh well - I'll try...
1. The Head (the foreshots, I think) - this stuff is too high in alcohol - 80%-90% - in other words....Moonshine!
2. The Heart - this is the "good stuff" - around 50%-60% - this will be used for our finished product.
3. The Tail (the feint) - this is too low in alcohol - 25%-30%
Here is where reusing and recycling will come into play - the stuff not used - i.e. The Head and The Tail will be (OK, the light on the Atlantic is absolutely gorgeous right now....jeeeeezzz!!! I'm almost too mesmerized to write.) - The Head and The Tail will be mixed with the next batch of "Low Wines" and put into the Spirit Still for another go 'round. This can be done 5 different times - so, all the "bad" alcohol is eventually turned into "good " alcohol....i.e. Whisky or "Liquid Gold"
However, we're not quite done yet!! But don't worry, we're almost there....
Lastly...we have - drumroll, please....
4. Maturation - The Heart is finally ready to go to its little home - aka - the cask; oak to be precise for, a minimum of 3 years. Whisky is clear when it goes into the cask and gets 100% of its color and 60% of its flavor from the maturation process. In other words, this is a critical point. The wood - American oak - is used to make the casks for the Bourbon Industry, and for the Spanish maturation of Sherry. Bourbon and Whisky are intimately involved with each other. By law, a Bourbon cask can only be used ONCE (I have got to look up why...something tells me $$ changed hands) - so Scotland gets all (well, almost all) their barrels/casks (I'll explain the difference in a subsequent post) from the American Bourbon Industry. By law (again), the whisky must mature in casks for 3 years. During the maturation process, the residual flavour of the Bourbon, plus the compounds of the wood (vanilla, honey, etc.) enhance the aroma and flavour of the whisky. Most single malts are allowed to mature for over 10 years before bottling. As each year goes by, we wouldn't want to forget that this is a product from God - so 2% of the overall volume in each cask is lost per year to evaporation....and is called....The Angel's Share. When you go into a whisky cave - the delicious smell that hits you is just that....The Angels enjoying their take!! No wonder they always have smiles on their faces - mystery solved.
So, my friends - there you have it....the Whisky Making/Distillation Process...in a nutshell (ha ha). I know this was a long read, but each of the different tours was fascinating in their own way - even though the process was same at each......well, almost.....but that is Post, numero dos....coming at you soon!!!
I welcome any of my new friends, who were on the tour with me, to correct me in the comments section of the blog - should anything be inaccurate. They will laugh at this since I was the Little Girl Taking Notes the entire time...eager not to forget or miss a single fact!
Gonna enjoy the "sunset" for a bit (yes, I know it sets in the West)...and recover my "flow" with a little vino....
Alright, readers - this is another fair warning, like my child rant, for those of you not interested in Whisky. I think I'm going to do 3 postings about my time on the Whisky Trail - which is arguably the highlight of the trip so far (as I knew it would be!!) The first will be about the mechanics of making Whisky - which is really quite fascinating even if you don't like the "Liquid Gold", the second will be about the individual distilleries that I visited and some little gems along the way, and the third, will cover all the facts and funnies that happened...and there were quite a few!
First up - Whisky. A little personal background before we begin. My mother was not a big drinker - and that is pushing an understatement. She enjoyed a glass of White Zinfandel (Beringer's, if you please) in her later years but never touched "the hard stuff". I grew up hearing Scotch referred to as "horrible stuff". Don't forget to draw out the "rrr's" in this - HARRR-ible to be phonetically/Sarah C. Bayrd proper. It wasn't until I moved to Portland that I had my first real taste of Scotch, to which - I gazed quizzically at the glass and thought...."Oh my, this is not bad...in fact, it's better than "not bad"...it's pretty damn good!!" As I was talking to my Aunt some months later, she heard the clinking of ice cubes and asked me what I was drinking. Before you think it - yes, I knew then and now DEFINITELY know that whisky (as it will be referred to from now on) is never to be had with ice - this locks in the flavor and numbs the tongue, rather than just a "wee" drop of water to "open" it up. When I replied "Scotch" - ok, just this one last time - she laughed when I told her I really liked it. Her reply was, "Duh, Beth...you're Scottish". The angels sang out from my soul as I heard this...."I'm Scottish??!! Really?!" She proceeded to tell me that my mother's maiden name of Caskey used to be McCaskey before it was shortened to Anglicanize it. Visions of kilts and tartans and thistles swam in front of my eyes as I heard William Wallace bellowing "Freedom" in my ears (more on Mr. Wallace later in the 3rd section). We Americans always want to know about our roots - none of us wants to be exactly what we are....mutts. Regardless - I may only be a part Scottish, but I'm going to hang onto that bucking bronco as long as I can!!
So - back to the Whisky. I have always wanted to go on a Whisky Tasting Tour of Scotland, so this was high on the list of "Must Dos" when planning this trip. After being in Edinburgh for 2 dreary, rainy days....it was (ok, the bugs are already eating on me on my balcony...but they will not win!!) time to meet the coach for the tour. Our wonderful driver Eric escorted everybody onto the mini-bus/coach...whatever - introduced himself and gave us the do's and don'ts for the trip. We were a small group of only 7. This was a welcome change from TLD tour of 16. It also meant that we were going to get to know each other pretty well on our 3 day trip. Looking around, I scoped everyone out and figured it was a decent mix of people...about what I expected, save 1 person. A red-headed kid that looked like Prince Harry.....it couldn't be....could it?? I didn't hear him speak for hours, but he turned out to be Australian. Darn it...my Kate Middleton/Younger Man dream died right there (KIDDING!!) I was happy to discover that 2 of the couples turned out to be American - 1 couple from Houston and 1 couple from Virginia Beach (but originally from Seattle - kindred beer spirits). The one other person was Irish but living in Edinburgh. All in all, a solid group of people with different life experiences.
We motored through the Grampian Mountains which cover 1/3 of Scotland and contain the 2nd highest peak in Britain. These are Glacier carved mountains meaning they are slightly more rounded than Volcanic ones. With the sound of bagpipes playing, we admired the Bonnie Purple Heather just getting ready to bloom and were treated to our first glimpse of the sun. Alright, I did say this first posting would only be about Whisky, so I guess I better get to it, huh? We pulled up to Dalwhinnie - population 50 - scrambled off the coach, eager to get the tasting underway. Oh yeah, we first had to "suffer" through a tour :)
The tour was conducted by this poncey little guy named Jamie that couldn't have been more than 20 years old, but he sure thought highly of himself and at least (to my novice ears) sounded like he knew what he was talking about....
So....ahem....The Whisky
There are 3 core ingredients to Whisky...
1. Water - to be a Speyside Whisky, the water must be sourced from either the Spey or one of its tributaries
2. Yeast - many distilleries have yeast made to their specifications
3. Barley - generally sourced locally
1st - to begin the process, your raw barley must be malted, that is, germinated to convert the starches in each grain into soluble sugars. The barley is steeped in water for 2-3 days, then spread on a malting floor, left in a warm, dry environment for about 5 days, where it is turned frequently. After about a week, when green shoots have appeared, the germination is stopped, by drying the now "green malt". This drying can be done several ways and each distillery does it differently - it can be blast dried with air, smoke dried with peat or a combination of both. Peat is the wonderful decayed plant matter Scots dig out of the ground right before it turns into coal. Once dried, the malting process is complete and its time for the malt to be put through a mill where it is ground into Grist. Again, each distillery has their own specification for their Grist....Grist looks like ground up granola....some chunks left in it and some of it very fine like flour.
2nd - the next part is Brewing and is split into 2 stages (kinda like the Malting). The first stage is "Mashing". The Grist and Hot water, at temperatures between 63-68 degrees Celsius is added to a HUGE contraption called a Mash Tun where water is generally added in 3 stages at increasing temperatures in most distilleries. Revolving paddles stir the mix for several hours - these paddles move at an absolute snail's pace...like, 1 mph. The water added is hot to dissolve the sugars that became present in the malting process. The Mash Tun has a perforated bottom where the water from this soaking process is drawn off - the liquid is called "Wort" and doesn't contain any alcohol....it is just sweet (we got to taste it!). The leftover grist on the bottom is called "Draff" and cannot be used again - it will go to make cattle feed. So much of the Whisky making process is about reusing and recycling which was really cool to see in action.
Alright - the 2nd part of stage 2 is now up.....Fermentation. After the "wort" has cooled, it is put into another set of HUGE containers called "Wash Backs" whereupon yeast is now added. Fermentation now officially begins and can take up to 2 days to complete. Basically, the yeast just needs time to eat all the sugar in the wort. What you are left with at the end of this process is called "Wash". Get it - you get Wash from the Wash Back - and it tastes "NASTY" (picture my Mom saying this one as well...withe a big "ooooooo"). The alcohol content is low at this point, only 8% or so. This lines us up for the 3rd part of our distillation process.....
3. Distillation - YAY!!! Malt Whisky (the good stuff) - is usually distilled twice, in copper pot stills - a Wash Still and a Spirit Still. These things look like big, copper Hershey Kisses. Every distillery has a different shape to their stills b/c the size and shape affect the character of the Whisky. We first heard that "nobody knew" why this was, but I called "Bullshit" and was later proven right. Ok - the wash (not like your laundry wash) is pumped into the larger Wash Still and is then heated from below up to about 80 degrees Celsius. As the alcoholic vapours (you like that British "u" used, don't ya?) rise and pass over the neck of the still (this would be the little piece of paper sticking out of the Kiss), they condense. This collected liquid - now officially termed, "The Low Wines", is moved over to the other still - The Spirit Still....where the exact same process happens again - heating, vapourizing, condensing. This is where things get really cool in the Whisky business - well, cool to me...there is definitely more cool stuff later!! The resulting liquid from the 2nd process in the Spirit Still goes into this awesome thing called "The Spirit Safe" where the alcohol content is measured and given some cool names.....oh, if I could only remember the Scottish ones....oh well - I'll try...
1. The Head (the foreshots, I think) - this stuff is too high in alcohol - 80%-90% - in other words....Moonshine!
2. The Heart - this is the "good stuff" - around 50%-60% - this will be used for our finished product.
3. The Tail (the feint) - this is too low in alcohol - 25%-30%
Here is where reusing and recycling will come into play - the stuff not used - i.e. The Head and The Tail will be (OK, the light on the Atlantic is absolutely gorgeous right now....jeeeeezzz!!! I'm almost too mesmerized to write.) - The Head and The Tail will be mixed with the next batch of "Low Wines" and put into the Spirit Still for another go 'round. This can be done 5 different times - so, all the "bad" alcohol is eventually turned into "good " alcohol....i.e. Whisky or "Liquid Gold"
However, we're not quite done yet!! But don't worry, we're almost there....
Lastly...we have - drumroll, please....
4. Maturation - The Heart is finally ready to go to its little home - aka - the cask; oak to be precise for, a minimum of 3 years. Whisky is clear when it goes into the cask and gets 100% of its color and 60% of its flavor from the maturation process. In other words, this is a critical point. The wood - American oak - is used to make the casks for the Bourbon Industry, and for the Spanish maturation of Sherry. Bourbon and Whisky are intimately involved with each other. By law, a Bourbon cask can only be used ONCE (I have got to look up why...something tells me $$ changed hands) - so Scotland gets all (well, almost all) their barrels/casks (I'll explain the difference in a subsequent post) from the American Bourbon Industry. By law (again), the whisky must mature in casks for 3 years. During the maturation process, the residual flavour of the Bourbon, plus the compounds of the wood (vanilla, honey, etc.) enhance the aroma and flavour of the whisky. Most single malts are allowed to mature for over 10 years before bottling. As each year goes by, we wouldn't want to forget that this is a product from God - so 2% of the overall volume in each cask is lost per year to evaporation....and is called....The Angel's Share. When you go into a whisky cave - the delicious smell that hits you is just that....The Angels enjoying their take!! No wonder they always have smiles on their faces - mystery solved.
So, my friends - there you have it....the Whisky Making/Distillation Process...in a nutshell (ha ha). I know this was a long read, but each of the different tours was fascinating in their own way - even though the process was same at each......well, almost.....but that is Post, numero dos....coming at you soon!!!
I welcome any of my new friends, who were on the tour with me, to correct me in the comments section of the blog - should anything be inaccurate. They will laugh at this since I was the Little Girl Taking Notes the entire time...eager not to forget or miss a single fact!
Gonna enjoy the "sunset" for a bit (yes, I know it sets in the West)...and recover my "flow" with a little vino....
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