The Scottish Trip.

The Scottish Chronicles I.

Later this afternoon, I'll be boarding a plane headed for Toronto, the first leg in a two-week vacation trip to Scotland, land of haggis, Scotch, kilts, and woad.*  As a bonus, I will have the unique privilege of travelling with one of the infamous Campbell brothers - yes, Cloin Campbell has decided that a visit to the auld sod (or by the auld sod, more accurately) is long overdue, and as such he has decided to make the pilgrimage to the homeland of the Campbell Clan.  He is certain that he will be greeted with open arms once his relatives are informed of his identity, although if I were him, I would more realistically keep an eye out for a carefully tied noose, all things considered.  

Sadly, Ralph Campbell will be unable to join us on this journey of discovery.  Until the authorities have stopped the manhunt** his bad back gets better, Ralph is reluctant to travel.  As a result, I'll be sitting in as an honourary Campbell brother (if we can use the word "honour" in relation to the Campbell Brothers) for the duration of the trip, a proud and awful responsibility.  I feel a bit as if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have just rung me to ask if I can sit in for Pestilence over the weekend.*** 

Seriously, though, it should be a great trip. Colin and I have travelled together before, and had a lot of fun doing it.  He's very excited - he's never been over to the UK, and isn't sure if he'll find an opportunity go again, so it's a milestone trip for him.  We're starting in Glasgow, spending some time touring around Stirling (located near the site of the historic battle of Bannockburn), then going to Edinburgh.  From there, we'll head down to London for the last three days, because it seemed a shame for Colin to not see the City when we're so close.  We'll also be making a brief stop at York, so that I can once again walk the Roman walls around the city in memory of my mother and grandfather, who used to do the same walk almost every day when they lived there.

Research for the trip has been fascinating.  Scotland offers a wealth of history and legend - we'll be visiting abbeys and altars, bastions and battlefields, castles and cathedrals, and perhaps a standing stone or two. When examining maps, I was enchanted by the Celtic poetry of the towns: Kilsyth, Falkirk, Fintr, Oldmeldrum, Findhorn and Nairn, like names from a fantasy novel; and was amused to discover that Argyll is close to Paisley, which, unless you're looking at Cloin's wardrobe, it really isn't.

I'm hoping to report in once or twice during the trip with appropriate postings, but can't guarantee anything, given the dubious track record of my travelling companion.  After all, if things work out the way I'm afraid they might, not only will I not have my iPad and internet access, they'll probably take my shoelaces and belt as well - right after they take our fingerprints.

- Sid

* We're renting a car, which will require that we drive on the wrong side of the woad.
 
** In this case, the authorities are everyone from the Vatican Guard to the Fashion Police - Ralph proudly cuts a wide swath.

*** Actually, it's more like Harpo and Groucho have asked me to replace Chico for a few hours, but you get the idea.  Certainly an awful responsibility, if maybe not that proud.