At Aberdeen, we didn’t have a B&B, but stayed in an unusual suites hotel called Skene House. It was so unusual we missed it on our first couple of passes past where the GPS said it should be. Apparently, the hotel owners bought up a couple of blocks worth of adjacent townhomes, and converted the lot into suites. Each has its own entrance for the 4-6 suites it contains. The hotel “lobby” was all but invisible on a street front. Once found, this proved to be an excellent stay. Our “suite” had two large bedrooms, a small sitting room, shared bath, and a completely equipped large kitchen. And, you also could opt for breakfast in the dining room adjacent to the lobby. So it was sort of an extended B&B.
Note the lack of curtains or a surround on the tub/shower. All it has is a pane of plexiglass that extends from the faucets down to about half the length of the tub. The rest is open. You have to be really careful not to create a flood on the floor from the normal splashing of a shower. The Brits must be keen on these things, as we encountered them often.
We got some vague instructions from the desk about the location of nearby eateries, and set off on foot. About 4 or 5 blocks away was a fairly lively block or two of shops and restaurants. We were looking for something different, so chose an Indian place, Shabaaz Tandoori. I’m not usually a fan of Indian food, finding it here in the states to be one dreary potato mess after another, but I’d heard that the offerings in Britain were a notch above. That turned out to be true, at least for this place. It was almost packed, and we snagged the last available non-booked table. The menu, to all of us, was Greek, so after we tried to concoct a collection of dishes the server (an older gent who’d been at this a while) shook his head and said “you don’t want those dishes together, too many cream sauces.” He suggested we let him choose. This is usually an invitation to get fleeced on the highest cost items, but that didn’t happen. We had a great dinner of varied dishes, none of which were too hot (we had forewarned him). Don’t ask me what they were.
Next morning we awoke to ominous skies and cold temps. On the way to Braemar, and according to the car’s thermometer, we went through patches in the mid-30’s. Yikes! We got there plenty early. We’d thought there would be a traffic jam, but we had clear sailing, and parked in a large farm field, complete with cow/sheep pies and damp grass. We had to walk about a half mile into the town and to the field where the Games were held. Since we got there so early, the place was near deserted.
So, naturally, the shops beckoned. We went into a small place (just to look around – sure, Loni) and it actually had a nice selection of stuff, priced no worse than we had seen previously. Loni found me a tam in the Colquhoun plaid, or at least the plaid that I was familiar with. We hadn’t had much luck finding Colquhoun merchandise before, so this was a find. Although I couldn’t for the life of me think when/where I’d ever wear it, I bought it. As the proprietor was ringing it up, he mentioned that I’d selected one of the best. I told him he probably said that to all his customers. He smiled and replied, “Ah, no, it’s that I’m a Colquhoun myself.” Well, blow me down. So we had a nice chat about the ancestral grounds in Luss, and the fact that most clans had multiple tartans: classic, modern, dress, and, for the Colquhouns anyway, one called “weathered.” He had samples of each, and I found I much preferred the weathered look, more tans and greys than dark blues and greens. They only had the tam in the classic navy and green. I’ll say one thing for it, as I found out later in the day, it really keeps the head warm. Maybe I’ll use it on our camping trips when we sit around outside after dark. Along the main (actually, the only) drag, a pipe band contingent started up and began to parade towards the arena.
As far as kilts went, it seemed to be the youngsters and the oldsters who dolled up, with very few in-betweeners. I think the kids were in some organized group, like scouts.
The arena for the games was actually pretty low-key and reminded me of small-town rodeo venues we’ve visited in New Mexico and Utah. It didn’t have a “royal” feel at all. A bunch of temporary grandstands arranged in a loose circle, with a couple of permanent stands with roofs. We were later wishing we were under one of those. The games begin with qualifying heats and children’s competitions and move up to the big boys. Teams from various military units and local clubs vied in the tug-o-war, and repeat stalwarts from previous years competed in the strength and throwing contests. The sack race was a hoot. Note the tuggers carrying in their rope in the background.
OK, even I got tired of the pipes competitions. To my ear, they all sounded alike and they just stand there facing each other. Around noon, the prelims were over and the games began in earnest with the marching in, and around the circle, of the massed pipe bands, an impressive visual and sonic delight (even if you hate bagpipes, which I don’t). I have video of this, but for the life of me can’t figure out how to upload and incorporate it.
Those pinkish roofs are the coveted covered stands. To the left center is a greenish structure with what looks like a sod roof. That’s the Queen’s box, but she was nowhere to be seen. Probably home at Balmoral waiting out the expected rain. Because rain it did. That didn’t stop the competitions, they went on oblivious to the elements.
That patch of ground where the tuggers pull got muddier and muddier as the day went on, and the footing got pretty bad. These boys were serious.
The guys who throw these cabers would make an NFL lineman look weak. That’s a LOT of weight to toss end-over-end. Only a few were successful.
Unfortunately, we didn’t get to see the finals. That’s because our viewing started looking like this.
It wasn’t just the rain, we could handle that with our umbrellas and coats. But it was cold and wet. I got so cold I couldn’t stop shaking, and that’s hypothermia knocking at the door, so I told Chuck & Alice I was packing it in to head back to the car. Loni and I both left and did just that. I was hoping to stop in a pub or tea shop for something warming, but too many others had the same idea and they were so packed you couldn’t get in the door. About a half-hour later, Chuck and Alice also left and joined us at the car for a traffic-free exit from our sodden field. Good thing, too. Had we waited, that field would have been a quagmire from all the cars. We saw a car hopelessly stuck up to its hubcaps in an adjacent field.
So, we left without seeing the AWOL Queen. We later found out that she showed up just as the skies cleared a bit (natch), about an hour after we left (pic courtesy of BBC). She looks dry and happy. Hmmph.
No comments:
Post a Comment