Holy Island

On Monday we visited Holy Island, where the Lindisfarne Gospels originated.

Holy Island can only be accessed by a 2-mile causeway during low tide.

This is a statue of St. Aidan, one of the early monks on Holy Island. SAZ says she likes to believe he's holding a holy morel in his hand. I tossed a coin into that little well in front of his statue since I missed out on my wishes at the Trevi and Swan Fountains.

Near the water we found many old boats and many of these converted boat sheds. Cool, yeah?

This is a fuzzy picture of a wooden statue that I find absolutely fascinating in the parish church on Holy Island. It's really large and quite startling to encounter when walking in the door.

Picture Catch Up

Kirsten and the Coordinatrix hiking to Culag Woods in Lochinver. It was so green.

The view from the lake at Culag Woods

I like to take pictures of Kirsten taking pictures. I have lots.

The Iron Bridge -- This was the first cast iron bridge and the valley where it was built was the cradle of the Industrial Revolution.

The view from the road to our B&B in Keswick

I visited the Castlerigg Stone Circle near Keswick. When we arrived, there was some sort of ceremony with hand-holding and chanting and rock hugging going on.

Sitting on some fort ruins on Hadrian's Wall. We ate our lunch here and the entire time I thought about how funny it was that I was munching a sandwich on what was once a hugely fortified military structure. Ha ha, Romans!

I've never seen tug-of-war as an event in the highland games in the States. It's surprisingly fantastic. The participants literally dig their heels into the ground and then there's a man standing to the side for each team and his job is to turn red in the face yelling for them to pull together.

The Highlands

A little bit of magic allowed me to upload three pictures. The computer still won't upload my highland cow!

A view down from the Old Man of Storr on the Isle of Skye. Can you see the three sheep down there?

Views from the Isle of Skye

My Favorite Part of Edinburgh Castle

The historical exhibit about the Honours, the Scottish crown jewels, is very good and takes approximately five billion years to peruse with all the crowds of people frantic to see the goods. So, I was there yesterday and a group of little Scottish boys (probably 9-years-old) came into the actual chamber with the jewels right after I did and had this conversation with the kilted guard who looked pained to be working there (imagine this all in a Scottish accent--it's better that way):

Little Boy: What's this? (bear in mind that the exhibit ABOUT the jewels and Stone of Scone that precedes the actual artifacts is VERY long)

Long-Suffering Guard: That's the Stone of Destiny.

Little Boy: Oh. (pause) Are there spirits in the castle?

Long-Suffering Guard: Don' know. None that I've seen.

Little Boy: Do you think the spirits come out at night?

Long-Suffering Guard: They could do.

Little Boy: And haunt people?

And that's when I escaped the jewel chamber, but I left deeply amused.

Quick Update

What we've been up to:

• Attended Highland Games in Portree - In response to friends' questions about how the Scots wear their kilts at the games: the competitors in the local games wear jeans
• Hiked the Old Man of Storr on the Isle of Skye
• Had very pleasant breakfast conversation about American politics with minister from the Orkney Islands at our beautiful B&B in Duror
• Visited the MOST beautiful tiny village (I really mean it this time) in the northwest corner of Scotland. Coordinatrix eaten up by midges.
• Stayed with a friend from Indiana in St. Andrews area. She may be the coolest person I know and her food is very, very good.
• Ate delicious fish and chips by the sea
• Visited four castles, two churches, and three cemeteries on Castle Party Day with tiny dog wearing raincoat
• Scottish computers continue to refuse access to pictures on my camera

Scotland's Good Too

The Coordinatrix and I made our way to Scotland on Monday. I navigated us to Hadrian's Wall by way of Gretna Green. Look at a map. That's really astonishingly bad work. All the same, we managed to find Kirsten in Edinburgh and the three of us are in the Highlands this week.

I would have sworn that when I booked our hostel on the Isle of Skye I reserved three spots in a female dorm, but we'd only been back from dinner about half an hour before the three French guys we'd just encountered in the cafe showed up in our room and started making themselves at home.

I'll post pictures of the Highland Games in Portree and the many castles and the gorgeous scenery we've been seeing, when I get to a computer that will cooperate. We've been in the car a LOT this week. The Coordinatrix has gotten very good at driving and Kirsten's friend burned us a CD with 8 hours worth of music so we could escape the tyranny of the 5 pop songs played on a continuous loop on British radio. He put three hours worth of Camera Obscura on the CD, so I'm very pleased with our new soundtrack of Scotland. Whee!

I'm Never Coming Back

I've found my perfect place in life. We arrived in the Lake District yesterday evening and it is my favorite place. I realize that I describe everything on my trip as just. so. beautiful, but the Lake District is the realization of every idyllic vision of England a person could have. The hills are so green and they're criss-crossed with stone fences that keep in all the sheep. I love the sheep! Especially the little black ones. I'll post pictures when I can.

We're staying on a farm outside Keswick. The farmhouse was built in the 17th century and the big wooden beams still cross the ceiling in the sitting room. Our bedroom looks out onto sheep and mountains. This morning we got sent off full of hot English breakfast--eggs and bacon and sausage and tomatoes and mushrooms and toast.

We attended church in Workington today (on the west coast of England) after getting thoroughly lost and having to ask directions of the locals. Once we actually arrived, they absolutely loved us up there. They hugged us and gave us candy and begged us to stay and one man offered to take me to Gretna Green and marry me. Amid the lovefest, I had this conversation with a group of older people, which I found amusing:

Kindly British Person: Oh, you could stay here. You could come stay with us. If you stay, you can have whatever you want!

MBC: I want a sheep farm with a sheep dog and some wellies to wear.

Kindly British Person: We can arrange that!

MBC: And I need a husband [put it out there when you have the chance in Britain].

Kindly British Person: We can get you one!

MBC: Can you? Because no one else has managed that.

KBP: (turning away from me) David! Where's David? (turning back) He's 28.

MBC: Oh, that would be okay (although older would be better)

Then the Kindly British Person and another person in the group conjectured over how much David had been kissed in his past and they finally decided between them that however much he'd been kissed, he could marry me. David himself did not get to weigh in on this because he was on the other side of the room bouncing little boys on his knees.