rootless

On the northern tip of the British Isle is the proud and beautiful land of the Scots

A land where bagpipes and golf go hand in hand.  A land with castles and lochs where ghosts and monsters live.  And even if the sky is gray with rain clouds most of the year, the ground is covered with purple flowering heather mile after
glorious mile.

The capital city of Edinburgh lies on the east coast……

 

and high atop its tallest hill is the castle

At this castle in the sky, the Scots have a Military Tattoo

But not this kind of tattoo.  Actually the term tattoo is a practice of playing a type of signal by the military with musical instruments that told the local tavern owners to turn off the taps or tap toe (pronounced too and meaning to shut-down) so the soldiers partying would return to quarters once the flow of booze was no longer available.

The Tattoo in Edinburgh looks like this..

but if you don’t like bagpipes and  crowds,

don’t go.

Aberdeen

Continuing to travel north on the east coast and looking out over the North Sea, we come to the Granite City, Aberdeen.  Added to fishing as the major industry, oil was discovered and drilled in the 70’s. 

In 1308 Robert the Bruce won Aberdeen’s independence from the English; with that victory this has been a harbor for over 850 years

Also known as the Gray City due to the color of the granite so abundant in the area and used as the primary building material.

 

 

 

 

The old market square bears the Mercat (or market) Cross.

 

In a small old Anglican church near downtown, St Andrews, we find a tie to the U.S.  Apparently the bishop of the Episcopal (the American version of Anglican) is from Aberdeen and St Andrews.  They are very proud of that affiliation and display it within the wall of their church.

Just down the street from St Andrews is the Aberdeenshire Historical Society.  We paid them a visit to see if we could gain any more information on our Scottish family ties.  Several years ago, Ron had received an invitation to a family/clan reunion from the Leslie Clan as Lassley is another spelling of the name and therefore a branch of the clan.

We were able to find vital statistic records as well as verification of the location of the village of Leslie, not too many miles north of Aberdeen.  So off to the nearest train stop in the village of Insch.  Ron had arranged for the village’s taxi to meet us and give us a ride to Leslie.  Ian, the extremely gracious driver, knew exactly where to take us and we were able to visit the family home (castle - rather).

 

 

There is no place like home…..

There is no place like home

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on December 17th, 2009 by dianagene
Filed under: Europe Trip