Day 6: Stirling
"He who holds Stirling holds Scotland."
Our last day in Edinburgh was spent walking up to the little village of Cramond located on the coast and then out to an island at low tide. We ate lunch looking out on the water, basking in the sunlight which was only to remain till about noon when it began to pour. By that time, I had found a pub in town that offered free wireless internet.
I really can’t understand why wireless internet is not free everywhere you go. For once in my life I am up-to-date with technology and the rest of the world is lagging behind. I sat in the bar for several hours catching up on blog posts, emails, and anything else I could think of that required the use of the net and then I caught my 4:30 train to Stirling.
The train ride only takes about 50 minutes and it really wasn’t that spectacular. I exchanged glances with a cute young Scottish lass located a few rows ahead of me, but didn’t have the energy to strike up conversation. I have this worry that I will return from Europe and everyone will expect me to have met many Europeans, but I really don’t have the time, nor the desire to try and really befriend the people I casually meet, which is the case for my personality in general.
In Stirling, I began my routine of ‘okay, time to get acquainted with this town and figure out their tacky, cartoon-looking maps which really aren’t all that helpful.’ Stirling Castle is located on a hill from which you can see for miles in all directions. The hostel was about two blocks from the Castle and a 30 second walk from the Church of the Holy Rude, the church where James VI, son of Mary Queen of Scots, was crowned King. His baptismal sermon was preached by John Knox.
The trek up the hill with my luggage was no fun, but everything in the city is relatively close. After dropping our stuff off at the hostel, we cruised the city, figuring out what there was to do for our day out tomorrow and scoping for a place to eat. We settled on a Kebab shack. Burger and chips. I still can’t picture myself ordering something called a “Doner Kebab.”
We went back the hostel. Read for a bit. This Jack Kerouac book is slowly getting more interesting, though I can’t tell if that is just because I am used to it or if it is actually getting better. The hostel was once a church building and the room we are staying in accommodates four, but the other two haven’t arrived, so that makes for a nicer stay. It turns out we would be the only two all night.
Checkout was 9:30. Our first stop was Stirling Castle. It was an interesting place. Not quite what I expected. I suppose it was more “new.” Granted, what you see now is hundreds of years old, but it just felt newer than what I expected. It has been remodeled, added to, and worked on since its construction and therefore people like Wallace of the Bruce wouldn’t even recognize it today.
We had a guided tour through the castle and then caught the infamous “Hop-On Hop-Off” Bus to the rest of our stops for the day.
We passed Stirling Bridge, but didn’t really feel the need to get out. The National Wallace Monument is located on a hill to the northeast of the city and from it one gets one of the best views I have had in the UK thus far. Although a bit chilly, I got a wonderful view of the city, the castle, and the surrounding countryside. The monument is basically the memorial to Scotland’s famous freedom fighter, William Wallace. It is home to his preserved sword and the history of the man who became an immortal legend.
The Oxford program I was on really tried to demythologize Scottish history, especially as it concerned Wallace. But I think a trip to Stirling tore apart all the work they set out to do; I really feel that coming here has re-mythologized the great hero. I think at one point in the program, a lecturer said that “Braveheart is more a movie about America than about Scotland.” I don’t think I’m alone in the world in thinking that this is just nonsense. I don’t remember anyone in America’s history named William Wallace who was married to a girl named Marion. I also don’t remember America being oppressed by a King named Edward I (though we did throw off the yoke of that tyrant George III). No, I think Mel Gibson was trying to capture the myth of a great man. Coming to Stirling, one gets the impression that Wallace still captures the hearts of the Scots.
Our next stop was Bannockburn, the field where the Scots under the leadership of Robert I (the Bruce) fought and achieved independence from England in 1314, about a decade after Wallace’s execution. I loved Bannockburn. There is nothing there but a open fields and houses, but there is something numinous about the place. It sent a chill up my spine. It could have been from the cold, but I’d like to think that the story of men dying for liberty, their country, and other awesome stuff sends a surge of something electric through my spirit which hopes that I might do the same if called upon.
I am now ending my trip to Stirling in, of all places, a Burger King. They may not be the tyrant of countries, but they’re the tyrant of burgers because they give me 30 minutes free internet access with every purchase over 99P. Hold on! No, the manager just told me to unplug from their electrical socket cause he was worried about “liability.” I change my opinion, if I ever see the Burger King, I will fight him.
Our last day in Edinburgh was spent walking up to the little village of Cramond located on the coast and then out to an island at low tide. We ate lunch looking out on the water, basking in the sunlight which was only to remain till about noon when it began to pour. By that time, I had found a pub in town that offered free wireless internet.
I really can’t understand why wireless internet is not free everywhere you go. For once in my life I am up-to-date with technology and the rest of the world is lagging behind. I sat in the bar for several hours catching up on blog posts, emails, and anything else I could think of that required the use of the net and then I caught my 4:30 train to Stirling.
The train ride only takes about 50 minutes and it really wasn’t that spectacular. I exchanged glances with a cute young Scottish lass located a few rows ahead of me, but didn’t have the energy to strike up conversation. I have this worry that I will return from Europe and everyone will expect me to have met many Europeans, but I really don’t have the time, nor the desire to try and really befriend the people I casually meet, which is the case for my personality in general.
In Stirling, I began my routine of ‘okay, time to get acquainted with this town and figure out their tacky, cartoon-looking maps which really aren’t all that helpful.’ Stirling Castle is located on a hill from which you can see for miles in all directions. The hostel was about two blocks from the Castle and a 30 second walk from the Church of the Holy Rude, the church where James VI, son of Mary Queen of Scots, was crowned King. His baptismal sermon was preached by John Knox.
The trek up the hill with my luggage was no fun, but everything in the city is relatively close. After dropping our stuff off at the hostel, we cruised the city, figuring out what there was to do for our day out tomorrow and scoping for a place to eat. We settled on a Kebab shack. Burger and chips. I still can’t picture myself ordering something called a “Doner Kebab.”
We went back the hostel. Read for a bit. This Jack Kerouac book is slowly getting more interesting, though I can’t tell if that is just because I am used to it or if it is actually getting better. The hostel was once a church building and the room we are staying in accommodates four, but the other two haven’t arrived, so that makes for a nicer stay. It turns out we would be the only two all night.
Checkout was 9:30. Our first stop was Stirling Castle. It was an interesting place. Not quite what I expected. I suppose it was more “new.” Granted, what you see now is hundreds of years old, but it just felt newer than what I expected. It has been remodeled, added to, and worked on since its construction and therefore people like Wallace of the Bruce wouldn’t even recognize it today.
We had a guided tour through the castle and then caught the infamous “Hop-On Hop-Off” Bus to the rest of our stops for the day.
We passed Stirling Bridge, but didn’t really feel the need to get out. The National Wallace Monument is located on a hill to the northeast of the city and from it one gets one of the best views I have had in the UK thus far. Although a bit chilly, I got a wonderful view of the city, the castle, and the surrounding countryside. The monument is basically the memorial to Scotland’s famous freedom fighter, William Wallace. It is home to his preserved sword and the history of the man who became an immortal legend.
The Oxford program I was on really tried to demythologize Scottish history, especially as it concerned Wallace. But I think a trip to Stirling tore apart all the work they set out to do; I really feel that coming here has re-mythologized the great hero. I think at one point in the program, a lecturer said that “Braveheart is more a movie about America than about Scotland.” I don’t think I’m alone in the world in thinking that this is just nonsense. I don’t remember anyone in America’s history named William Wallace who was married to a girl named Marion. I also don’t remember America being oppressed by a King named Edward I (though we did throw off the yoke of that tyrant George III). No, I think Mel Gibson was trying to capture the myth of a great man. Coming to Stirling, one gets the impression that Wallace still captures the hearts of the Scots.
Our next stop was Bannockburn, the field where the Scots under the leadership of Robert I (the Bruce) fought and achieved independence from England in 1314, about a decade after Wallace’s execution. I loved Bannockburn. There is nothing there but a open fields and houses, but there is something numinous about the place. It sent a chill up my spine. It could have been from the cold, but I’d like to think that the story of men dying for liberty, their country, and other awesome stuff sends a surge of something electric through my spirit which hopes that I might do the same if called upon.
I am now ending my trip to Stirling in, of all places, a Burger King. They may not be the tyrant of countries, but they’re the tyrant of burgers because they give me 30 minutes free internet access with every purchase over 99P. Hold on! No, the manager just told me to unplug from their electrical socket cause he was worried about “liability.” I change my opinion, if I ever see the Burger King, I will fight him.
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