Here the three old friends prepare to set out in a
shrunken version of our 2000 Dodge Caravan.
Actually, quite roomy.
Here an unidentified senior citizen learns to drive
on the left (wrong) side of the road. No tickets,
No crashes, only a few horn blasts. Thanks to
three dedicated and opinionated backseat drivers.
Esther's first glimpse of Callendar House.
Being informed there was no back rent available,
we settled for a family portrait by the front door.
The backside of the House looks over a large
yard and park area.
Had the ancestors been more politically adroit,
these fine lads might have learned soccer and
cricket on this fine lawn, then again, maybe not.
Falkirk, while not particularly noted for its
clockmaking industry, historically was the
industrial center of the area.
Another room in the Callendar House displayed
typical dry goods and other items that could be
found in a general store.
The 1820's style Georgian kitchen is a working
kitchen creating meals and pastries every day.
This young lady stokes the coal fired hearth,
bakes the pastries and roasts the meats, using
authentic utensils and equipment.
The printer, shown beside his working printing
press, produces handbills, broadsides, and
The elegant Morning Room has been restored to
its original extravagant splendor.
The Callendar Estate is being preserved, utilized,
and developed. The House has been preserved.
Much of the grounds are utilized as a public park
and children's playground...
and large sections of the former grounds are being
developed as housing and contain the Callendar
Supper at Ilario's in Kincardine provided the best
fish and chips of the trip and a fair amount of loud
fun and laughter from the Americans seated
behind us, who were attending the British Open.
A hearty Scottish breakfast prepared by our
hostess at the Four Winds B&B got us off to a
good start on our excursion into the Trossachs,
otherwise known as the Scottish Highlands.
Mrs. Corbett rules the Four Winds with humor
and good will. This lady has traveled the four
winds and has many tales and trinkets.
The Scottish Thistle is the proud symbol of
Scotland. This should not be confused with the
hated Russian Thistle of the Great Plains!
Here we see Doune Castle at the foot of the
highlands. We learned that any place name having
"doune", "doan" or "dun" is the site of a Roman
fortification. Note the scaffold; restoration is an
unending activity throughout Great Britain. They
seem to live quite a bit in the past. Maybe that is
because they have more of it than we do.
Erin is known to many of his friends as "Squirrel".
Someday he will be Dr. Squirrel. None of us
knew he had a quaint antique shoppe in Scotland.
The river Teith is clear, cold and lovely. The lads
decided to catch a few rays.
Loch Lubnaig a picturesque lake marked the
northernmost extent of our invasion of the British
Isles. From here on, we were on the way home.
The train trip from Edinburgh to London seemed
shorter than the other way. It was surely not as
crowded and the weather remained fair and fine.
A quick bite at an incredibly tacky establishment
in London was an attempt to prepare us for
re-experiencing what passes for culture in
Newark. The gentleman in the background slept
through it all.