Beautiful Balmerino

On Sunday, after church, we drove to Hazelton Walls, where my great, great, great great grandparents lived in the 1850s, before they came to Australia. He was the town blacksmith (and his father had been to from the start of the century) she was the school teacher. We saw the place where their home once was, but it has been demolished, and was now an open field. Next we drove to Balmerino, where we saw the grave of my great, great, great, great, great grandmother, and the ruins of the old abbey, from the 13th century. Dad read us a poem by William McGonagall, widely considered the worst poet ever. The poem was called "Beautiful Balmerino," and began, "Beautiful Balmerino, on the bonnie banks of Tay, its a very bonnie spot in the months of June and May." 

At Janet Aitken's grave

After this we drove back to St Andrews, where we visited the ruined cathedral. There was a small museum there containing local archaeological finds. My favourite was a macabre gravestone with a picture of a skull, and a cautionary message written on it; "Remember man as you go by, as you are now, so once was I, As I am now so shall you be, prepare yourself to follow me."

At St Andrew's Cathedral

Edinburgh

Edinburgh Castle

On Saturday we caught the train down to Edinburgh to visit the castle, Greyfriars Kirk, and other attractions. First we walked from the station to Edinburgh castle, situated grandly on a hill overlooking all of the city and the surrounding countryside. We went on a short tour of the castle that introduced us to many of the buildings, before watching a performance of obscure medieval and renaissance instruments, including the hurdy gurdy, a 1000 year old string instrument that could play melody, harmony and rhythm simultaneously.

Hurdy Gurdy

Next we saw the Crown Jewels of Scotland, the second oldest on Earth. After Charles I's execution, and England's transition into a Republic, the Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell ordered the destruction of all Britain's Regalia. However, Scotland's survived, smuggled out from Dunottar castle to a parish church where they were hidden.

Greyfriar's Bobby

After Edinburgh castle we walked down to Greyfriar's Kirk, by request of Lydia, to visit the grave of Greyfriar's Bobby, a Skye Terrier famous for supposedly sitting beside his master's grave for 14 years. However, a more recent theory says that the dog was more likely a random stray who lived at the graveyard because of all the food and attention. Also, the original Bobby probably died 4 years before his "death" being replaced by a younger dog, thus explaining his longevity.
Afterwards I visited a fossil shop and bought a prehistoric whale tooth. On the way back to the station we visited the cafe where JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter, and stopped at a carousel for Lydia, arriving at the station just as it began to get dark.

On Thursday we drove to some of Scotland's fishing villages. First we travelled to Anstruther, where we had hot chips out in the cold and visited the fishing museum, which I found quite dull, but Lydia enjoyed. Finally we saw the cave of Saint Fillan, where the saint was said to write his sermons with the light of his magical glow-in-the-dark arm. The story was ridiculous, but the cave was interesting.

St Fillan's cave

The next day we drove to Loch Leven nature reserve. Upon arrival, we were all delighted to see our first ever red squirrel, Britain's only native squirrel. We went on a long walk up to the top of a hill overlooking the loch, with Lydia managing to walk the whole way without needing to be carried, 

Red Squirrel

Walking up the hill

next we visited some of the wetland hides and looked out for waterbirds. We saw a lot, but found them hard to identify in the rain. There was supposed to be a huge eagle on an island in the loch, but he never left the island, and as a result, we never saw him.

St Andrews

I spent the day after our arrival in Scotland lying miserably on the couch. The illness that had swept across our family had finally reached me, turning my day into a nightmare of pain and fever. However, as is often the case with these things, the next day I felt fit as a fiddle, and ready to explore St Andrews. We had morning tea at the cafe where Kate met Prince William, while they were students at St Andrews, before walking down to St Andrews Castle. Although now mostly ruins, the castle had a fascinating history that I loved learning about. The best part was the mine and countermine. During a castle siege, in the 16th century, the besieging forces had decided to dig a tunnel under the castle walls, and mine it with gunpowder. However, the forces under siege started digging countermines, trying to cut off the mine before it reached the castle. After three failed attempts, eventually their plan succeeded, and the mine was intercepted. We got to walked down into the mine through the countermine, and explore the old tunnel. The countermine was very claustrophobic, only 3 and a half feet square, with a steep and uneven floor. The mine itself was more spacious.

Inside the countermine

York

On Monday, after a troubled sleep we awoke and explored nearby York. We walked along the York walls, that once surrounded the old town, and visited the Yorkshire museum. Walking along the walls reminded me of walking through Cambridge in the Winter, and seeing all the familiar birds was also a bonus. There was also dozens of grey squirrels, delighting Lydia with their frantic comings and goings

Lydia and I at the walls of York

The museum was also interesting, with artefacts from a variety of time periods. My favourite was a 5th century Anglian helmet, preserved in almost perfect condition, with elaborate design carved into it. Lydia was transfixed by a video about the origins of some of the skeletons on display.

After a short walk back to the car we began our long drive up to St Andrews in Scotland. 

The day we waited in line for 45 minutes so we could look at a broken manhole cover, followed by the day we left Rome with half the family sick

Saturday the 10th was our last day in Rome, so on that day we decided to visit all the attractions we would like  to see, but hadn't been able to. First we walked through Trastevere to the churches of Santa Maria and Santa Cecilia. Trastevere was beautiful, with no tourists, cobbled streets, fountains, and beautiful houses. A cellist played Bach in the square. We visited an elderly couple's shop where  they made puppets by hand, and bought a couple for Lydia. Everyone there seemed so friendly, and of course the churches were very beautiful.

Santa Cecilia in Trastevere

After visiting the two churches, we walked over the Tiber to visit the Mouth of Truth, a glorified Roman manhole cover, carved to resemble a face, that was supposed to bite you if you lied while holding your hand in its gaping mouth. We only did it because that was the one thing Lydia wanted to see in Rome, and we didn't want to disappoint her, but we had not anticipated how ridiculously long the line was. Hundreds of people had travelled here to lie and discover (surprise, surprise) that the manhole cover was an inanimate object, and could not possibly bite your hand, let alone tell the difference between a lie or the truth. Eventually we reached the object, let Lydia put her hand inside and then hurried away for Lunch. I strongly do not recommend this tourist attraction for anyone.

Lydia at the Mouth of Truth

After lunch, we walked to the Pantheon and the church of San Luigi, not spending much time in each, as Dad and Elsie were both feeling unwell. We had gelato at the Piazza Navona, and quickly walked back to our apartment, just in time for Dad, Elsie, and Lydia to start vomiting. Getting packed up in time was a nightmare, but we managed, and after a stressful sleep, we made it onto the plane.

Arriving in England again after 4 years was surreal, I had missed the country so much, and was ecstatic to be part of it again. I recognised all the birds that flew past as we drove up the highway, and every tree looked familiar, despite my never having been on that particular road before. We arrived at a youth hostel in York at 4:15, and got ready for our first night in Britain in 4 years.

Catacombs

Yesterday Rebecca was feeling unwell, so we stayed at home for much of the morning. Elsie, Dad and I walked up to the Garibaldi Monument on Janiculum hill. Giuseppe Garibaldi was an Italian freedom fighter, who fought against invading french forces at Rome. He led a team of idealistic soldiers called the Red-shirts. The view from the hill overlooked all of Rome.

Elsie and I at Janiculum hill

There was also a monument to Giuseppe's wife,  Anita Garibaldi who rode away from a besieged town with her newborn baby, brandishing a pistol. Her body was inside the monument

Anita Garibaldi

After lunch, we caught a crowded bus to the catacombs of Saint Domitilla, and San Callisto. The catacombs were used by the early Christians to bury their dead. They went on for miles, deep underground. San Domitilla was my favourite, it was much darker, and narrower than the catacombs of San Callisto, and was genuinely atmospheric. We were not allowed to take pictures, but even if we had, no photograph could properly demonstrate the full situation.