More Cullen Pictures and Goodbye Scotland

On our 2nd day in Cullen we went west along the coast, along the large sandy beach. We followed it up with Fish and chips, which were, frankly, not as good as the ones I had in southern England. I don't know if it was the fish I chose, or the fact that in the south I had been walking so many miles previous to my meal.

In the evening we were visited by the son of the owner. A very charming 14 year old, who kept coming in with the pretense of needing to make himself some tea, which he would then forget about while he entertained us with his stories. My companion and I were on our second bottle of wine when he told us about his love for Louis CK. Had we seen his show, where he acts out some of his jokes. Yes, my companion had seen it often. He told us about this one episode he thought was so funny. Yes, my companion  had seen that episode. It was so funny, he said. Then he told her about it in detail. All the while, she keeps saying, "yeah, I remember", or finishing the scene for him. But he didn't let that stop him from giving her a complete blow by blow. It was great. I love teenagers.

In the morning we saw a beautiful sunrise and caught a bus back the Edinburgh. And then left Edinburgh the following morning to return to Germany. I don't think either of us really wanted to leave, but I literally almost cried. Of course that could have been the Xanax I took for the flight back. I can't wait to go back to Scotland in the future. I didn't even try haggis!

sunrise

view from the bus

Cullen, Scotland, Cullen Skink

After our lovely rest. We walked east along the coast to the ruins of an old castle. It was not raining but there was very slippery mud along the path from the previous days rain. The castle was built in the 1300's but was destroyed a few hundred years later when some vikings attacked it. The ruins were out on this finger of cliff with sheer drops of 50 feet on either side to craggy churning water. In its day, and the same is true now, access was only by foot on a steep hillside. In the castle you can see the remnants of several stories of rooms. The lower level can be accessed either by giant holes in the floor of the overlying rooms, or by what must have once been a spiral staircase, but is now a narrow spiral tunnel (how I got down). There was surprisingly little trash in the ruin. It seems like exactly the place I would have gone to build a fire and drink beer in high school...

On our way back, we decided to go into the town in search of Cullen Skink and a pint of cloudy cider. Cullen Skink is a very famous and beloved soup throughout the British Isles. It consists of smoked haddock and potatoes in a cream base with a pinch of nutmeg. We found what we were looking for at the Three Kings pub. I ordered a cider, when asked which one, I responded, "the cloudy one." One of the pub patrons responded " you mean, the stronger one!" with a bellow. Uh huh. My companion was unsure what to order. "A beer, which one is your favorite?" A tall man, well into his cups sitting at the bar recommended the IPA. "Oh, it's good then?" cups offered her a taste of his, which he had newly received. She tried it. She approved. He grinned. "You know it's a custom in Scotland that you have to marry a man if you take a sip of his drink?" Wonderful. Too bad she's already married. Darn.

The soup was wonderful, though a bit on the salty side. All the more reason to have a second pint of cloudy cider. After the pub, I took a nap and my companion walked along the beach. It was a very successful day.

The giants steps

That's where the castle was

ruined castle

there's the lower story

Cloudy cider!

Cullen Harbor Holidays

We rode a coach bus from Edinburgh to Aberdeen. Then from Aberdeen we caught a "local" bus, which runs from Aberdeen to Inverness passing through many many small towns, including Cullen, on it's way. We left Edinburgh in the afternoon so by the time the bus was wending it's way to Cullen it was dark. There were long periods between stops with no lights, like literally not a light to be seen anywhere out the window. People got on and off, and 30 minutes before our stop we were the only people on the bus.

Our driver finally signaled that we had arrived at Cullen Square (I had to ask him to tell us because they don't call out the names of the stops or anything) and we pulled up to a lone bus stop in the heart of a very small and very closed for business town on a hill slope. The town was deserted, not a soul, and hardly a light on anywhere. We hadn't eaten since the morning and I was not hopeful at our prospects of getting a meal. We wanted remote and windswept...

We walked down the hill under and old stone railway bridge and turned off the main road toward the harbor. It was low tide and by the moonlight you could see all the boats in the harbor resting on the sand. Just past the harbor on the sea side of the road was our hostel, a long stone and wood building. We walked in, hallooing, to a bare wood entryway leading to a long room. The roof was open beam and high. There were no posters advertising zany outings, no signs of any kind. No one answered. We pushed our way into a very warm and spacious kitchen (did I mention it was raining and windy outside), and were met by a very friendly, very robust woman, who informed us that she was just "a volunteer". She was sitting at the long wooden dining table with her computer. We told her there was no need to bother the owners that evening if she didn't need to and she showed us around the place.

Here was the kitchen. Here was the historic fire powered stove, which burned peat, we could cook on if it we liked too. The showers, she told us, were heated by the stove, which burned peat, so we would need to wait until the fire had been lit for several hours before taking a shower. And the peat for the stove was just out here. I was so enamored with the fact that this remote hostel in a remote Scottish town also burned peat, I exclaimed with joy, causing my companion and the Volunteer to look at me strangely. No one else was staying in the hostel so we had our own room. When we asked unhopefully about possible eateries, we were informed that the coop food store was open until ten. And what's more, the last folks staying at the hostel had left bread and butter we were welcome to. We hurried off for provisions, and returned to a warm meal of soup and bread. The hosteler popped in while we were preparing our meal and had us sign in (which consisted of signing a book which lay in the entryway).

After dinner we went off to bed in our private room. It was completely dark when the lights were out. The only sound was the sea. The room, though not cold, was cool and the blankets provided included a duvet, with fresh cover, and a thick heavy woolen blanket. I think it was the best nights sleep I've had in months.

The hostel was so unlike a hostel, more like someone's summer place by the sea. It was exactly what I was looking for, our stay was very pleasant and filled with all the delights I hope for when traveling: comfort, hospitality, funny characters, new tastes and smells and sights. It was lovely, and that is why I have written this novel about it.

The hostel

The stove

PEAT!!!!!!!

kitchen table

our room

Some better photos of Edinburgh

I don't want to speak ill of my phone's picture taking abilities because it served me so well on my South West Coast Path journey. But I will say that for cities, and closeup things, a real camera (which I happened to bring with me this time) can't be beat. Of course, I mean a real camera, as in, a real digital camera, not a film camera, silly. In any case, here are some more pictures from Edinburgh, taken with my trusty 6 year old digital camera. 

View of Edinburgh and the castle

View of the castle from below

Edinburgh Castle

view from the castle

In which we arrive in Edinburgh and then leave it again

My companion remarked upon our arrival in Edinburgh that very few places are exactly how you imagined them to be, but that Edinburgh was one of them. I don't know if I ever imagined it myself, but I think if I had it would have been less magical in my imaginings. I apologize to all the Scots for what I am about to say, but if Hogwarts was a city, it would be Edinburgh.

Our hostel was on the Royal Mile, Edinburgh's main tourist street, it's the one which goes to the castle. When we got there it was raining and dismal outside. The entry of the hostel had a cozy sitting area with an amazing fire blazing away. The lady who checked us in was genuinely and effusively friendly and welcoming.

After dropping our stuff at our beds we walked up to the castle and around town. We stopped for a cider a whiskey and we closed the evening at a place recommended to us by a friend living in Germany,  Mum's Comfort Food. I had fresh local sausages and parsnip mash with caramelized onion gravy, my companion had mac and cheese with veg.

We headed home fat and happy and stopped for another cider on the way. We ended up sitting by German tourists. An entire country of conversations to overhear and we end up sitting with two Germans.
In the morning we went to the Scottish national museum, a chaotic and uniquely organized collection of everything from Scottish relics to a nonlinear clock. Then to the bus station for the 6 hour bus ride north to Cullen.

I loved Edinburgh,  people were friendly,  the food and cider were excellent, the city was magical. Can I live here? I look forward to our return after a few days in the north.
And I promise to take better pictures.

non linear clock 

En route to Edinburgh

We woke up at 4:45am in order to make it to the Podunk airport, Memmingen, near Munich,  on time for our 10:36 departure. I took my "flying phobia" Xanax in the taxi on the way from the memmingen train station.

Normally, I am alone while traveling by air, and I always take it right before boarding, so I've never really noticed the effects of the Xanax on my functioning. In Memmingen we were on a tight schedule so I took it in the taxi, thinking it would be perfect as we were scheduled to leave in an hour. I failed to factor in the fact that I haven't taken it in about 9 months and the 30 minute flight delay.  The result was me sitting next to a decorative plant, which had its spiney foliage covering at least half my face and me sitting there, trying not to nod off and acting like nothing was amiss because I was trying to "play it cool" for my friend, Emily.
I think I also may have walked to the bathroom, bent sideways, and with my elbow crooked in the air. Emily informed me of this fact. So, I guess the moral of the story is that Xanax actually is quite strong, and people notice when you take it. Good to know.

In the end, we boarded the plane and I was out before take-off. And because of the delay, I was relatively coherent by the time we were landing. We easily caught a bus into the city, found our hostel, and retired to a pub for a beer for companion and cider for me. It was perfect. But more on Edinburgh's perfection next time.