Sunday, 14 February 2010

Lording It Up in Scotland

I had a bit of a treat on Monday last week, as I got to stay the night in a castle, parts of which dated back to the 13th century.

Dalhousie Castle Hotel is indeed a genuine 100% real life castle, complete with big chunky stone walls, towers, battlements and suits of armour standing ready to chop you into bits as you pass.

After all my good intentions of using the camera this year, I'd left the thing at home, so all I have are some reather blurry photos taken on my phone I'm afraid. I found the castle easily enough after a trip up from Blackpool which included a rather hair-raising (ha! I wish!) trip over mountains covered in snow with long drops down to frozen bogs and pools at each side of the road. And at one point I was treated to a blizzard on a high unlit twisty road where only the occasional bear or wolf were the only living things besides myself. Oh - and the prat in a big 4x4, who zoomed past me in the white-out shrieking "Oot o' the way!"... As I rounded the next corner I could see that a band of nomads had set a similar vehicle on fire to keep warm at the foot of the hillside far below.

Once at the castle I met up with Clive who was running one of our workshops with me the following day. We went for a meal and both immediately decided on haggis for a starter - wonderful stuff! You vegetarians would love it if you only gave it a chance...

Having feasted and decided that there was no chance of a joust in the offing, we split up and went back to our rooms, feeling the walls carefully for any hint of secret passages. I lay in bed reading for a while, occasionally glancing up to see if any wild kilted ghosties were flitting through the walls... but it was all very quiet and free from any out of the ordinary happening.

The following morning I was up bright and early and once dressed, put a thick coat on to go outside to phone Fran as per usual. The thick walls of the castle, or perhaps just the remote location, mean that I had no signal inside. It didn't help perhaps that my room was at a very low level, but the shackle rings on the wall had kept me in a comfortable position for sleeping half upright and I soon got used to the glow of the brazier and the lack of windows and the drip of water running down the walls. Joke!!! The bedroom was very nice!

Anyway I was wandering about whilst talking to Fran - in an attempt to stay warm as much as anything else - and noticed a sign for a falconry.

They had some spectacular owls but it was still only just getting light and all I had was my phone so I just managed to take a photo of the snowy owl which was making little noises that I took to mean "You look tasty, stick your finger a bit closer..."

There was a huge owl in the next hutch (for want of a better word) that had beautiful orange eyes (I think it was trying to hypnotise me) but as soon as I turned away from it there was a bang, as though it had tried to rush me from behind and hit the wire of its hutch and when, startled, I looked round it had fallen off its perch and was pacing about on the floor, shaking its head and muttering "bloody hell!" in a dazed sort of way...

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