Day 2 of our Scottish Adventure

I struggled to get to sleep last night having had a cup of coffee after dinner (I know, I know--dopey me).  I wrote my blog post and then read War Horse by Stephen Malpurgo at the recommendation of our hostess.  Usually, reading is a way of wearing me out sufficiently that sleep follows expeditiously, but not this time.  Ah well...

After arising at 9 to greet a beautiful, sunny day (what a difference a day makes), I enjoyed a delightful chat with our generous hostess and then she prepared a lovely breakfast.  When my husband was done with his breakfast (it took him a bit longer to arise since he too had trouble sleeping) we set out along the Lade Braes walk directly behind our hostess's home. 

A recent storm felled this tree across the stream on the Lade Braes.  City fathers had to cut a path through the base of the tree to permit pedestrians to walk.

The walk was lovely and cool, taking us by charming gardens and markers commemorating lovers' carvings (in stone, rather than on a tree), and sayings (They have said and they will say, let them be saying) as well as through parts of St. Andrews' University.  We saw two lovely  and remarkable trees, one was a thorn tree which is said to have been planted by Mary, Queen of Scots.
The other was the St. Andrews Holm Oak, located in the same quad as the St. Mary's thorn tree.

We walked on to the fabulous St. Andrews Cathedral, a ruin of enormous proportions (larger than a football field). It took more than a century to build it, only to have the west end blown down in a storm.  Later, the cathedral was destroyed by fire.

The round structures pictured here were the base of pillars.

The graveyards at the rear end of the cathedral footprint are vast, with fantastic views of the sea.  Our hostess found the grave site of Andrew Lang, he of the "colored" (as in red, green and blue) fairy stories.  My favorite marker however was of a young golfer.

Young "Tommy" Morris's death was "deeply regretted by numerous friends and all golfers.  He thrice in succession won the champion's belt and held it without rivalry and yet without envy.  His many amiable qualities being acknowledged no less than his golfing achievements."

After a little "buckyouuppo" of coffee and hocho, we proceeded onward to St. Andrews Castle, the home of the infamous archbishop David Beaton who had met his death after authorizing protestant reformer George Wishart to be burned at the stake.  Wishart's supporters were so enraged, they sieged the castle and murdered Beaton himself, hanging him from a window at the front of the castle.

George Wishart's initials are in the street in front of the castle ruins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's no doubt about it--raising Scottish ire is a risky proposition.

We stopped by the train station to get our tickets to Worcester, only to discover that the cost was absolutely prohibitive.  In spite of recommendations to purchase our tickets a few weeks ago, I foolishly thought I'd be able to buy reasonably priced tickets as long as I did so a few days in advance of our departure.  The travel agent with whom we spoke, kindly advised us to consider taking the bus.  We managed to get bus tickets at less than half the cost--still rather costly, but we're set to depart on September 1.

We ended the day with "high tea" (my fave) at  a local hotel our hostess knows well.  It was a full day, but I still found it hard to get to sleep.