Greyfriars Primary School hosted a carnival on Friday night, and though I kind of wanted to drive around St. Andrews looking for Kate Middleton in her red coat, the kids were keen to go. They swayed David with promises of “international food,” so I deferred, and the four of us went to their school for the evening. I was surprised at how jam-packed it was—just imagine a pub at Six Nations game time where all the patrons are wearing paper-plate-and-feather-masks and armed with glue and glitter and you’ll have it. Emma hooked up with her P1 buddy, Zoe, and John quickly found one of the Davids (his face had already been Spidermanned with face paint by the time we arrived, so I wasn’t sure which one) so that left us standing in the corner, holding a pile of coats. The promised “international food” never materialized, though there was some evidence 
of it on the tables in front of some parents (apparently, the evening’s schedule started with food from 6:00 pm to 6:07 pm, and we had arrived too late). So, we stayed as long as it took to be polite, and smiled through the musical performances: the group of P6 girls doing Zumba, the girl that can play the bagpipes (again), and a St. Andrews student who plays some kind of tabletop Chinese harp, though it was so delicate and quiet that I don’t think anyone in the room heard it over the squeals coming from the P2ers in the vegetable carving section.The weekend’s weather forecast called for copious amounts of sunshine and 50+ degrees, so our plan was to head to Dunnotar Castle after John’s rugby training. The sun was indeed out, so the drive up was lovely (though we had to drive through the dreaded Dundee, home of inexplicably large and complicated roundabouts that create so much stress in our car that I think even the voice on our GPS unit swore at one point). Dunnotar Castle is about an hour and 45 minutes north of us, towards Aberdeen, and right on the coast. The year in which the castle was built is up for debate, though a previous castle on the same site was destroyed by the Vikings in the 9th century, and William Wallace burned another version down that had been consecrated in 1276. In any case, the castle belonged to the Earls Marischal, who were one of the most powerful families in the land, and therefore hosted various dignitaries like the Marquis of Montrose, King Charles II and Mary Queen of Scots (though I have yet to visit a castle in Scotland that did not host Mary Queen of Scots. She apparently spent all of her time traveling, and clearly had one of those discount railcards…) Dunnotar is most famous for being the place where the Scottish Crown Jewels, or “Honours of Scotland” were kept and hidden from Cromwell’s army.
It’s also known for the story of the “Whig’s Vault,” a gruesome tale in which a group of Covenanters who refused to acknowledge the King’s supremacy in spiritual matters were imprisoned in the vault in 1685 for about six weeks. The vault is miniscule, and there were about 160 people trapped there, the details of which are retold in vivid words and graphic pictures. Unfortunately, we came to this room almost immediately upon arrival, and Emma found the signs first, which prompted an hours-long rant about why we insisted upon dragging her to these horrible castles where she had to see all
these horrible places where people died these horrible deaths. John, on the other hand, had found a decent-sized, sunbleached stick on the way in, and was having a ball brandishing it every time he entered another dark and moss-covered room, so Emma and I separated from the boys, and I took her to the ruins of the stables, where I was confident that the most gruesome thing we would find were the manure chutes. Both of us wandered around for a few hours, occasionally bumping into the boys, but mostly marveling at one gorgeous vista after another…the Scots certainly do know how to site a castle. There were hundreds of nesting birds on the castle cliffs, and dolphins out in the water just beyond the bay. It was a crystal clear day, and after we had seen all there was to see in the castle, we took a short walk down to the rocky beach below, and then up to the coastal path that edged the cliffs (dangerously so, actually). Just as we left, it barely started to sprinkle, and as we walked back to the car park, a full rainbow came out and arched over the castle. It was truly amazing!
For dinner, we drove to the nearby town of Stonehaven, where the kids found a huge playground complete with skatepark and zipline. As the sun went down, we drove to the Ship Inn, which is right on the harbor. The Six Nations games were on in the pub, though,
and there wasn’t an empty seat in the house, so instead we went to yet another overstaffed Indian restaurant for dinner where one waiter after another kept stopping by to rearrange the silverware in front of John (he’s quite the perfectionist,” said Emma!). Our meal was good, though John wasn’t happy until he was sitting in the car, forty-five minutes later, with a full takeaway cheese pizza on his lap for the drive home.
Amazing pictures, Jules!
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