Callendar House Gardens

I lied yesterday. It was an accident. I had forgotten about this particular photo. So, despite saying no more Callendar House, here is one more. This view of the Gardens & Wooded Hill behind the Callendar House is made all the more perfect by the inclusion of my wife in the foreground. Although, taken from inside the house, it's not of the interior, so I don't think it violates the agreement I signed to not publish any photos of the interior of Callendar House (at least I hope that's the case). Due to time constraints we did not visit the gardens, we still had to visit the Falkirk Wheel. However, you can see the stunning beauty of it, here. If there's one thing the Scots really know how to do, it's garden and this is proof. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Indian Summer by Dream Academy)

Full Frontal Callendar

The full view of Callendar house as you walk down the lane. Fairly awe-inspiring. Sadly, this will be the last photo of Callendar House that I will post. Although I was allowed to take photos inside the house, I am not under penalty of stiff British Law to publish those photos in any manner. Therefore, be content with this. Wastrel On!

The Callendar House

Across the street (behind) and down a little ways, perhaps 150 metres lay this beautiful photo

Queen Anne's Lace in the foreground, massive oak trees in the middle-ground and the beautiful Callendar House in the background. A chance discussion with our landlord at the B&B the night before revealed this treasure that we had not previously known of. But a treasure it was, and this was just the beginning. Wastrel On (Listening To: Mortal Kombat Theme by KMFDM)

Our first night's lodging

Our first night's lodging in Scotland on this trip occurred in Falkirk, Scotland.

We rediscovered, at this point, that the agents working the Tourist Information centres throughout the UK are pretty much identical in one crucial aspect. They try to put American Tourists in the newest, most up-to-date Bed & Breakfast available. We had encountered this on our previous visit, but had forgotten. So, instead of some charming cottage on the outskirts of town we made do with this 2 year old house in the middle of what passes for suburbs in Falkirk. Not that it wasn't pleasant in it's own right, and the proprietess was a delightful lady, it's just not what we prefer. Give us instead a creaky old house with unstable steps and a front door nearly off it's hinges; at least it has history.
After checking in, we drove just down the road to a restraunt recommended by the B&B owner. Again, we remembered too late, that we didn't specify, "where would you eat?" Nice enough, but quite touristy and over-Americanized (IMO) and certainly over-priced. Of course, we were both amazingly jet-lagged by this point, & I fear that perhaps my memory is tainted by that shear over-whelming exhaustion that crept up on me as we sat waiting for our dinner.
Back to the B&B (without Air Conditioning) for a 12(!!) hour sleep. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Happy Woman by Simon Joyner)