The Jolly Judge Pub

We've walked up the hill to the castle, but decided upon arrival that we were hungry. So, we walked past the castle down Lawnmarket until a pub was located. That didn't take very long. The Jolly Judge is a typically Scottish basement-bar just off Lawnmarket in James Court. It apparently is frequented mostly by tourists and is actually a stop on a number of the walking tours that are so prevalent in this Edinburgh's Old Town. We popped in and took a seat, Larry (in the photo) ordered food for himself & Denise while I took my spot at the bar and ordered a half cider (for the wife) and a pint of the 80 shilling for myself. Quaint pub with friendly folk. The ceiling was plastered in paper money from all over the world. We did the only touristy thing we could do, we pulled out an American dollar bill, wrote our names on it and gave it to the barkeep to staple to the ceiling. I hope someday to return to the Jolly Judge and locate it. As a point of interest, the Jolly Judge has just installed free WiFi in their pub. Arsenal has FINALLY landed a player or two and are swooping in on a third. It's about time, we truly needed to shore up our midfield. The unfortunate thing here is that it appears we have just purchased a 19 year old & a 16 year old and are trying to close on another striker. Shame I'm not the manager, eh? Wastrel On! (Listening to: General Taylor by Great Big Sea)

Edinburgh Castle

Quite the image. Walking up the hill toward the castle from the carpark I looked up to see this. This imposing structure on top of an already imposing rockpile was a photo I couldn't resist. The Castle is such an overwhelmingly dominant structure that the city of Edinburgh would be lonely, indeed desolate, without it. It lords over the city like no other city in all of the British Isles. It exists to prove every childhood dream of a castle true. The epitome of the castle, it is the subject of countless stories & legends. It is visited by more than one million tourists every year who after visiting the castle & marvelling, wander out, down the esplinade and into the Royal Mile where they spend their hard-earned dollars, yen & euros on Scottish trinkets. A fantastic sight, a fantastic site. Wastrel On! (Listening to Burning Bridges by Garth Brooks)

Castle Terrace Car Park

Ahh, the Edinburgh Castle. Astonishing in it's rocky glory, no? My previous visit to the castle, I had recalled a street on which nearly no one parked that had easy access to the castle. Marita Beth navigated & I drove us to Grassmarket (Haymarket?) Street where we were to park, only to find that they had erected this HUGE parking garage, which made it doubly easy to park. It also explained why in Project Gotham 2, I was racing down familiar, yet unfamilar streets in Edinburgh. They'd put this monstrous parking garage in the game, I didn't know it was there. We parked & we walked, through the rain, up the hill to the castle. Marita Beth & I had a different agenda on that day, so we didn't go in the castle, but Larry, Denise & Ginger did...and loved it. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Rock the Casbah by the Clash)

Unknown Castle Burleigh Castle

We got up early this morning and headed toward Edinburgh, that fabulous auld city. Ginger, Larry, Denise, Marita Beth & myself in our little Ford headed to Auld Reeky. Marita Beth got a wild hair, which she does often enough, and decided that we should take the scenic route to Edinburgh & stop at every available scenic/historic/touristy stop...ok, scratch the touristy bit, we don't really do that. So, she grabbed the map and located a "castle" icon that was somewhere near our intended route and off we went. What a treat this little castle/fort was for us. Utterly empty, it was locked but bore a sign indicating we could pick up a key at the little housing complex across the street. I ran over, caught the lady just as she was leaving, got the key and walked back to the castle to go exploring. It was, originally, three stories, but only 2 of them have floors now, the third floor having long since rotted away. The stairs up to the second floor were slick with bird shit, but it was worth the climb. I regret that I do not recall the name of this little gem. We'd been there perhaps 30, maybe 40 minutes when the continuously darkening sky decided to open up. This photo is taken from inside our vehicle parked on the side of the road just after the rain really started coming down. Having just found out, the castle is Burleigh Castle. I'll search & find more. Wastrel On! (Listening to: August by Shooglenifty) (now listening to: Loch Lomond by Runrig)

Lady Stair's Close

Ahhh, Edinburgh, the Auld Reeky, truly one of my favourite places on Earth. According to the Scottish Place Names dictionary, the name Edinburgh means 'Fort of the Rock Face'. The 'edin' part comes from Scottish Gaelic and means 'rock face', while 'burgh' comes from Old English meaning stronghold (this bit of text taken directly from Stuck on Scotland). It didn't take long to find ourselves in the wynds & closes of the Royal Mile, the investigation of which could take days. The Lady Stair's Close is where the Writer's Museum is located and why we were walking into it. The day was misty, as so many of them were on this vacation, and most of us were bundled in hoodys, sweaters or other keep-warm clothing. Ginger & Marita Beth went the extra mile when entering this close & huddled together for warmth. I love those girls. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Let Your Troubles Roll By [LIVE] by Carbon Leaf)

Hogmanay

For the past few hours I've been waist-deep in preparations for our annual Hogmanay party in Arlington, TX. A far cry from the mac-daddy of all parties, Hogmanay in Edinburgh. But, it's our own nod to the ancestral home & home of my heart. Many hours days spent compiling & organising a musical selection of purely Scottish artists. Many hours spent cleaning & prepping the house; lights strung, plaid hung, pavilion set, twigs snipped. Soon, the traditional Wassail will begin it's creation and the kilt will be donned. A right blythe Hogmanay to yese aw! Wastrel On! (Listening to: TCU vs ISU)

Well, what else do you need?

A phonebooth & an abandoned wagon wheel. What else is necessary? On a previous trip to the United Kingdom, I had focussed on the staple "Red Telephone Booth" as a photographic subject. I experienced much ridicule for that. This time, around I found a differnt subject, pubs, on which to exert my photographic energy. Sometimes, the two just go hand-in-hand. I suppose it's just as well, for the "Red Phone Booth" is slowly being replaced by modern non-enclosed booths that are more functional & considerably less decorative. I find it the end of an era and am saddened by it. By the time I return, i expect that there will be far fewer "Red Telephone Booths" to photograph. Sad, really. This is the side of the Old Smiddy Restaurant in Errol, Perthshire, Scotland. A day full of distilleries & a winery deserved nothing less than a pub for dinner; and a pub we had. A delightfully charming location on High Street (the only street, really) in Errol. It was impossible to miss. The Old Smiddy even had a selection of Cairn O'Mohr wines by the bottle or by the glass. I, if memory serves, switched back to beer at this point, and likely had a pint of the 80 shilling. I recall my dinner being delightful, however. So, should you find yourself in Errol, Perthshire, make sure you drop into the Old Smiddy and let them know you found them on the Wastrel. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Mercedes Boy by Pebbles)

The Millstone at Cairn O'Mohr

Truthfully, I have no idea. None. However, here I am walking alone at the back of pack (as per norm) and I round the corner to find Kelly waiting for me. Dear Kelly, always there when I need her. I'd been taking photos and fallen behind and she espied this millstone propped up in the corner of a falling down soon to be dead building. I'd have missed it, being in the hurry I was. Our party was out of sight, but I snapped a couple of quick shots of this nonetheless then we hurried on to catch up. The Cairn O'Mohr winery is on this mazy piece of land that is spotted with little buildings & farm equipment, most of which seems to no longer have a purpose. Frankly, once the rest of them were out of sight, they were truely away. We wandered and wandered, but eventually did find them inside the cask building (multi-hued, plastic casks at that). I meant to ask our dear addle-pated guide/owner about that millstone, but failed to remember to do so. Thus, it is a mystery. Wastrel On! (Listening to Bus Stop by Government Mule (cover of a Holly's song))

CAIRN O’MOHR

CAIRN O’MOHR AWARD WINNING SCOTTISH FRUIT WINES ARE MADE FROM THE BERRIES, FLOWERS AND LEAVES THAT GROW NEAR ERROL IN PERTHSHIRE, SCOTLAND BY THE GILLIES FAMILY. That's what it says on their website, and I can attestify to it's truth. What can be said about the Cairn O'Mohr winery that cannot be summed up in a single word? That word would be odd, and encompasses neatly without prejudice or belittling everything about this precocious winery in Errol, Scotland. From the charmingly eccentric couple to the outlandish surroundings and garish colours, odd seems to fit the bill nicely. But mostly, odd describes the wine; and here's where I MUST protest that odd is in way a deregotory term, just one that indicates we've stepped outside the norm. Or, at least, my own comfortable norm. I'm a wine-drinker. I have been a wine-drinker for 'lo many a year now. However, I'd not until this day tried a wine that used anything other than grape as it's source. At Cairn O'Mohr, they grow no grapes, they instead make wine out of the various natural resources they have to hand. Rhubarb, heather, elderberry, grass, oakleaves &c. Odd? Yes. Delightful? Most definitely. I must say that both the Rhubarb wine (with it's decadently sinful label) and the Autumn Oak Leaf (with it's delightfully simple label) were excellent wines. These are not snob wines, I hasten to add. Do not buy this wine & expect to put it back and re-sell it fifteen years down the road, I expect you would be disappointed. Buy it & drink it now, while it's in its youthful prime. And, should you ever find yourself in Perthshire then find your way to Errol and visit this odd winery. Well worth your time. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Madness by Zee)

Blair Athol Distillery

Blair Athol Distillery is in striking contrast to Edradour. Neither small, nor quaint, Blair Athol caters very much to the tourist aspect that surrounds all of Pitlochery. Now this is not to say it wasn't an enjoyable tour, au contrare, it was, and quite. Unlike our previous guide, however, this particular young man seemed to be doing it from rote rather than love; it very obviously was just a summer job for him. However, despite our guide's obvious diffidence, he did impart some knowledge to each of us on the tour. One fact that escaped me as I was back taking photos (you weren't supposed to photograph the interious, thus my hanging back) was that you should not stick your head inside a vat during the fermentation process. Therefore when I did exactly that upon catching up, I damn near fell over & I'm absolutely positive I burned my sinus passages. Shite that hurt! After the tour, we retired to the tasting room where each of us had a finger or two of several diffrent whiskeys. Until the last one, I didn't care for them. The last one (I don't recall the name, but I'm sure George or Missie would) was actually exceptional, but didn't come from that distillery. It was from a sister distillery that is part of the Arthur Bell & Sons Scotch conglomerate. The distillery itself, as you can see is beautiful. Well-cared for, it sits just outside the picturesque town of Pitlochrie at the gateway to the Higlands of Scotland. Should you find yourself in the area, it's well worth the stop! Wastrel On! (Listening to: Hark the Herald Angels Sing by Johnny Cash)

Edradour Distillery Gift Shop

The whole experience of Edradour was so charming & peaceful that I needed to write about it a little more. The experience started in a gathering spot where we wedged ourselves in amongst some stinky German folks (a German tourist bus had arrived just moments before us. And it's not that all Germans are stinky mind you...I'm guessing this batch had come straight here from Germany with no rest-stop). So, after a brief history of the distillery & scotch-making in general, we split into two groups. The first group (mostly the Germans) went and took the tour. The second group, us, went to the tasting room where we were offered a few fingers worth of the Edradour spirit while we watched a "commercial" extolling the virtues of being the smallest distillery in Scotland. Very nice, very professional but a bit over the top. I mean, we were already there weren't we? Was there any reason to regail us with that? Marita Beth & numerous others didn't finish their scotch, so I drank it for them. No reason to waste it, eh? Now, onto the tour. The tour itself lasted only about 40 minutes and took us through each step of the process. Because of largneess of the groups, the tour was considerably less personal than I believe it might have been otherwise. However, we had a very knowledgeable, engaging guide who instructed us about many of the varying aspects of spirit-making. This photo is of the gift shop looking up the hill to the tasting room. As you can see, it's not all buildings and equipment. Much of the foreground belongs to a typically beautiful garden. A true delight. Drink Edradour Single-Malt. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Surfing With a Spoon by Midnight Oil)

Edradour Distillery

Established in 1825, Edradour Distillery is Scotland's smallest distillery and charmingly relies on that aspect. Almost as if they refuse to grow, they wear that badge proudly claiming that their single-malt (is there any other kind?) is still hand-made using the same techniques established 150 years ago. Apparently, the distillery still uses much of the original equipment and still only produces 12 casks of scotch-whiskey per week. An astonishly small amount, truly. I'd been introduced to Edradour by Lynette & BJ many years ago and it was a treat to have the rare opportunity to visit the distillery. Getting there was nearly as enjoyable as Edradour sits in one of the most magnificently beautiful regions in Scotland...indeed in the world. It lies at the end of a very small track that is perilous enough to navigate when you haven't been to a scotch sampling. I'm just thankful that the bus-driver for the German tourist group that was there declined to partake. The bus itself was wider than the road, imagine if the driver were drink-driving, too. I shudder to think. The photo is very nearly all of the distillery. In fact with the exception of the gift shop out of view to the left, and the cask storage facility behind the building to the right, it is the distillery. As they claim, "small!" Wastrel On! (Listening to: Hot Shot by Karen Young)

The Glory Hole

Caithness Glass is an amazing place. A tourist trap, a museum, a gift shop, a restaurant & a workshop all rolled into one structure in Perth, Scotland. Although I, personally, wasn't overly interested in going there a batch of us did so nonetheless. And all because our dear friend Shannon Morgan (of Girl Glass) has been instructing Ginger, Marita Beth and several other "baby gaffers" in the fine art of glass-blowing. So, of course we had to stop at one of the largest glass blowing plants in Europe. And I'm glad we did. Caithness Glass has this workshop environment where there are 10 or so workers creating pieces at any given time. It's huge! And, like the faire environment, the spectators can be right there next to the worker as the item is being created. There is also an upper balcony allowing for a slightly different perspective of the same arena. This photo is of a piece being inserted back into the "glory hole" to be heated back to a working temperature. Ginger, Marita Beth, Larry & Denise could have stayed and watched all day. I'm a little more ADD than that and fear that after the second piece had been created I moved on. I took a quick tour through the giftshop, bought a book, then went and sat down in the restaurant and had a beer (big surprise there, eh?). It wasn't too long after that that the rest of the party showed up & we left. But, we left with glass in hand and a newly engendered respect for the craft. Long may hand-made traditions survive. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Learn to Fly by The Foo Fighters)

On the Stairs

Now imagine: You've had a shit day. Your best friends have become, in your mind, a dose of vinegar and you don't relish spending any more time with them. However, because they're your friends you force yourself to do so. Then this scene shows up. Any "forcing" that needed to be done falls to the floor as you bask in the velvet-clad glow of three of your most precious gifts in the world. These three ladies, Marita Beth, Kelly & Denise somehow made the day ok, just by being where they were when they were. My goddess how could it be any better. Dressed in beautiful, long velvet dresses they sit gathered together on the rich red carpet of our lodging and look as though they intend to solve all the world's problems with a glance. My day suddenly got better. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue, Concerto in F by the Cincinnati Pops)

Footbridge to nowhere

Whilst out roaming the woods behind New Milne, I stumbled, almost literally onto this footbridge. The bridge goes nowhere. It's just there. I s'pose at one time it had to go from somewhere to somewhere, but as you can see it's not in the best of shape. Being alone in this area and having told noone I was headed there, I certainly didn't feel like trying my luck on it. Just what I needed in my beleagured state of mind was to fall through a dilapidated wooden bridge into a sluice pond. Right. Wastrel On! (Listening to: Disco Inferno by the Tramps)