Update Seven - Dalhousie and the New Year!

1.23.2002





Knock'em dead without any knickers!

   Well, it's a new year, and about time I got off my arse and let everyone know what I've been up to! Honestly, my last month here in Scotland has been so fun I really just don't want to go. In the past four weeks, I've made some really, really amazing friends, and been on a realy rollercoaster ride of events in many crazy places. I'll start out with today, though, because the most amazing thing happened to me today.

   The story actually starts yesterday, when I woke up and decided to make great use of the day and take a trip to Glasgow with Indiana-Mindy, a truly amazing american girl who's currently studying in Edinburgh. I made some breakfast, and promptly fell straight back asleep until late in the afternoon, as I felt so ill and so tired that I could hardly move a muscle. Today, though, I woke up charged and ready-to-go. But where to go with all this energy? Well let me tell you what: I've been in Edinburgh for almost six months now, and as I've been here I've been hoping to find some sort of physical link between my ancestors and Scotland. Well, from what my sweet grandmother told me, around 1850 it was the Earl of Dalhousie that sponsored some of my ancestors, the Purdons to make way to America. I told this story to my friend DJ, and, well versed in scottish history (and synical to boot!), sat back and waited for me to explain to him how I was actually a decendant of not only William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, but several Scottish kings, as so many people do who come here looking for answers about their family history. Instead, I baffled him by explaining that they were probably just surfs, there wasn't enough room on the land, and that it was probably cheaper for the good Earl to deport my family than try and look after them. I think DJ appreciated the humor I saw in this, and just the other day he offered me a bit more information.

   I had over at Indiana-Mindy's place and was explaining to her the great story of my surf-ancestory, and she pointed to a map on her wall and asked if I could show her where this had all taken place. As luck would have it, for the first time in five and some months I cought a break, and there, plain as day, was Dalhousie Castle, not a thumblength away from Edinburgh. I mentioned this to DJ, and he spewed forth so many new ideas about the Purdons that I could do nothing but stand there in shock. It turns out that not only were my ancestors most likely NOT surfs, but they were more likely to have been close, trusted servents, or perhaps even friends with the Earl of Dalhousie himself. So today, I hopped on a bus, got off almost in the middle of nowhere, and walked (with Indiana-Mindy, my trusty sidekick) for a few miles through the country to Dalhousie Castle & Spa, formerly just Dalhousie Castle.


Me on the way to Dalhousie Castle.



   Built in the 13th century by the Ramseys of Dalhousie, this is the castle where my great, great, great, great grandfather kicked some ass against the English, sipped his afternoon tea, and played Mario Kart late at night (they had that back then, right?). It's now been turned into a 27 room Hotel and Spa, with five beautiful conference rooms. Contact me for more info!


Impressive, windy, bridged entrance...






Sizeable towers...






Ornate cielings in a beautiful entrance...






Ancient wall hangings...






Hidden doors...






Beautiful chapel...






Georgeous scenery...






This is my kind of Castle...my family must have had SOMETHING to do with it! Even if they were surfs...



   So what else is new with me? An insane amount, but just enough to keep me sane:

I had a really really cool christmas and new year...

had a brilliant trip shortly thereafter to Dublin,

the pub I work in had a not-so-nice run in with some IRA wanna-be's

Saw the Big Bad Voodoo Daddies and the Lo Fidelity All Stars
(both of which rocked!)...

Went to a fabulous bithday party...

and hung out with my second family.

and then there's miss Indiana....

But even though Pete the Chef wears the KBRF hat my dad gave him every day when he was here...

I sure miss Nicholas......



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