11:43 am
I’m sitting by an oak tree planted on 11th Sept, 1997, ‘the 700th Anniversary of William Wallace and Andrew Moray’s decisive triumph at The Battle of Stirling Bridge’.
I am sitting, gazing in awe at the site of the Battle of Stirling Bridge. Straight ahead, I see the Abbey Craig and Sir William’s monument. It is a long way to the monument, but not a trek. It is a sacred pilgrimage that only too few could understand. It is peaceful here now. The grass is neat and green, trees dot the field. But the monument in view serves as a reminder that the Scots will not be usurped.
I’ll be on my way, now, with a lump in my throat and my heart heavy at the thought of the thousands of casualties—on both sides of the border—who died for a proud ideal of conquest and a proud ideal of freedom. Scotland the Brave.
12:45 pm.
After a strenuous uphill trek that almost makes Ben Nevis look easy (let’s not exaggerate) I’m standing (actually sitting) as close as I’ll ever come to the Wallace statue. The wind up here is phenomenal, so I’ll go in. I truly feel I have reached my Holy Land.
6:26 pm
Wallace’s mighty claymore… as simple as the man who held it was courageous. There was great video presentation in the form of ‘Wallace’s Trial’, a special video screen in the shape of a man’s face was attached to a body. It was most convincing. ‘Wallace’ spoke much as I would have imagined he’d speak (in terms of choice of words). I learned one new thing about Wallace: as Guardian, he began dismantling the feudal system in Scotland to replace it with a fairer system based on Ancient Greece and Rome.
I must admit that the climb up a very narrow spiralling staircase was terrifyingly enclosing. Had the various landings been any further apart, I doubt I could have made it up to the fantastic crown and its glorious view over the environs. (The sky had cleared, seemingly for me!) Getting down was worse, my head was spinning as I inched my way down and people squeezed their way up. (That staircase was one of the most negative experiences in my trip. I really do have a mild case of claustrophobia.)
I enjoyed a wee lunch in the tea room after. Unlike American and Canadian museums, Scottish museums don’t seem to…um… inflate the prices of meals offered in their restaurants.
After? A walk back to Stirling bus station and a bus to the Bannockburn Heritage Centre. I felt something different there, as I crossed the field of Bannockburn to Bruce’s enormous equestrian statue. My ancestors died there alongside their King and friend. In a sense, my blood was spilled on that battlefield. Both monuments were sobering moments, but it was at Bannockburn that I finally realised the pride that one feels at being allowed to wear the Bruce tartan.
Something in me has changed now that I have achieved the main goal of my pilgrimage to Scotland. It is as when I walked the Plains of Abraham in Quebec City. I cannot explain the feeling, but it is a special one indeed. Perhaps it is the knowledge that I have stood where history dramatically changed its course (although I sometimes feel that history’s course is set) and where the destiny of nations was forged. I used to say that Colorado was the most spiritual experience of my life. Scrap that. Walking the fields of Stirling and Bannockburn are far more so.
I’m glad I have chosen to spend two nights in this converted church (The Scottish Youth Hostel). It’s £11.50/night with breakfast, but I have one night free. Incredible that when I tried to book ahead I couldn’t get one here, and when I arrived on the spot, there was one! It helps that I arrived before 10:00AM.
So tomorrow, the old town jail and the castle. Perhaps a (very) quick run to Falkirk if there’s time. It is the 700th anniversary of that decisive (for Wallace) battle.
Now, for a major digression—a note on Fort William, of all places, as well as Glasgow. In Glasgow, I was greeted with bagpipes and despite the city’s similarities with Montreal, I knew I was in Scotland. In Fort William, I was greeted with a polka festival. Felt like I was in the Ukraine or Eastern Europe! The moral of this story? Scotland is a cosmopolitan country. She is a modern country trapped in an ancient land. She is beautiful and vibrant, peaceful and serene. No, the Scots are not (historically speaking, of course) barbarians. Who would not fight for all the Scots have? You know what? The English are/were just jealous!!!
A week from today, my trip will be over. Note to self, call the airport Friday. But I won’t be done with Scotland, far from it! There’s so much I won’t have time to see: Kildrummy, Aberdeen, Dundee, and Glamis Castle, St. Andrews, Cambuskenneth Abbey… The list grows longer every day. Still, I have seen more than enough. Besides, I want there to be something for me to come back to!
As the days go by, I find myself getting more and more used to the routine (perhaps I should put that in quote marks. The only routine is packing and unpacking, saying hello and goodbye, going place to place.) of travelling. ‘Home’ and all its luxuries seems so far away. Slowly, this is becoming real life. I’m not ready to go back, far from it. All I really miss from back there are green vegetables and tofu! But, I see the money slowly trickling to nothingness, I have just a little more than I initially budgeted for, but my expenses have begun to increase. Thank goodness for self-catering! (A ‘little’ more than I had initially budgeted for?! I would find out a few days later that I had almost a full £100 more than I thought in the bank!)
8:56
I’m in the common room and a light keeps flickering on and off, ‘tinkling’ as it does! A music and light show all in 1!
I love Stirling! I do! I do! I do! It just gives off the most incredibly good vibes. I had planned to go for a short stroll around the hostel grounds (a cemetery), but ended up on a longish stroll around town! I found the castle and cannot wait to visit it! The jail looks promising also. Stirling is the first place where I’ve wished I could stay ‘forever’, the first place I’ve wanted to ‘do’ completely before moving on. Still, I want to move on and I’m trying to decide on the next place to go. It’s either Ayr or Dumfries. I guess it’ll depend on available beds and ease to get there.
