Communion Of Dreams


“Whatcha gonna to do with the bat, Jamie?”
July 4, 2020, 2:48 pm
Filed under: Humor | Tags: , , , , ,

There’s an apocryphal story told in my family which has amused my friends for years, but which I haven’t bothered to ever write up. Today seems like a good day to correct that, since it happened on a July 4th almost 60 years ago …

It seems that my family was gathered at the home of my maternal grandmother for a 4th of July party, sometime in the early ’60s (I don’t actually remember this particular event, since I think I was just five or six years old, though I trust that it’s true). Now, the 4th of July was a big weekend for such celebrations back then, and we’d regularly get together for barbecue, beer, and fireworks. Watch some baseball. Play games. And have a birthday party for me. See, I was born on the Fourth.

Anyway, we’d been playing baseball out in the yard, some of my cousins and me. Or, more likely, since I was one of the younger kids in the extended family, I was probably watching my cousins play. And the time came for dinner, so everyone hustled inside, to sit around on various chairs in the big living room and watch some pro sports on a little black & white TV while balancing paper plates of seared meat, baked beans, and salad dressing on their laps.

Now, I’ve never really enjoyed watching sports. Just not my thing. And evidently this was the case when I was really young, too. Because I had finished my dinner, and bored with everyone else just sitting around, had wandered back outside.

Where I found one of the baseball bats we’d been playing with earlier. I picked it up, swung it around, then plopped it on my shoulder and went back inside. Because an idea had struck me.

As I said, I don’t actually remember this, because I was so young. But I imagine that I had been watching some slapstick TV earlier — probably the 3 Stooges or something — and I thought that it would be fun to emulate that.

So I walked over to where my dad was sitting, eating his dinner, watching the game. My dad was a tough, burly, Irish cop who was beloved by many but evidently someone not to be messed with. And I stopped and stood there next to his chair, just looking at him. Finally, he noticed me, looked away from the television, leaned forward and asked “Whatcha gonna do with the bat, Jamie?”

I smiled a little smile, and smacked him upside the head with it.

I have NO idea why I thought this was a good idea. Probably, like I said, because of something I saw the 3 Stooges do, or in a cartoon, or something. But evidently I thought it would be funny.

I knocked my dad cold. Boom, right out. Unconscious. Probably a concussion, though we didn’t worry about such things as much back then.

Before he could wake up, the story is that my mom hustled me off to hide me with friends or other family members for a few days, so my dad wouldn’t kill me when he came to.

Well, it blew over and became something of a standing joke in the family, and later among my friends.

But everybody knew not to ask me damned fool questions like that.

 

Jim Downey

(For other “Jim Downey” stories, I refer you to my old archive site.)

 



Easy to predict.

In Communion of Dreams, I have “experts” who are A.I. assistants. As I describe them in that book when I introduce one as the character ‘Seth’:

His expert was one of the best, one of only a few hundred based on the new semifluid CPU technology that surpassed the best thin-film computers made by the Israelis. But it was a quirky technology, just a few years old, subject to problems that conventional computers didn’t have, and still not entirely understood. Even less settled was whether experts based on this technology could finally be considered to be true AI. The superconducting gel that was the basis of the semifluid CPU was more alive than not, and the computer was largely self-determining once the projected energy matrix surrounding the gel was initiated by another computer. Building on the initial subsistence program, the computer would learn how to refine and control the matrix to improve its own ‘thinking’. The thin-film computers had long since passed the Turing test, and these semifluid systems seemed to be almost human. But did that constitute sentience? Jon considered it to be a moot point, of interest only to philosophers and ethicists.

In the world of 2052, when Communion is set, these “experts” are ubiquitous and extremely helpful. Seth is an “S-series”, the latest tech, and all S-series models have names which start with S. I figured that naming convention would be a nice way to track the development of such expert-systems technology, and in the course of the book you see earlier models which have appropriate names.

So when the time came to write St Cybi’s Well, I figured that I would introduce the first such model, named Andi. Here’s the first bit of dialog with Andi:

“Hi, I’m Andi, your assistant application. How can I help you?”

“Andi, check local restaurant reviews for Conwy and find the best ranked Fish & Chips place.”

“You’re not in Conwy. You’re in Holywell. Would you rather that I check restaurants where you are?”

“No, I’m not hungry yet. But I will be when I get to Conwy.”

“Very good. Shall I read off the names?”

“Not now. It can wait until I am closer.”

“Very good. Shall I track your movement and alert you?”

“No.”

“Very good. May I help you with something else?”

“Not right now.” Darnell shut off the app, then the phone, and dropped it back into his pocket. The walk back to his car was uneventful.

Now, I wrote this bit almost eight years ago, long before “Siri” or “Alexa” were announced. But it was predictable that such technology would soon be introduced, and I was amused as all get-out when Amazon decided to name their first assistant as “Alexa”.

Anyway, I also figured that since the technology would be new, and unsophisticated, that Andi would be slightly annoying to use. Because it would default to repetitions of scripts, be easy to confuse, et cetera, similar to encountering a ‘bot on a phone call. And you can judge for yourself, but I think I succeeded in the book — the readers of early chapters thought so, and commented on it.

So this article in the morning Washington Post made me chuckle:

Alexa, just shut up: We’ve been isolated for months, and now we hate our home assistants

“I’m not a bad person,” Angela Hatem said. “I’m so nice to people.” But Alexa, the voice of Amazon’s home devices, isn’t a person, despite how hard “she” tries to emulate one. And coronavirus/self-quarantine/2020 has Hatem feeling a bit stressed out.

“I say things to Alexa that I wouldn’t say to my worst enemy, if I had one. And I don’t know why. She makes me crazy. … I curse at her. I call her names. I’m very, very mean to her,” said Hatem, who lives in Indianapolis with her 1-year-old son. “There’s really few things I can vent at or vent to, and I’m making Alexa my virtual punching bag.”

 

Heh. Nailed another prediction.

* * *

It’s the first of the month. That means that both novels and our care-giving memoir are available for free download, as they are the first of each month. If you haven’t already, please help yourself and tell your friends.

Jim Downey

 

 



An excerpt from Chapter 14

I mentioned the other day that many of the early reviews of St Cybi’s Well talk about how eerily prescient the book seems now.

Well, judge for yourself. This is an excerpt from the book (Chapter 14: Llangelynnin) when news of the pandemic is just really getting started. The main characters are discussing it, and their plans to collect medical supplies since the St Melangell Centre is a designated rural care center. I first wrote this portion of the book about two years ago, did major revisions last fall.

“The government here is asking people to just stay home if they have any indications of illness. They’ve implemented a week-long ‘bank holiday’, so people don’t go in to work or school, and declared that only essential government employees and emergency workers are to report in. All the bus and train lines have been shut down. They’re even talking about closing all the restaurants and pubs. We’ll probably hear more about that later today. And there have been more anti-immigrant riots in London and some other places. And not just the so-called ‘Tommys’.”

“People are frightened.”

“Yeah, no surprise.” Darnell nodded at the stereo again. “There was also some science reporting about VCS itself. Looks like it is caused by a flu strain which is similar to the 1918 virus, the Spanish Flu, but one which is even more virulent.”

Megan paused, her hands lowered. The towel hung limply by her side. “Didn’t that kill millions, world-wide?”

“Yeah, something like fifty million.”

“And this looks to be worse?”

“Yeah,” Darnell repeated. “This seems to spread just as easily, but kills faster. Well, kills healthy adults faster – that cytokine storm thing, which is basically the immune system going crazy, creating high fever and complete exhaustion, leading to the inability to get enough oxygen and general system collapse. Victims often develop cyanosis – a blueish tint to the skin, particularly on the face and hands. Anyone who is very young, or old, or otherwise has a compromised immune system, can still get the flu, but don’t generally have the VCS reaction. But there’s a good chance that they’ll develop pneumonia which can kill them in a week or so without proper treatment.”

“But there are treatments for pneumonia.”

“There are. And even some things that can be done for someone with Cytokine Syndrome, if you get to them soon enough. Or anti-virals, like Theraflu.” He sighed. “But there’s not nearly enough of those stockpiled. And how well do you think the health system here or anywhere will be able to handle such a fast-moving epidemic, particularly if health workers are among the most vulnerable group because of massive exposure? Do you remember how devastating hemorrhagic fevers like Ebola have been in isolated areas, because health workers are often among the first victims of the disease? And those require direct contact with bodily fluids . . . this flu is airborne.”

There was a wild look in her eyes, and for a moment Darnell thought he even saw fear. Then Megan closed her eyes, clasped the small crucifix necklace she wore, and muttered what he assumed to be a prayer. When she opened her eyes again, the wildness was gone, replaced with a cold determination. “We already have basic personal protection gear – surgical masks, gloves, even disposable gowns – and it sounds like we should wear them when we go to Llandudno. I’ll get them and meet you downstairs when you’re done with your shower.”

 

Jim Downey



With apologies to Ursula K. Le Guin

So, since I haven’t been blogging here much in the last couple of years, I haven’t said anything about just how surreal it was working to finish my novel about a global pandemic … while an actual global pandemic was unfolding around us.

Yeah. Seriously. Real Lathe of Heaven stuff, making me wonder about just how much my envisioning a given reality was bleeding into this reality.

To a certain extent this had been an ongoing problem with writing St Cybi’s Well, as I had mentioned previously. I had to keep going back and making the ‘dystopia’ of SCW worse as our own world took a turn for the worse with the election of Trump, elements of Christian fascism seemed to be in ascendancy, et cetera.

But this year, after I had gotten a solid re-start on finishing St Cybi’s Well, watching the Covid-19 virus start to spread, was just … bizarre. And as you’ll see when you read the book, how the virus spread and the efforts that various governments tried to curtail it was pretty much exactly as what happened in real life. Fortunately, of course, C-19 hasn’t proven to be nearly as deadly as the Fire-Flu.

Well, at least not yet.

< shiver >

Jim Downey



“… telling you a tale that just *might* be real.”

So, almost two months ago I ‘officially’ launched the publication of St Cybi’s Well.

No, I didn’t forget to mention it here. Since I have allowed this blog to go quiet, I didn’t see it as an important venue to announce it, and figured that it would make a little more sense to just let the book exist in the wild for a little while, then write about the reactions to it.

Currently, there are 14 reviews on Amazon, with an overall rating of 4.9 stars. Some are from friends. Some are from acquaintances. Some are from complete strangers. Among the reviews I have my favorites, and not necessarily ones which say good things. At this point, after struggling with the book for so long, I have very mixed feelings about it.

But my strongest emotion about the book, and something that keeps coming up in the reviews of it, is just how surreal it is to have finished the book during the middle of a real pandemic, and having our reality seeming to follow the path I had laid out in the book. Here are some excerpts as examples of what I mean.

The first review, by someone who backed my Kickstarter and had an advance copy of St Cybi’s:

With some recent political developments and COVID-19, I found this unsettlingly realistic.

And from other readers:

That he wrote this well before our current pandemic was even a thing is a testament to his spooky prescience

And:

The images are vivid and remain. No one took epidemic plagues too seriously anymore, Polio was long ago. But since Covid and Ebola, there is a realization that the 4 Horsemen of the Apocolypse are alive and kicking.

And:

What I found most compelling is the almost prescient storyline of the Fire Flu and its attendant effects on society. I can’t imagine a more difficult proposition than trying to finish your novel about an apocalyptic disease while having to do so with one currently taking over the news. There are some eerie moments in the book where it feels as though it’s a ‘ripped from the headlines’ story.

And:

Set in 2012, the overlap with current events in 2020 is uncanny.

And:

the story is kind of terrifying considering its striking similarity to current events

Of course, I’m not prescient. I had no real idea that the coronavirus pandemic was coming, though I had long known that we were about due for another pandemic and were likely unprepared for it. And what I put into the book about how the FireFlu virus spread, and how people reacted to it, was just based on history. What we’re seeing now … all the good and bad of it … was entirely predictable, because it is the sort of reaction that human societies have always had to pandemics.

Which, of course, doesn’t give me any comfort. As is said in one of the reviews:

I ended up feeling that the story is part of what science fiction does best – telling you a tale that just *might* be real.

Stay safe. Stay healthy. Download my book, or order a paper copy. If money is a little tight, wait until the first of the month, and download it for free. And please, if you do read it, leave a review.

Thanks.

Jim Downey



A light in the darkness.

It’s … been a while.

And a lot has happened. Mostly good.

* * * * * * *

Many years ago, a friend got involved in something called “The Jesus Seminar“, which eventually produced (among other things) The Gospel of Jesus.

My friend commissioned Cheryl Jacobsen, well-known calligrapher and friend of mine from my UI Center for the Book days, to do a hand-lettered edition of the book as a gift for Robert Funk, the founder of the Seminar. The work was done on calligraphic vellum, and when it was completed, I did the binding. This is it, which I have used as the main image on my business homepage for at least a dozen years:

And here’s the descriptive text from my site:

The Gospel According to Jesus:  Full leather contemporary case binding, shown here as tooling is being done.  Collaborative work with calligrapher Cheryl Jacobsen of Iowa City.  Sewn on linen tabs, cover mounted to text block using adhesive.  Covered full in burgundy Chieftain Goatskin, blind tooled using a hot brass folder.

It’s a lovely, but very simple and traditional binding.

* * * * * * *

Continue reading



Scotland 2018: 9) My kind of party.

Being a photo-heavy travelog of our 2018 trip to Scotland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday, May 13.

We had a nice breakfast in the hotel, then packed up and cleared out. In a downpour. Which continued most of the drive south to Edinburgh. But our good weather-fu held out, and by the time we got to the airport to drop off the rental, it was a beautiful day. We got a taxi from the airport to our B&B back downtown, where we dropped off the bags and then went out for a walk.

It was still early in the day, so we decided to walk over to the Royal Mile and then up to Edinburgh Castle. The Castle is brilliantly sited, of course, and it’s easy to understand why it has played such an important role in Scottish history. The Wikipedia article covers the history of the castle pretty well, and there are plenty of images available online, but here are some I took.

Esplanade leading to the castle entrance.

 

 

Cannon on the Argyle Battery.

 

The current “One O’clock Gun”, a L118 Light Gun.

 

Cannon on the Forewall Battery.

 

One end of the Great Hall.

 

The other end of the Great Hall.

 

Little mortar in the Great Hall. There were a number of these on the floor around the walls. I could see having fun with them loaded lightly charged and shooting softballs.

 

These guys were dressed for the dance.

 

Spin the Wheel of Misfortune!

 

Go on, take a chance!

 

Axe me no questions.

 

My kind of party!

 

My, such big balls.

 

Which go with this monster.

 

Mons Meg. Seriously big gun.

 

William Wallace window in St Margaret’s Chapel, installed in 1922.

 

St Margaret of Scotland window.

 

St Columba window.

 

Inside the prison exhibition.

 

A very special cemetery on the grounds.

 

Explanation.

 

We finished up at the Castle, then strolled back down the Royal Mile, stopping off at a big Burger joint where I had this monstrosity:

Mac Attack: Aberdeen Angus beef patty, Scottish cheddar cheese , mac n cheese fritter, Virginia sweet cured bacon, lettuce & beer mustard. Served on a white glazed bun.

Yeah, all that stuff is on the burger. The ‘mac n cheese fritter’ was about the size of two decks of playing cards stacked together, breaded and fried crisp, sitting on top of the burger patty. It was almost impossible to bite into the whole thing. But it was pretty damned tasty.

We took our time getting back to the B&B, just exploring the town along the way. After resting a bit, we went back out to explore some more, over around the Edinburgh Playhouse. That evening we popped into a quirky little place just around the corner from our B&B for a little light dinner. We crashed early.

 

Monday, May 14.

We had train tickets back to Manchester shortly after noon. But that gave us plenty of time to check out one more part of Edinburgh we had wanted to see: Calton Hill.

I only took a few pics while we were there, though we did very much enjoy both the walk and the views from the top. Here are a couple to give you an idea:

Looking across to Arthur’s Seat.

 

Looking past the Dugald Stewart Monument towards Edinburgh Castle.

After our stroll on Calton Hill, we got back to the B&B in time for our ride to the train station and the five-hour trip to Manchester. It was pleasant to roll through the Scottish then English countryside, snacking on goodies we’d brought. We’d booked a room at a hotel next to the Manchester airport, and had a nice dinner there that evening. The flights back home (Manchester to London, London to Chicago, Chicago to Columbia) the next day were all fairly uninteresting, except we did take a new A380 for the transatlantic leg of the trip. That thing’s a monster, and it felt less like being on a jet and more like being on a large ocean cruise-liner. It was a long day (about 22 hours) of travel, but we’ve had worse, and it was good to be home.

Since then, people have asked me if I enjoyed Scotland, and wanted to go back. Unequivocally, yes, I did enjoy it. And I could certainly see returning, but it would have to be for a specific reason (to attend the Edinburgh Festival, say, or something like that). While we only got to see a small portion of the country, I feel like it was a good sampling, and now ‘that itch has been scratched.’

 

Jim Downey



Scotland 2018: 8) No stone circle is really complete without a nuclear bunker.

Being a photo-heavy travelog of our 2018 trip to Scotland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, May 12.

We had a nice breakfast at the hotel, and considered our options for the day. Aberdeen and the surrounding area has a lot to offer — our preliminary list had about a dozen possibilities on it, and we had identified at least that many more in looking through “Vistor’s Guides” and such there in the hotel.

In the end we decided that we really wanted to see more of the Highlands, and figured that driving up into the Cairngorms was the best way to do that. It was probably the best decision that we made on the entire trip.

Why do I say that? Well, read on …

The Cairngorm Mountains are just incredibly beautiful on their own. Seriously, like the inter-mountain range of the Rockies in Colorado, though of course they’re not as tall.

And Martha had seen something promising on one of her research forays: Kildrummy Castle.

I admit, I was somewhat unimpressed with the number and quality of medieval castles in Scotland. That’s because for the most part, castles were repeatedly upgraded and renovated … or they were allowed to disappear completely. So you get those magnificent structures like Stirling, Dunvegan, and Edinburgh, or private fortresses such as Eilean Donan and Doune, all of which saw significant rebuilding and modernization through their history. But places like Urquhart and Old Inverlochy are pretty rare in Scotland, whereas in Wales they’re seemingly around every river bend.

But Kildrummy Castle is a magnificent ruin, substantial in structure and easy to understand in terms of layout and architecture. It would have been a formidable stronghold, and played an important part in Scottish history. We stopped in at the ticketing office, and had a chat with the caretaker — who was both enthusiastic about the castle, and a little surprised to find a couple of American tourists stopping in to check out the place. Then we walked up the path to the castle, which I hadn’t seen at all while driving.

But this is what we saw:

Promising …

 

Up the hill and across the dry moat.

 

Across the drawbridge, left …

 

… and right.

 

Elphinstone Tower.

 

Great Hall and Warden Tower.

 

Chapel.

 

Exterior of the Chapel and Warden Tower.

 

Martha in the inner ward.

 

More of the inner ward.

I want to note that we were the only people there, the entire hour or so we spent exploring the castle. On a beautiful Saturday, in the largest National Park in the U.K.

And this, I think, is important, and in itself changed the way I thought about the entire trip. Scotland has done a fair amount of work to promote tourism, and there were places we visited which were crowded with tourists from all over the world. But just a little work to get off the beaten path always took us away from the madness, into a part of the country which was just as beautiful, just as full of history, and a whole lot more enjoyable (at least for this introvert).

We stopped back by the ticketing office. I thanked the caretaker, and told him that I thought that Kildrummy was one of the best medieval ruins I had seen anywhere, in Scotland, Wales, the UK, or on the continent. I’m sure it made his day. Visiting Kildrummy made mine.

Spirits high, we headed further into the mountains. First we stopped at Glenbuchat castle, a nearby fortified home dating to the 16th century. It was well-sited, but closed for renovations. Then we went to Corgarff Castle, a medieval tower which had been expanded in the 18th century, but didn’t hold our interest. We had a nice lunch at a little cafe, then proceeded south across the moors on the Old Military Road:

Stairway to heaven.

We took the A93 back towards Aberdeen for a while, but then went north again towards the small village of Tarland, but stopped at the Tomnaverie Stone Circle. From another website about the circle:

The restored circle is a truly beautiful site to visit, the circle is now neatly grassed over, the quarried area to the south has been filled, and there is a small car parking space available below the hill. The raised location allows for panoramic views in all directions, and there is also an information plaque which gives details of the circle and its history. Those with an interest in prehistory or megalithic monuments will need no coaxing to visit Tomnaverie, and for the casual visitor it is wonderful place for a stroll or a picnic.

See for yourself:

Oh, say can you see?

One unusual feature of the Tomnaverie Stone Circle is noted on the information board:

Which is here:

The small structure just right of center is the bunker entrance.

Strange juxtaposition.

We decided to make one last stop before heading back to Aberdeen, which was just a short way away: Culsh Earth House. Description from that site:

Earth houses, or souterrains, can seem mysterious structures: stone-lined tunnels dug into the earth, usually leading to a dead end and with no obvious purpose. The reality is actually fairly mundane, and it seems that earth houses were simply built as underground storage for agricultural produce.

Culsh Earth House probably dates back to some time before AD100. At the time a timber roundhouse farmstead would have stood nearby, perhaps a direct predecessor of the farm which stands immediately to the south today. The entrance to the earth house might have been inside the roundhouse to next to it, and the earth house itself would probably have been used for the storage of grain or other produce.

Here ya go:

Wonder where that goes?

 

Cool!

 

Looking back.

 

Reemergence.

The rest of the drive to the hotel was uneventful. We had a nice dinner in the pub, and crashed relatively early.

 

Jim Downey

 



Scotland 2018: 7) Spirits of stone. Spirits of growth. Spirits of hunting.

Being a photo-heavy travelog of our 2018 trip to Scotland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday, May 11.

We left Tain, headed south and through Inverness. On the east side of the city we stopped at the Battlefield of Culloden, the site where the Jacobite Rising ended. But since neither Martha nor I are particularly knowledgeable of or interested in this episode of history, we decided to just look around a bit and then move on.

But not far from the Battlefield, there was something we did particularly want to see: the Clava Cairns. This is a group of burial cairns and standing stone circles dating about 4,000 years ago, during the bronze age. It is a wonderful, magical, site:

Martha in one of the passage graves.

 

Part of one of the stone circles.

 

Stone circle around one of the cairns.

 

The other two major cairns beyond the closest one.

The ring cairn.

 

The Culloden Viaduct in the distance.

From the Culloden area we decided to drive east, taking the A96 more or less parallel to the coast. Our eventual goal was Aberdeen, but the idea was to enjoy getting there.

It was, as you can see form the image above, a grey and cloudy day. It was also windy. Crazy windy. So much so that where farmers had plowed their fields, the wind kicked up clouds of dust so heavy that it was impossible to see through. Some of these clouds obscured the roads at time, making driving even more fun that usual.

We decided to leave the A96 and take local roads out to the coast through the town of Kinloss and out to Findhorn.

Findhorn. Ring any bells?

Perhaps you remember it from the classic arthouse movie My Dinner with Andre (one of my favorites), where Andre discusses the remarkable spiritual community founded there in the 1960s, renown for the exceptional harvest of oversize vegetables, which was attributed to help from spiritual entities known as devas (catch the reference in Communion of Dreams?). I remember reading about Findhorn back in the 70s as a New Age settlement, and friends and family had visited there to experience the alternative cultural movement themselves. Having a chance to drop in for just a taste of the place was something I couldn’t pass up. So we did, and spent some time walking through the community, checking out the Original Garden, which still has a special place in my imagination. And unlike many things you see after so many years of anticipation, this one wasn’t diminished by reality. See for yourself:

One of several entrances.

That’s the founder’s caravan — what the Brits call a mobile home — which was the first shelter at Findhorn, adjacent to the garden.

Leaving Findhorn, we kept close to the coast, to the small village of Burghead. Why? For the Pictish Fort which is there on the point of the peninsula, which is still quite evident:

The Visitor’s Center, which also has an observation room for watching the sea life.

We headed further east. Got back on the A96 briefly, but then were again on local roads heading for the coast. To the small town of Banff. Why Banff? Because of another arthouse film from the early 80s which I love: Local Hero. The small town bar in that movie is actually a *really* small local pub called ‘The Ship Inn‘ in Banff. Where we stopped in for a bite of lunch and a pint. And were greeted by two local dogs, three patrons sitting on stools sipping their beer, and the landlady. There wasn’t room for much more.

Then it was further up the coast for another film location from Local Hero: the tiny seaside village of Pennan, which played the part of Ferness in the movie. Here ’tis, red phone box and everything:

So you can see just how little of a town as there is. That’s it. All of it.

From there we made our way to Aberdeen, where we had hotel reservations. In the oddest Hilton (Doubletree) I’ve ever stayed in. We were in what was ostensibly a “handicapped accessible” room, and which did indeed have the appropriate safety bars and call buttons fitted out in the bathroom for someone in a wheelchair. But which literally required us to go up two flights of stairs and down one to get to — there was no other way to get to the room. Seriously — there’s no way someone in a wheelchair could have gotten to the room without being carried there. Crazy.

But we had dinner in the hotel, and crashed early.

 

Jim Downey

 



Scotland 2018: 6) More Magical Movie Moments!

Being a photo-heavy travelog of our 2018 trip to Scotland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, May 9.

This was going to be another driving day, going back across Scotland, but further north. We had a nice breakfast at the B&B, and got on the road. The rain started just as we got on the road.

But it kindly paused, so that we could make a stop once we were back on the mainland: Eilean Donan Castle. This 13th century castle is extremely photogenic, being on a small island at the juncture of three major lochs. See for yourself:

It’s the traditional home to Clan Mackenzie, but you may recognize it as the home of Clan MacLeod from a certain well-known film:

Yeah, that’s the same causeway. Which was actually added just last century. But looks cool.

Still, it’s a very cool place. Unfortunately, no photography was allowed inside the castle. But there’s plenty more to see at their website.

Just as we got back to the car to leave, the rain started back up. I gotta say, the Scottish weather was most considerate for us this trip.

We headed east on the A87 to the A82, stopping at Urquhart Castle on the banks of Loch Ness. Yes, that Loch Ness. Urquhart Castle is a ruin, dating back to the 13th – 16th centuries, but it is a *very* picturesque ruin:

We had a light lunch in the cafe, and got back on the road towards Inverness. Well, towards Tain, actually, on the coast north of Inverness, where we had accommodations for the night. But first we stopped here, to make arrangements to take a tour the next morning:

It may not look like much, but it’s the home of one of my favorite whisky lines: the Glenmorangie Distillery.

And this is where we had accommodations for the next two nights:

The Mansfield Castle Hotel. It was perfect — stylish, a bit old & stuffy, with just enough of a hint of having seen better days to give it a certain seedy charm. Hey, that same description applies to me, so I don’t mean anything negative by it.

We collected some items for a light dinner and enjoyed them in our room.

 

Thursday, May 10.

A really excellent breakfast at the hotel the next morning, with both Martha and I enjoying traditional kippers and eggs, in addition to all the other goodies. Then we popped back over to the Glenmorangie Distillery for our tour, and concluded with a bit of shopping there.  As it turned out, at each of the distilleries we stopped at on this trip, the very same whiskys were available for purchase back in the States (well, except for some absurdly high priced — I’m talking $3k and up — selections), so I didn’t get too carried away, and only brought home a few bottles as keepsakes.

It was still quite early, and we had decided to take a trip to the far north, all the way up to John o’Groats and the nearby Castle of Mey, just across from the Orkney Islands. I would have liked to spend some time in the Orkneys, but the logistics for this trip were just too difficult to arrange. Perhaps another time.

But the drive up was wonderful! We stopped in the small town of Wick to check out the Old Pulteney Distillery and Old Wick Castle (which was closed for work). We did get some great pics of the seashore there. Here’s one:

And then on to John o’Groats and Mey. Even though we arrived there mid-afternoon, it felt early because the sun was still so high in the sky. That’s because that part of Scotland is so far north that there was more than 18 hours of daylight in early May. We had a nice lunch in the Castle cafe, then enjoyed a guided tour through the Castle itself. Spending time in the Castle of Mey and the attached gardens was a delight.

Orkney Islands in the distance.

 

Castle of Mey

 

Walled gardens. Wall is about 4m tall.

 

As you can see, the gardens are extensive.

 

Looking north to the Orkneys.

 

We started back to Tain, taking our time to enjoy the land- and seascapes. We hit some pockets of rain, which didn’t last, but gave us some great scenes:

Somewhere, over the North Sea …

 

The gorse was gorgeous.

 

For my otter-loving friends, look close at the sign.

Again, we decided to take dinner in our room, just relax and unwind a bit after all the driving.

 

Jim Downey