Milngavie

Judy. For years, I've been wanting to walk the John Muir Way, a trail in Scotland that goes from the Firth of Clyde to the Firth of Forth. I was hoping for this year, but Ted convinced me that the weather was so iffy in Scotland (true) that we might not enjoy the hike. He suggested instead, a commuter village outside Glasgow, called Milngavie, where several "walks" in the country were easily accessible. So, in the spirit of compromise, I agreed.

And it was a brilliant choice!

Milngavie is a charming town of about 13,000. While it's somewhat spread out, the downtown area (about 5 minutes from our apartment) has everything we need--M & S Food Hall, Tesco, at least four pubs, four charity shops (my obsession), coffeeshops and bakeries (only one is a chain), pharmacies, health food stores, you name it. The train station, which whisks us off to Glasgow or Edinburgh, is even closer, a block from our house.

These flowerpots are everywhere

Quiet morning

One of several pubs

They sell real newspapers! And deliver!

Local whisky shop

Clock in the center of town

It's also the starting point for the West Highland Way, a 96-mile trail from Milngavie  north through the Highlands to Fort William. This has become quite a popular walk, and every day groups alight from the train with their backpacks, grab a coffee, get their "passports" (stamped along the way to prove they did it) and head out. While we sometimes hear American English, it's only as they're on the way to the trail.

People are incredibly friendly--a one-hour walk usually takes and hour and a half because people stop to talk to us and make suggestions about things to see. One night we went for pizza, and a woman came to our table to tell us she had extra vouchers for two free pizzas that were about to expire, and she wanted to give them to us! In the M & S Food Hall, while buying bread, Ted asked the baker about whisky, and she recommended a local distillery, and also walked with us to the part of the store that sold whisky, pointing out the best, and also suggesting the local shop where we could buy a smaller bottle. Patrick, the ticket agent at the railway station, makes sure that we understand when the cheapest tickets are for the smoothest trips, and tells us about his favorite places to visit.

Our first Sunday at St. Andrew's Scottish Episcopal Church, we were welcomed like long lost family, gifted with home made marmelade, and told stories by a man who's hiked all the Bens (mountains). 

A welcome in English and in Gaelic

I found a yoga studio, Yoga Jo's, and have been delighted at the instruction, even though I can't always understand Haley's brogue. She won my heart, though, when, during savasana , she murmured, "Imagine your eyelids are wee, soft blankets, gently covering your eyes." How can you not relax with that image!

The village name, which is pronounced "mul-GUY", is Muileann-Gaoithe in Gaelic (see Ted's post). While Wikipedia insists it means "windmill", local lore says it's named for Gavin's (or Guy's) Mill, located on the Allendale Water. The old building is still there (at least its 18th century iteration) and is now a popular cafe and gift shop.

Train station sign

Gavin's Mill

Front view

Our apartment building is located next to the Lillie Art Gallery, which houses temporary showings (presently paintings made by Glaswegian artist Alastair Strachan), youth artworks (I want to take the classes they take!), and a gift shop carrying works by local artists. 

Our front door

Nice to have an art gallery next door!

We've taken several walks while here, about every other day, but in addition to those, we've not lacked things to do.

Little town, big surprise.

Language in Scotland

Ted. I am occasionally confused by the some of the words that I hear as we travel around this country. I now understand that Scotland has three “home” languages; English, Scots and Scottish Gaelic (usually just called Gaelic). “Scottish” is an adjective as in Scottish National Football Team while “Scots” is a noun referring to the people or the language. The word “Scotch” doesn’t seem to be used at all. 

At the train station in our little town, the destination sign says Milngavie and also Muileann-Ghaidh. The first word can technically be said to be English but might more commonly be called Scots while the second is definitely Gaelic. Here is the same sentence written three times: 

English

Gaelic and Scots are both languages that are spoken in Scotland. 

Scots

Gaelic and Scots is baith leids that is spak in Scotland.

Gaelic

Tha an dà chiuda Gàidhlig agus Albais nan cànanan a tha gam bruidhinn ann an Alba.

I was surprised to read that Scots is a Germanic language (though some consider it simply a dialect). About a quarter of the population of Scotland consider themselves to be Scots speakers. We stopped for lunch in a small village recently and I couldn’t understand the ladies at the next table. Either they were speaking Scots or they had a very strong Scottish accent.

While English is the language used in the Scottish schools, Scots is commonly woven into the conversations. 

Gaelic, a Celtic language, is quite a bit different and much less common nowadays. A few native Gaelic speakers can still be found, but only on the islands and in the north of Scotland. Due to an increased interest, Gaelic is now being taught in some schools and a few even offer full immersion. One challenge to this effort is the availability of qualified Gaelic instructors. 

While the Gaelic language is endangered, many words have worked their way into common use. Loch, glen, ben and cairn are just a few examples. 

As we learned in Malta, indigenous languages everywhere are fading away which, sadly, just adds to the homogenization of our planet. It does warm my heart, though, to remember that every year, on the birthday of Robert Burns, young and old alike resurrect their heritage by reciting his poems in Scots, as he wrote them. They often open their evening meal with this blessing:

The Selkirk Grace

Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;

But we have meat, and we can eat,

Sae let the Lord be thankit.

Why Scotland now?

Ted. Judy and I were married in May of 1977. Soon after getting hitched, we quit our jobs and backpacked around Europe for three months.

We knew we would be returning to the UK this summer to catch our ship to Norway and thought it might be fun to return to Scotland for the first time since our honeymoon. Let me reminisce for a minute.

Newly wed and excited!

Although our 1977 journey was my third trip to Europe, it was Judy's first and she decided to make the most of it by keeping a journal.  Yes, that heirloom has survived to this day although some of our photos got lost along the way.

During our wanderings back then, we spent a week in Scotland. Traveling exclusively by rail, we didn't see a lot but Judy documented everything. 

From Birmingham, our first stop in Scotland was in Glasgow. Not liking the big city very much, we immediately hopped on another train, getting off in the hamlet of Ardlui to spend a night on the shores of Loch Lomond. The next day, we rode through the incredible highlands countryside to Fort William, where we stayed the night. Judy's journal shows that we visited the West Highland Museum and went to the local cinema to see an American movie; The Silver Streak. 

The next two nights were spent in the tiny fishing village of Mallaig. Judy saved our receipt from the B&B that we stayed at as it was her birthday.

One day we took a train to nearby Glenfinnan to see the monument to Bonnie Prince Charlie and attend the local highland games. Here's a page from her journal dated August 21, 1977. 

Now, let's return to 2025. This time, since we have a car, we decided to travel the entire journey from our current base in Milngavie to Mallaig and back in one (albeit long) day. 

This time I didn't take many photos because I usually had a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel driving up those narrow roads (on the "correct" side). We did stop for breakfast at the Drover's Inn in Ardlui. 

Today, it's a popular place with hikers walking the famous West Highland Way (which didn't exist in 1977) and the sausage, bacon and egg rolls are huge and awesome!

Continuing north, we headed into the highlands and took a break to walk a bit of the West Highland Way near Glencoe.

Our next stop was Fort William which has grown into quite a tourist destination. We were pleased to see that the West Highland Museum is still there and we had a great time reminiscing with a docent who is about our age. I asked if that was the same movie theatre across the street. "Oh no," he said, "that's the new one which replaced the old one years ago."

After our brief visit it was back on the road to Mallaig; the northernmost stop on our previous trip. The "sleepy village" is booming now and we couldn't even find a parking spot so, after visiting the silvers beaches of Morar once more, we turned south for the long drive back to Milngavie. 

It was a lot of fun recreating a part of our journey from years ago. Most of that trip was spent on the continent though and we have discussed pulling Judy's journal back out and following that path some more in 2027, during the year of our 50th anniversary. If we are still around and able to travel it might be fun. We'll see...

France, 1977

 

 

Haugesund to Milngavie

Ted. Judy and I are currently residing in Milngavie, Scotland but our last blog post was about our cruise in Norway. So how did we get here? 

Our final port of call was Haugesund. 

This city of about 35,000 is just south of Bergen on the southwestern coast of Norway. The area has a rich history dating back to the Viking Harald Fairhair who was the first king of Norway. 

Judy and I spent the day strolling around the town, visiting an art museum and a local history museum that has recreated life in the 19th century which centered on the herring fleet. One young local told us that his mother had married an American and he was born in Spokane but the family returned to Norway. This has been a fairly common story here for the past 200 years. After a nice outdoor lunch in the heavenly sunshine it was back on the ship for our two day journey to Southampton. 

Mornings at sea meant pickleball for me

Upon arrival, we immediately took a train to London to await an evening flight from London City Airport to Glasgow, Scotland. With a long layover, we deposited our luggage near Waterloo station and walked to Westminster Abbey to attend the Sunday Evensong Service. It was deeply moving as we were seated in the stalls directly behind the choir. 

You can just see Parliament from the Abbey cloister

After reclaiming our luggage, a friendly Uber driver took us to the small airport which sits on the banks of the Thames on the east side of London. Our flight was delayed for two hours which we spent in a nice conversation with Ciara, a young Scottish photographer who was returning to her home after spending two months working in South Africa. On parting, we agreed to meet up in Glasgow to resume our chat. We did ultimately make it to Glasgow around 11:00pm where we picked up our rental car and made a midnight drive to the small town of Milngavie (pronounced “mull-GUY”) which was to be our home for the next three weeks. New adventures awaited and reports will be forthcoming.

Olden, Norway

Ted. It is rare for Judy and me to pay for an excursion at a cruise stop. When we do, though, we prefer to hire a local company. 

I booked two excursions at this port with Olden Adventure so that we could explore a bit of the countryside. Olden is only slightly larger than Skjolden but gets a lot more cruise ships because of the extra spectacular scenery nearby. Since it is only a 7 hour drive from Oslo, we also saw lots of folks from all over Europe who were visiting this area by car. 

Once we docked, we hopped on a shuttle bus to the nearby village of Loen where we boarded a gondola that whisked us 3,000 feet up Mt Hoven. 

There are several walking trails at the top and a nice cafe. We savored the 360° views, spotting an eagle and a paraglider. Judy even got a quick glimpse of a base jumper! 

Can you spot our tiny ship on the left?

Just another fjord!

After a bit, we returned to the port and had time for a quick lunch on our ship before taking our next excursion. First, we had a 40 minute bus ride up a charming valley to the little hamlet at the trailhead for the Briksdal Glacier.

Glacial runoff makes this lake appear green

We were fascinated to learn how this very popular destination first attracted visitors. Back in the 1930's, before the Norwegian government had much interest, the local farmers paid to have a road built to this point. They worked out an arrangement whereby the local community would own the rights to the access to the glacier and began organizing visits by tourists. Today, the Briksdal glacier itself lies within a national park but all of the surrounding area is controlled by the local farmers. The buses, cafes, lodge and excursions are all staffed by the local families and it is now an important revenue stream for the community.  

Rather than a long hike, we opted to ride “Troll Cars” (John Deere UTV’s) driven by locals (of course) to get to the glacier’s base. As it was approaching 90°F, the glacier was melting quickly and the resulting river was roaring!

We had to drive through this waterfall!

The same waterfall from above

Worth it!

We had about a half hour to stroll around before we reversed the process returning to the ship just before departure time. As our ship slipped its lines and pulled away from the pier, folks gathered on the terrace of the nearby pub to sing and wave flags in farewell; a touching tradition.