The highlands’ parting gift to us was a rainy day, the very first of our trip. The highlands are extra moody as we drive down, fog rolling down distant mountains, and the wind blowing leaves across the road. This is the best way for them to be.
Our on-the-way stop to Edinburgh was Blair Castle. It is the type of castle that was converted to a fancy, lived-in estate for rich people – very different from Dumbarton castle on my first day (a military fort). Also unlike Dumbarton castle, it’s not up a buttcheek-shaped rock and there are only 2 flights of stairs instead of 661. Rejoice for the stairs, mourn for the lack of booty rock.
Blair Castle is a white-clad castle, at the end of a lane of trees that are currently perfectly yellow and throwing down their leaves en masse as we drive up.
It’s home to the Duke of Atholl and the Murray clan. The current Duke lives in South Africa and we wonder how and why he gets to keep his title and association with the lands if he doesn’t even live in Scotland (where he was born), or visit all that often. That gives big apartheid energy but we will leave that topic lie.
One of the things I deeply appreciate about the castle decor in this region of the highlands is the fact that they have loads of swords arranged in stabby little circles around shields. Blair Castle greets you with so many mounted stabbing and shooting implements in the entry hall, which all had a varying degree of fanciness carved into them.
Many of the rooms are decorated as they would have been, with various displays about the family, the dukes over the years, and how they shaped the manor and Scotland. We liked the planting duke as he was responsible for much of the manor’s gardens and huge trees. One of the duchesses was one of the first female MPs, and she dedicated much of her life to caring for injured and sick people. The castle had an excellent four poster bed collection, lots of china, and some creepy dolls for the kids.
My favorites (minus the stabby entry hall) are the ballroom and the red bedroom, which has some samurai armor gifted by Prince Hirohito (you know, the world war 2 japanese emperor, just in his Prince era), who visited in the early 20s and stayed in the castle.
The gardens are suitably impressive – and they had some sequoia trees near the old church. Thanks, planting duke, you done good.
The one thing that did not greet us here? Cows! We saw the hairy coos in the fields in the distance, but they didn’t come say hi. It’s ok, coos. We can be friends from afar, even though the internet promised me we’d get close here. Coos have minds of their own.
Finally in Edinburgh: we wind through awful road construction and make it just on time to Dishoom! Glorious Dishoom! We stuff ourselves full of Indian food, as I have been waiting to do the entire trip.
I took a meandering route home. We’re staying behind and below the castle, and I begin to plot and ponder how the heck I will get my luggage to the train station for Saturday. The hill, it is a problem. Saturday’s problem.
