SCOTLAND--DAY 11

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We spend two nights in Glasgow. This gives us time to tour and time to wander. One certainly complements the other.

Our tour includes a stop at St. Mungo’s Cathedral, an extraordinarily interesting place. It’s beautiful, St. Mungo is buried here, and it is the only remaining medieval cathedral on the Scottish mainland to survive the Reformation unscathed. Knox left quite a bit of damage in his wake. Once St. Mungo’s was a Catholic Cathedral, but now it is part of the High Kirk of Scotland. Its history is as fascinating as its Gothic architecture.

We also get a chance to visit the Burrell Collection, a marvelous museum left to the city by Sir William Burrell, made rich through ship building. Three thousand pieces of the eight thousand piece collection are displayed at any one time, and admission is free. Rob and I spend our time viewing the magnificent tapestry collection. Room after room of tapestry. Outstanding even if you’ve viewed the Met’s Unicorn Tapestries!

The highlight of the day, however, is our Robert Burns dinner. We drive out beyond Edinburgh and view a statue honoring one of Scotland’s greatest heroes, Robert the Bruce, King of the Scots, who fought to free Scotland from English rule. We are greeted by a kilt-clad Scottish piper who musically escorts us to the inn where we dine in true Scottish fashion. We are introduced, once and for all, to haggis, the favored dish of Robert Burns and all true Scotsmen. Burns wrote the famous poem “Ode to the Haggis,” and we are entertained with a rendition by our host before haggis is served to us with all the appropriate pomp and circumstance. Rob loves it, and finds a compatriot in our friend Aggie. I taste it. Actually not so bad. BTW, haggis in a variety of forms is served at breakfast and at other dinners we have. (Michael, remember Boy Scout Camp Ranachqua and the visiting Scottish Boy Scout Troop?)

Also this evening we are treated to Scottish piping—quite different from the Irish pipes—and to Scottish Dancing, including the famous Sword Dance which dates back to 1573.

It’s another delightful and entertaining day and evening, and we are just beginning to get a feeling for this country.

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A YEAR IN PROVENCE

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The only way I can describe Peter Mayle’s A Year in Provence is to say I spent the entire book hungry!!! So hungry that I booked us into the Petite Auberge in San Francisco next May based on the reviews that claim it is like an authentic French Inn with a wonderful French breakfast and wine and hors d’oeuvres in the afternoon. But more on that in 2008. This charming book doesn’t make me want to close up shop here and move, but it does transport me to a lovely earthy world where life can be hard but where the fundamental joys of life are good company, good food, good wine, and pride in one’s craft. Say goodbye to the rushed pace of hours and days, and say hello to the passing of seasons and all that entails. Hard to imagine, and it took Mayle and his wife some time adjusting—about a year.

Mayle and his wife moved from England hoping to enjoy the temperate climate of Provence. Despite their faulty French, they struggled with the local tradespeople. These craftsmen renovated their home—bringing it into the present time, for instance, by installing a central heating system, a necessity once the Mistral winds blowing in from Siberia bitterly assaulted them! Some temperate climate! At every turn they met unique characters and gradually learned to accept a very different way and very Provencal way of approaching life.

Mayle also learned that their new home would become the stopping place of many friends, and many mere acquaintances from England. In fact, at Easter, August, and Christmas they became hosts to a variety of freeloaders.

In the course of the year, Mayle learned to hunt truffles, find ways to avoid outrageous taxes on goods and services, learn that beautiful pieces of carved stone can sit for months before enough labor to move the monstrously heavy work can be assembled at the same time, discover that distributing Christmas tips can be a challenging enterprise, and that the finest food and wine imaginable as well as life's real pleasures can be found little more than a stone’s throw from home.

The Mayles, rather than seeking to adjust life in Provence to them, worked to adjust themselves to life in Provence, and the resulting story is a delight to read. BTW, they still live there!

DORSET INN-SINCE 1796

travel "Third+Age" "Third+Age+Traveler" seniors "senior+travel" "travel+blogs" blog Vermont "Dorset+Vermont" holidays inns "country+inns" restaurants "comfort+food" books leisure photographs photos pictures There’s a mystical relationship between New England and the holiday season—snow blanketing the region and smoke curling from chimneys. One pictures the Little Women’s March family in Massachusetts or Barbara Stanwyck in the movie Christmas in Connecticut. In Vermont we drive through the little towns where the houses are surrounded in snow, the lamp posts are wrapped in lighted garland, and the architecture is reminiscent of the 18th century.

In Dorset, Vermont, the place to be is the Dorset Inn, established in 1796 and the oldest continuously operating inn in the state. Dinner at the Dorset Inn is a special treat. The Inn’s owner and chef, Sissy Hicks, has been there for 23 years. Comfort food is the Inn’s trademark—but gloriously, imaginatively, wholesomely and deliciously prepared.

Her own cookbook, Flavors from the Heart and Jane and Michael Stern’s Comfort Food from the Dorset Inn (in which we searched at the Northshire Bookstore for our delightful dishes) certainly make tantalizing reading.

Before I even get to the menu, picture this: Snow covered lawns in the town of Dorset Vermont, a place of white New England colonials, many salt boxed, on quiet, winding streets. The corner lamp post is wrapped in garland, the sign hanging from it announcing the Dorset Inn established in 1796.

Enter the Inn’s welcoming atmosphere. Holiday decorations abound, and each room exudes welcoming, fire-warmed comforts. At the time of our visit there are photographic displays in the different rooms as well as pottery by a local craftsman.

Dine in one of the several dining rooms. We are four. Rob begins with a Squash and Apple Soup that is out of this world. Robyn tries the Turkey Chili, Neal opts for Herb-crusted Fried Calamari with Mediterranean Salsa, and I choose P.E.I. Mussels in a White Wine Garlic and Leek Broth served with Rupert Rising Garlic Toast. If silence at a table means the guests are enjoying their meal, you could have heard a pin drop at ours.

Would our entrees measure up? Absolutely. I choose Misty Knoll Turkey Croquettes served with mashed potatoes, gravy, peas and cranberry sauce. Wonderful. Robyn chooses Baked Eggplant “Crepes” stuffed with spinach and ricotta cheese baked in tomato-basil sauce and fresh mozzarella. She first has to adjust her thinking to accept that these “crepes” aren’t really crepes, but then she settles down to the satisfying goodness of her dish. Rob selects sautéed calves liver served with mashed potatoes, caramelized onions and vegetables. Our waitress asks how he would like it—suggests medium—and Rob claims he has never had liver so tender or good. Neal’s choice is the grilled swordfish served with artichoke and red onion. Everything is delicious.

Unfortunately we have no room for the tantalizing desserts, but when we settle our check, our waitress brings us a small Dorset Inn bag containing four scones—to sweeten our breakfast, she says. And they do. Tasty and wonderful.
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NATIVE TONGUE--ROLLICKING FUN

Talk about a highly recommended author! June and Carol have been telling me about Carl Hiaasen’s ironic sense of humor for years, and finally I’ve read this thoroughly outrageous, original, and entertaining author. I picked up Native Tongue at our library’s book sale. I bought another novel by him as well, and I will get to it asap (but my list is sooooooo long already). In the Northshire Bookstore in Manchester, Vt., I noticed that he has edited 2007's The Best American Mystery Stories. I bet they’re pips!

Native Tongue is one heck of a crime novel! Our detective, Joe Winder, is a burned out former cop born and raised in Florida who gets pulled kicking and screaming into trying to solve the mystery of the missing last-of-their-species mango voles from a wildlife park whose owner wants to out-Disney Disney. What happens to him as he meets aged, rich environmentalists, New York crime figures, swamp-inhabiting hermits, several hot women, and two of the most unusual crooks one can imagine kept me wanting to find the time to keep reading.

I admit that at first I thought I was reading a silly, nonsensical tale, but then I got hooked by Hiaasen’s bait just as Joe hooks fish at his favorite, soon to be demolished, spot in Florida. Hiassen is happily a Floridian, and he is apparently against the uncontrolled growth that ruined much of what makes Florida unique, but he is not a lecturer, and while the message is clear, it is also painlessly administered.

Haissen is a masterful story teller, and I was never sure what was coming next—murder, theft, sabotage, or fun. Native Tongue is exactly the kind of book you’d like to take along on a vacation. It’s a great read, not at all taxing. The only thing you have to be careful about is drawing attention to yourself as you laugh out loud!

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TRAVEL TIPS-DECEMBER

First, the government reports that the normal wait time of 4-6 weeks is back for Passports. It’s still a good time to make sure you have yours done well in advance of a trip.

Have you signed up for www.AirfareWatchdog.com ? This is a great site to check the fluctuating airfares and to compare fares from different airports in your area. Not only does George Hobica scout regular fares, but also he scouts the deals that may be offered for only a few hours or a few days at a time. It’s definitely worth checking out.

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