Schottland 1974, Teil 13 … Scotland 1974, part 13

The photo does not have any connection to part 13, I just thought it was funny. I found out that there are different warning signs for elderly people in Scotland. 😀 From the distances mentioned, this should have been near Torlinnhe guest house, but there is nothing to find on Google Earth. What I did see there, were road signs in two languages, English and Gaelic … 😉 … that’s new.

Die deutsche Version findet ihr HIER zusammen mit Teil 14.

Mountquhanie Estate-Stirling-Glasgow

July 29, 1974 (Monday)

Cross-eyed, tongue-biting Francesca, who is actually very nice, drives us to the main road to Edinburgh the next morning, on the orders of Bob, who kisses us goodbye. Bob is a really nice, down to earth guy.

We arrive there around noon already, and there are only two beds left in the youth hostel. So we would have to sit in front of the door for two hours to be the first when it opens at 2 p.m. We say thank you very much and move on to Stirling. This city is very nice, with old half-timbered houses and a small castle-like building with an inner courtyard and lattice gate as a youth hostel.

View on Stirling from Stirling Castle, photo:

In the evening we go the inevitable walk to the pub, the ’Red Lion’, a pub for young people, where a lonely guitarist makes music. Here we see a boy with the currently so modern, individual, coloured strands of hair. Also popular are those Spanish matador pants with a high waist and then an earring in the left ear. In the cities, the boys also run around with pants that only go to the ankle, but have wide legs (the trousers). The girls all look the same on Friday evening, because almost without exception they wear the latest fashion and makeup, without much variation. Of course, we really stick out, no make-up in our backpacks.

The Red Lion pub does not seem to exist anymore, so I give you a city scenery. I like Stirling.

July 30, 1974 (Tuesday)

The next morning we plan a trip to Bannockburn, where Malcolm’s mother lives. We can get there without difficulty, but neither Mrs. MacInnes nor Malcolm and Margaret are at home. They will probably spend a few more days in their caravan in Morar, they had hinted at something like that. Since we‘ are in a bad mood anyway, we stroll around Bannockburn and spend most of our time eating.

Bannockburn, back to historical times …

[History: The Battle of Bannockburn (24 June 1314) was a significant Scottish victory in the First War of Scottish Independence, and a landmark in Scottish history.
Stirling Castle, a Scots royal fortress, occupied by the English, was under siege by the Scottish army. Edward II of England assembled a formidable force to relieve it. This attempt failed, and his army was defeated in a pitched battle by a smaller army commanded by Robert I of Scotland (Robert the Bruce).
I don’t want to be negative, but unfortunately it doesn’t seem to have helped them much …]

July 31, 1974 (Wednesday) (July 31 to August 2; departure August 3, Saturday)

The next day we continue to Glasgow. We want to spend the next three days there, such idiotcy! We don’t know what to do without Margaret, who is at Loch Windermere with Eddie and the girls. Mainly we go shopping and get bored. My best friend is homesick and finally wants to go home, while I would like to move on forever. In the evening we don’t dare to go anywhere on our own, except to a really nice Italian restaurant, where they are very friendly and courteous.

Youth hostel in Glasgow, Park Terrace, photo:

Some of the other hostel guests tell us stories that once again put the friendliness and helpfulness of the Scots in their true light. A very young American was picked up by an elderly couple somewhere in the country, soaked in the rain. They took him home, gave him food and let him stay overnight while his clothes were drying. The next morning they gave him a thick sweater as a present.

Another boy says he was stranded alone in Glasgow one night. A police officer gathered all the young hitchhikers he came across in the shelter of a bus stop, because it was too dangerous at night alone in Glasgow.

One evening we are walking in the vicinity of the youth hostel when a blond, slightly drunk Scot approaches us. I think his name is Alex. He really wants to show us a really great pub. On the way there he keeps slapping us clumsily on the shoulder. The barmaid in the pub is classy to look at, with short, straight, black hair, very painted, but that probably follows with the profession. Alex calls her ’Fury’: „This is Fury, she is a really good friend“.

Then he drags us to another pub, where, it seems to me, mainly very young girls (around 13 years old) and older men hang out. One of them joins us, a friend of our blonde. He is a typical slime and tries to get into conversation with me. He tries out all sorts of topics, including football (yawn). Every time he tries, I just reply: „I do not know anything about this!“ or „I am not interested in that!“ – That way I get rid of him very soon. [I wonder why we went with this guy in the first place, but I guess we had to pass the time somehow. We didn’t have too much of a drive at that time.]

Coming back to the hostel, a letter from my African friend is waiting for me, in which he gives me precise instructions regarding his boots. Snake skin is out! How good that we didn’t buy them at the beginning of the trip. 😉

(To be continued)