I awoke this morning remembering my teen-age years, sitting by a record player, and listening over and over to the 78 rpm recordings of “Brigadoon.” I was enchanted by the story of two hunters who got lost in the woods and come upon the magical village of Brigadoon. Rising out of the Scottish mist only once every 100 years, and only for one day, Brigadoon is an enchanted place where life is simpler. When Tommy, the main character, falls for beautiful Fiona, he must decide whether to stay or to return to his life.
Maybe I have always been a romantic. Or maybe it’s my wee bit of Scottish heritage from my paternal grandmother, Mary Campbell, who I never knew, but am now intrigued to know more about.
At any rate, we gathered this morning for a trip first to Oban, and then on to the Isle of Mull and Duart Castle.
The coach deposited us in Oban for a bit of time to explore, and after a brief walk about the town, we opted for FOOD, and boy, did we ever hit the jackpot. Our tour guide, Sandra, told us about the freshly caught seafood, which magnetized us and even though it was only 11 am, we couldn’t resist.
First, the freshly caught mussels in wine and garlic sauce. And because those were so good, we HAD to try the oysters!
Honestly, we can’t ever recall enjoying fresher, tastier morsels. When we are asked, “What is the best seafood you’ve ever eaten?” We will answer, “In Oban, Scotland, along the wharf, at the freshest little eatery.”
And then it was on to the Isle of Mull by ferry. It was an easy trip, and the water was calm.
Moments of bright sunlight brought out the sunglasses, albeit for 5 minutes or less, but hey, inScotland,any sunshine is good sunshine. The coach took us toDuart Castle, the historic home of the MacLean clan, and currently occupied by the clan chief and his family, including a wee white Westie.
I had made special arrangements to be met by a kilted guide and told him to look for a bonny lass dressed in clan leggings!
Believe that one and I’ll give you a good price on the Brooklyn Bridge! But I did not ask the pressing question, “What do Scots wear under their kilts?” Actually, I did not want to know, although earlier in the day I discovered the answer to that query!!
The castle itself is a museum as well as home to the clan chief and features a delightful tearoom.
In my opinion, this was the creepiest artifact in the museum. . .a candelabra from three of the horse’s hooves that survived the Charge of the Light Brigade and then lived out its life as a gift to royalty.
The Ladies of the Manor who do NOT do chamber pots!
Winding our way home, Sandra regaled us with stories of Scotland. . .tartans, bagpipes, haggis, and then I drifted into and out of sleep, perhaps clouded by misty water-color memories of Brigadoon. I think I heard something about the “pap of Glencoe,” which she indicated was the mounded outcropping on the hill. . .or did she say that “pap” means “breast” or was I just dreaming. . . .