Current Location: Tain, Scotland

First of all, to my sister, who is currently in Washington, D.C. attending a conference at the Library of Congress: Happy Birthday! Her age won’t be revealed, suffice to say that she is younger than I am.

In general, I’ve been following my gut when it’s told me that it’s time to leave a place and explore someplace new. Well, actually, I’ve been about a day behind my gut; I stayed in Glasgow a day longer than I meant to (and just about everyone I’ve spoken to agrees with my perception of Glasgow as a bit of a dump; in fact, the only person I’ve met who really liked Glasgow at all was the little old lady who worked the souvenier stand in Glasgow Cathedral — and I think she was paid to say that Glasgow is a nice place), and I stayed in Edinburgh probably a day too long. I couldn’t help it, though; Edinburgh is such a beautiful city with so many different things to do that I had a hard time getting away.

But get away I did. I took the train yesterday to Inverness, a much smaller city than Edinburgh, and one of the newest cities in Scotland (the town itself has been around for hundreds of years, but it was only incorporated as a city about ten years ago or so). I had been led to believe that Inverness would be a boring industrial city, so I wasn’t really looking forward to going there; but instead I found that Inverness was a pleasant enough town with a friendly character all its own. The Bed and Breakfast I am staying at is a charming little place, in a private home, and the owner is very friendly. She gets a certain sort of maniacal joy out of seating perfect strangers next to each other and encouraging people to talk. "First of all," she told me as soon as I showed up, "breakfast is at 8:30, no exceptions. You’re sitting over there next to the American couple from New York and the single gentleman from Sweden. You’ll have a lovely time." In the morning she introduced me as "Mr. Crawford from California, who will be married in July, isn’t that lovely?"

I wanted some time to explore Inverness, but I had an errand to run. My stepfather has recently received his certificate of legitimacy from the highland clan that he is descended from, and I thought it would be interesting to go up to the city of Tain, the seat of his clan, and have a look around, perhaps visit the castle that serves as the clan seat, and maybe even meet the clan chief. So that first morning in Inverness, I left the B&B and went to the train station to take the train up to the city of Tain.

Local legend has it that the town of Tain (variably spelled Tayne) has been in existence in the same spot since the year 1066. Some of the locals that I spoke with believe that legend, but the people in the museum and the historical society don’t; according to them, the city is not that old. The oldest reference to Tain comes from a piece of parchment dating from 1479 referring to a meeting between two nobles in the town in 1463. This means that Tain, a community of less than ten thousand people (including the surrounding hamlets and villages) has been around longer than the United States. This is more of that continuous ongoing history that the British, Scots, and Irish live and breathe every single day and which seems alien to a Californian such as myself. Indeed, throughout the British Isles, I’ve found that history fairly seeps from the land itself, a palpable substance that informs everything that happens here. And the Brits, Scots, and Irish are all fiercely proud of their history and their heritage. The people of Tain are no exception.

Seeing the castle which is the seat of Clan Ross is, unfortunately, impossible; it is currently owned by Mohammed Al’Fayid, an Egyptian fellow who has been trying unsuccessfully to obtain British citizenship for years. And the chief of Clan Ross currently lives in Aberdeenshire, which is too far out of my way to consider visiting. What I could do in the city was explore a bit, take the walking tour, visit the Tain through Time exhibition at the local museum, and meet some of the people here. As are all of the people in the British Isles, the people of Tain are without exception friendly, engaging, and outgoing. Their grasp of technology is a bit behind mine, of course; when I asked one fellow if there was an internet connection anywhere within the city, he gave me a strange look. "What’s an internet?" he asked me in all sincerity. When talking with the curator of the Tain museum, I found that the further north in Scotland you go, the more traditional people become. People in the most remote parts of northern Scotland, such as in the Orkney Isles, may not even have televisions and cars; a lifestyle unthinkable to modern Americans, I think, but I’ve encountered such a lifestyle before, on the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland (and such a lifestyle certainly has its advantages — the people of the Aran Islands live, on average, about two years longer than their more stressed out neighbors in Ireland and the UK; and the same is apparently true for the people of the Ornkey Islands as well).

Tain is a beautiful, beautiful town. I can’t see myself enjoying it for very long (I’d want to take the 50 mile journey to Inverness every weekend for something to do) but I can see my parents loving it. Most of the buildings are of 18th or 19th century construction though there are some buildings (notably St. Duthac’s Chapel and Church) which have stood for much longer. Tain itself was a popular spot for Christian pilgrimages because its church held the sacred head of St. Duthac, until the Reformation (when pilgrimages were banned and the head of St. Duthac — and his breastbone and one other relic, which escapes me for now) were presented to the Earl of Ross in Balnagowan Castle).

Visiting Tain was almost a pilgrimage for me. While I told myself that visiting the city was a favor for my stepfather, I’ve come to realize that it was more for myself than for him.

For the spiritually inclined of ages past, going on a pilgrimage meant going to a holy shrine to view the relics of a saint or other holy personage. For me, coming here meant setting myself a goal, figuring out how to achieve it, and making it happen. I’ve never been very good at setting goals and making them happen, so this was a big achievement for me.

I spent the afternoon in Tain, exploring, meeting people, taking pictures, taking in the scenery and the quiet atmosphere (the only sound was the din of hundreds of birds in the trees). I could have found accommodations in Tain instead of Inverness, but, in a way, I’m glad I didn’t.

My next stop after Inverness is York in England. It will be sad to leave Scotland, but it’s time to move on.

On another note, this is the 100th entry in my on-line journal. Well, okay, I find that cool!