We caught our first glimpse of the Fatherland at sunrise. The pink sun spread its brilliant rays across the lush land of colorful countryside, cottages, and castles. We flew afar with a slew of DARs - Daughters of the American Revolution - whose journey's purpose was the same as ours. We all awed at the view as we soared across the shimmering Firth of Forth seas that envelope Scotland's cultural epicenter, Edinburgh (properly pronounced Edinburra).
This is where our genealogical journey begins.
After deplaning from our short six hour 'hop across the pond', as the locals say, we hopped into our colorful carriage. The smiley chauffer sauntered down single lane roads lined with tall trees and centuries old stone walls snuggled in ivy.
Momi couldn't seem to get over how much the scenery of greenery reminded her of her Hawaiian homeland, until I reminded her that this is a subtly different type of island where the menehune wear kilted lava-lavas that cover more territory.
We soon turned at an opening where a long driveway unfolded before us and wound our way to our new native home. The Dalmahoy Hotel stood royally before us, an estate manor armored in stone and topped with turrets. We were greeted with Ceud Mile Failte (A Hundred Thousand Welcomes) by Jack & Jonathan, our castle cabana boys who ensured our every courtesy was provided. As our room was readied, one of those courtesies included a tall steeping cylinder of steamy, creamy hot cocoa that we sipped in the drawing room overlooking the vast hills and fairways.
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| Momi's Manor at Dalmahoy |
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Jack was from Spain and spoke with a Barcelona brogue sauteed in Scottish. Whenever he said something, we both leaned in with our one good ear between us, and learned to just nod and say yes. This seemed to fare us well, as he provided us a room with a magnificent view. We had to maze through the manor to get there, but it was well worth the price of admission. From our window, we watch smoke rise from the chimney of the one thatched cottage in sight. We lazily gaze at hillaciousness as far as the eye can see, dotted with white and woolly, fat and furry sheep. I suppose there must be many more sheep than there are sheepboys around these parts, or cowboys for that matter, because my cowboy boots I traveled in on have received many jolly jeers. And they aren't even my bedazzled ones.
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| Sunset descending on Dalmahoy |
As we settled in, we strategized our priorities & plan of ancestry attack, which quickly taxed us. So we quickly resorted to dining at the Leisure Club on site, where we learned there's lots to love about the Scots idea of leisure. Truly, the queen has arrived at her castle and it remains to be seen whether she will ever be removed from it.
We concluded our first night in our royal chambers with the perfectly proper perk, as a manor or speaking: Downton Abbey. We watched on our telly the latest episode of the current season, not yet airing in the US. For those of you clamoring for sordid details, it would be beneath the dignity of this house to provide such. You shant begrudge me if I am not forthcoming with this stylish piece of information. But to quote the Dowager from tonight's episode, "it entails things most shocking to those in 1924." So until it properly airs there, follow Mrs. Hughes' advise and "go as far in life as God and luck allow." That is afterall our Scotland strategy.
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The Queen Mother greeting her royal peeps
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Stay tuned for our continued tale of two lasses as we sip & sup on the Queen's yacht, venture the regalities of the royal mile, scale castle walls, wander the land of William Wallace, and see a man about a Buchanan.
