Barb, Allie and I ventured to the Duncan ancestral homeland. It was the first time there for Allie and Barb. For me, the trip followed some of the path of a vacation with Mom and Dad in 1974, but with more golf.
We kicked around the idea of a family vacation to England and Scotland as far back as 2001 when 9/11 upended the idea of international travel for a long while. (It would be interesting to see the analytics of this article applied to the COVID-19 pandemic. I daresay the effect on travel has been significantly greater.) For all of 2002 we only did driving vacations near home and in 2003 we ventured to Denmark for our first international trip with Allie, partly because it seemed like a safe, non-terroristy destination. Barb went to China with Leslie in late 2003 to get Emery and only had the tail end of the SARS outbreak to deal with. No big deal.
Once I semi-retired in 2003 we were ready for some bigger trips. We made a celebratory return to Hawaii in June 2004 and I started planning this trip to Scotland.
Our Scotland stops and golf courses, plus Fort William in the west
I knew I wanted to incorporate some golf in the trip so I ended up connecting with Perry Golf, a specialist in golf tour travel packages. They offered the option of customizing a tour and taking care of tee times and such. I had a handful of courses I wanted to play so I worked via email with an agent, Gerry Haggerty (he was based in Atlanta but at least the name sounded Scottish), to cook up an itinerary for us. It was a convenient way to arrange the trip — more expensive than doing it on our own but it got us into the right places at the right times.
Saturday, August 21
We flew to Edinburgh via Manchester on United, leaving the evening of August 20 from Dulles. We arrived in Edinburgh the morning of the 21st and were met by a Perry Golf representative who helped us get to our rental car. Not a tough assignment for him. I had to immediately get used to driving on the wrong side of the road as we headed out of the airport and navigated into town. I remember the first traffic circle was a challenge but after that things got easier.
We made it to the Sheraton Grand Hotel without incident, checked in and were able to get into our room to unloaded our bags and freshen up. By the early afternoon we had time and energy to do some initial scouting of the city.
The Sheraton was quite close to Edinburgh Castle and the Royal Mile, though we had to climb a steep hill to get there. The weather was cooperative and it stayed light until quite late so we had time for a good wander, though we didn’t really know much about what we were seeing. I don’t have any particular notes or memories of what we did for food or anything. We just played tourists.
First day in Edinburgh, from the Castle ramparts, I believe.
Sunday, August 22
This was our day to more properly explore Edinburgh but first we checked out of the hotel and packed our car before heading back uphill to the Castle. We started with a guided tour of Edinburgh Castle, getting a dose of the Castle’s long history and getting myself quickly confused about Scottish and English royalty and their interactions. We admired the Portcullis Gate, the Scottish crown jewels, the giant cannon Mons Meg, and saw the firing of the One O’Clock Gun. We wandered through the National War Museum, largely overwhelmed by the amount of stuff we knew very little about.
There is a lot to see and do at the Castle and we only covered the highlights in several hours there. One thing we didn’t do was get tickets for the Military Tattoo which occurs nightly in August. The tickets were hard to get in the first place and somewhat expensive. We convinced ourselves that we didn’t need to spend hours in crowded grandstands to see an evening of bagpipes and military maneuvers on our one night in Edinburgh, but I kind of wish we did.
View from the Castle 
Outside National War Museum 
On the Castle’s Tattoo grounds 
Heading downhill from the castle, we explored the Royal Mile, the main street that links the Castle with the Holyrood Palace. The street is largely given over to tourist shops and restaurants. We had lunch at one of the places that purported to have a literary history but I can’t quite figure out which. We watched some street performances for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival which was underway, but we didn’t have time for a complete show (and wouldn’t have know what to pick in the first place).
Eventually we made it down to the bottom of the street and took an audio tour of Holyrood Palace. This is the Queen’s residence when she’s in town, which is infrequent (one week each year). Mostly it’s a museum with a great deal of history of its own, little of which rings a bell with me now. I was (and still largely am) deeply confused about James VI and I, who was the son of Mary, Queen of Scots and succeeded Elizabeth I. Many of the palace and castle stories revolved around his Jacobean reign which overlapped with Shakespeare, Guy Fawkes and the founding of Jamestown and Plymouth. He was also the King James of Bible fame. Barb had a much better grasp on all this than I did, and she still does though I’m very slowly catching up.
Getting the audio tour at Holyrood Palace
The ruin of Holyrood Abbey in the rear of the palace grounds was a little spooky. There was a good view from there of Arthur’s Seat, the volcanic hill that rises as part of Holyrood Park. I would like to have climbed Arthur’s Seat for the view if we had more time.
Holyrood Abbey entrance 
Allie at Holyrood Abbey
Working our way back uphill toward the castle and our hotel, we were surprised to see the ultra-modern Scottish Parliament building that was just about ready to open. Further up the road, we stopped for a fish and chips snack at Bene’s (which is still there) and were amazed at the Scottish proclivity to fry anything, including Mars candy bars. We stuck with the fish and chips.
Thus fortified, we headed back to the hotel and made the one-hour drive to the Gleneagles Hotel, a fine country resort with two golf courses of its own. We had a fine dinner in the hotel that evening.
We clearly left a lot of Edinburgh unseen — we hardly got off the Royal Mile. I would like to return eventually to spend more time exploring the city, its history and surroundings.
Monday, August 23
I left the girls early for a round of golf on the Kings Course. I brought my own clubs on this trip and for this round got a pull cart. It was that, carry the clubs or spend a bundle on a caddy. I was happy with the pull cart. The itinerary says I had a 10am tee time but I recall getting one of the earliest tee times and the morning was cool and cloudy…but maybe that was 10am in Scotland. I think I played with one other fellow for at least the first nine and then I played the back nine on my own. It wasn’t a great round and the course was nice but not especially memorable. But it was a good warm up for the rest of the vacation.
I left the girls to sleep in late and get breakfast on their own. I caught up with them after my round and got a couple of pictures in front of the main hotel building.
In the afternoon we took a drive to Stirling Castle where we again got a confusing dose of Scottish history. I tried to make sense of folks like Robert the Bruce and William Wallace and the Battle of Bannockburn near the castle, but it was still mostly a blur. The views from the castle ramparts were great, however.
We returned to Gleneagles for a second night and another proper dinner in the main restaurant. I sampled a nice whiskey (or two?) in the bar after the girls went to bed.
Tuesday, August 24
We checked out of Gleneagles after a nice breakfast and drove to Carnoustie where I had an 11am tee time. The Carnoustie golf course is one of the most famous and difficult of the British Open rota and one I most wanted to play. It was the site of Jean van de Velde’s epic collapse on the final hole of the 1999 Open which I remember watching in horror at the time as he triple bogeyed the Championship away. I remembered much of the course from the TV coverage, especially Hogan’s Alley with its tight out of bounds, The Spectacles with its defining sand traps, the commuter train that rattled alongside many holes, and the famous final three holes featuring the meandering Barry Burn.
I actually played the course pretty well, in fact it was one of the most enjoyable rounds of golf in my life. I was in a foursome of mostly agreeable players, one or two of them knew the course; they could offer some tips but didn’t mind playing with tourists. I shot a respectable (for me) 88, one better than Sergio Garcia’s first round in 1999.
Unfortunately, for the girls there was very little to do in Carnoustie. The hotel was mainly the golf course clubhouse. I’m not sure there was even a pool or if it was open. The ladies did a short wander of the small town for souvenirs and came back mostly empty handed. I think they spent most of the afternoon reading in the lobby while they waited for our room to come available.
Once we were in the room, I was delighted to find it overlooked the 1st tee and 18th hole, just under the famous art-deco clock tower. I could have stayed there quite a while watching golfers come and go but that would not have been a popular choice for the rest of our party.
Instead, we bundled back in the car for a relatively short drive across the River Tay to the more touristy St. Andrews, site of the famous Old Course as well as the University of St. Andrews and the West Sands beach where they filmed the opening of Chariots of Fire.
We got to St. Andrews and found ourselves a place to park not far from the clubhouse of the Old Course. We started with a few minutes of goofiness on a park bench as we tried to explain the significance of St. Andrews to Allie. She was not convinced.
We posed for some pictures by the Old Course first tee and 18th green with the clubhouse for the Royal and Ancient Golf Club behind, both the clubhouse for the course and headquarters for the ruling body for golf in most of the world. The Old Course is effectively a public park so you can wander on it so long as you stay out of the way of the golfers. By the time we got there, the last foursomes had gone off the first tee but there was still a steady stream of golfers coming up the 18th.
I gave some consideration when planning the trip whether to play the Old Course again. I had done it many years before with Mom and Dad when we toured Scotland. I decided to live with that memory rather than include it in this trip’s itinerary. I’m happy with that decision, but even happier that we made this afternoon pilgrimage with Barb and Allie. I daresay we had more fun in our hour or two in the vicinity than I would have with a day of my own on the links.
The small Swilcan Bridge on the 18th fairway is one of the most famous sites in golf, the stage for farewell photos of many of the sport’s greats. And us!
The 17th hold at St. Andrews, known as The Road Hole, is one of the most famous and difficult in golf. The road and low wall are right next to the green. We spent a few minutes watching players come into the green, some of us trying not to disturb them too much.
Allie on the wall at The Road Hole 
Barb bugging some golfers
After letting me swoon around the Old Course for a while, we went down to the adjacent West Sands Beach where they filmed the opening sequence of Chariots of Fire. We directed Allie to re-enact the running scene even though she’d never seen the movie. She got the spirit.
We took a little longer to wander around the town of St. Andrews, including the haunting ruins of St. Andrews Cathedral.
We ended back at the Old Course for a final couple of photos in the gloaming, well after 9pm.
I’m not sure where we ate but we ended up getting something relatively quick in St. Andrews before heading back to Carnoustie for the evening. I tucked the girls into the room before heading back down to the bar in the Carnoustie Hotel for a single malt nightcap, served neat with a side of water.
This was, in all, one of the most perfectly enjoyable days of my life, starting with breakfast at Gleneagles, a good round of golf at one of the world’s great courses, a fun afternoon/evening with Barb and Allie sightseeing at St. Andrews and finishing with a quiet nightcap at Carnoustie. I’m glad we have lots of pictures to remember it.
Wednesday, August 25
We awoke and I took one last look out our room at the first tee and 18th green at Carnoustie. I would put my golf clubs away for a few days as we played tourists on the road to the Highlands and to see more of Scotland.
Carnoustie first tee 
Carnoustie 18th green 
We commenced our drive north toward Inverness.
Our first stop was a Duncan clan “museum” I’d learned about online. The writeup made it sound like a proper museum. We looked forward to learning more about our clan history.
Clan Donnachaidh Museum is dedicated to the clan which bears its name. The name Donnachaidh means “children of Duncan.” Inside the museum you will discover a variety of items, including documents, pictures, books and so forth, which relate to the clan of Donnachaidh. Also contained in this fascinating Scottish museum is the mystical Stone of the Standard or Clan na Bratach. The museum of the clan of Donnachaidh was established in 1969 by the Duke of Atholl and is situated at Bruar Falls of Perthshire. It also serves as the base for the Donnachaidh Clan Society.
We didn’t have much of an address other than Bruar Falls in Perthshire. We followed the main A9 highway into the rugged and increasingly bleak Highlands, on the edge of the Cairngorms National Park. We passed a sign for Bruar Falls and decided that we’d missed the exit, so did a U-turn when we could and went back. We pulled into a little roadside gas station and “department store” that would pass for a service plaza on the New Jersey Turnpike. It turned out that was the spot.
The “Clan Museum” was actually a Clan Museum Shop in what appeared to be an old gas station building. There was no museum to speak of, nor many “documents, pictures, books and so forth”. There were two small rooms of Duncan and Robertson kitsch knickknacks and tourist souvenirs. I think the shopkeeper made an excuse that the museum was under construction or something, but 16 years later Google Maps shows the shop looks pretty much the same. It was worth a sad laugh. We bought a few of the knickknacks and still have some around the house. We even found one or two with the clan motto, Disce Pati, though most of them had the alternate, “Virtutis Gloria Merces” (Glory is the reward for valor).
After squeezing an hour or so out of the “museum” and the adjacent department store, we got back on the road, skirting the Cairngorm mountains and park. We made our way onto the “Whiskey Trail” though we didn’t stop at any of the official sites on the trail. Instead, I made my way to the nearby Macallan distillery since that was my favorite drink at the time. We took the distillery tour which was mildly interesting and I got Barb’s share as well as my own of the tasting samples at the end. Well worth it! I bought a few bottles for the rest of the trip and to take home, though honestly the prices were better at duty free.
Leaving the distillery, we rounded a corner and passed the factory for Walker’s shortbread. Barb and Allie insisted on a stop and I was not hard to convince. There was no factory tour available, but there was a good shop that had off-price factory seconds. We bought several large bags of shortbread bits that sustained us through the rest of the trip. Barb stocked up on presents for people at her work.
We made our way on to Inverness and found our hotel for the evening, the Glenmoriston Town House, a nice inn right on the River Ness. We wandered the town a bit and found a place for dinner. I remembered that it was in Inverness with my parents many years before that I first had a Steak Diane and loved it ever since. We were not able to find that dish again, but we had a pleasant time walking in the town and along the river.
Thursday, August 26
Inverness sits on the River Ness which flows just six miles from Loch Ness, a long narrow lake, home of the Loch Ness Monster, of course (or is it?). We followed the loch southwest for a ways until we came to a little tourist attraction stop where thought it was appropriate to take Allie’s picture for Kid’s Post, the Washington Post section. Allie was already somewhat jaded by this process, but I’m pretty sure this is one of the photos that ended up in the paper.
Pretty sure this photo made it into The Washington Post
About midway down the loch sits Urquhart Castle with commanding views up and down the loch. We walked down to the castle and explored the ruins. There’s not a whole lot to see other than the loch and the surrounding countryside, though it was fun to encounter a piper in quilts doing his duty posing for tourist photos. We didn’t see Nessie, though we tried.
No Nessie, but we found this guy.
We drove onward to the west coast of Scotland. I was surprised to find this cove with a very nice sand beach. It reminded me greatly of the setting for the film Local Hero, one of my favorites. It’s not the same beach, but it’s a reminder that Scotland has lots of hidden gem locations, generally marred only by the atrocious weather.
We settled that evening in a little inn near Fort William, The Moorings Hotel. The hotel sits by a lock on the Caledonian Canal and we were promised “splendid panoramic views of Ben Nevis and Aonach Mor” except there were scudding low clouds that evening and the next morning so we never saw much of anything. We did have a nice meal at the hotel, though.
Friday, August 27
In 2004, Allie and Barb were deeply immersed in the Harry Potter series of novels and films. The fifth book, Order of the Phoenix, had come out the year before, and the third film, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, premiered just two months before our trip. It was inevitable that we would seek out at least some Harry Potter sights on this trip.
We had thoughts of taking the Harry Potter train and/or seeing the train pass over the Glenfinnan Viaduct but neither of those actually worked out. We didn’t have six hours to do the train (and I think it was either not running or already sold out by the time we investigated). The Viaduct is near Fort William but it was in the wrong direction for us and I convinced the girls it was not worth seeing a bridge from the road on a foggy, cloudy day, and we had a fairly long drive down to Turnberry.
If we’d had another day or two, I would have made more of an effort to drive west from Fort William to see the viaduct and out to the end of the peninsula at Mallaig. I might also try to take in the Isle of Skye. But those will have to remain options for another journey, maybe someday.
Instead, we headed south a ways to the site near Glen Coe where Hagrid’s Hut was set for the Prisoner of Azkaban film. This was evidently one of the largest sets actually built on site in Scotland. We found the location thanks to a couple of small road signs and we were the only ones there that morning. The sets had been completely dismantled from filming the year before and the site returned to nature, but the location was very recognizable. The hill was very steep and it’s a wonder they could actually fit a film crew and all their equipment into the location.
Hagrid’s Hut set from the film 
We spent quite a while rambling up and down the hill, trying to figure out where various scenes were shot. Allie re-enacted the scene of Hermione hiding behind a tree with Buckbeak and Harry. She threw little stones at herself, which might make sense if you’ve seen the film. It was great to be the only ones there.
Hermione, Buckbeak and Harry in the woods by Hagdrid’s 
We headed south from Glen Coe, aiming to get to Turnberry at a reasonable hour. I skipped the Argyll Coastal Route and visiting the little town and distillery at Oban which was another one of my favorites at the time. We made a short stop at the visitor center at Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park which looked lovely but we didn’t take time to explore the area.
We skirted the suburbs of Glasgow to arrive at the Turnberry Resort around 4pm. We had tried to make it in time for the girls to have tea. I think they ran down to the restaurant but they were not serving a proper high tea. The girls made do with a pot of tea and a couple of a la carte items but it was not highly satisfactory.
Turnberry was a venerable resort and site of four memorable British Opens in my lifetime. After Carnoustie and the Old Course at St. Andrews, it was the Scottish course I most wanted to play. In my defense, we visited more than a decade before Donald Trump bought the property and forever sullied Turnberry’s reputation. When we visited it was a Westin resort which was questionable enough. One hopes the resort can recover someday.
While the ladies were at tea, I got myself sorted out for golf in the morning and explored the grounds for a bit. We had dinner at the resort but I don’t remember it being anything terribly special.
Saturday, August 28
My round of golf on the Ailsa Course was not as glorious as at Carnoustie. I didn’t play as well and the course, while lovely, did not knock me out quite the way Carnoustie did.
Me and my foursome
While I was golfing, the girls spent some time at the indoor pool and also took a tour of the resort. They spent some time at the falconry center and saw a collection of owls which reminded them of Harry Potter, again. One of the little owls danced with Allie like Pickwidgeon.
Quite like Pickwidgeon 
We checked out that afternoon and drove back toward the Edinburgh airport for one final night in Scotland before our flight home in the morning. We stayed at the Norton House which turned out to be quite nice and was playing host to a proper Scottish wedding party that night. We saw lots of dapper Scottish lads and lassies in kilts and fancy attire. We somehow fell asleep to the sounds of disco dancing down the hall. I seem to recall a fair amount of ABBA.
Sunday, August 28
We got up very early to make our 6:45am shuttle to the airport for our flights home.
I feel like we packed quite a lot into one week in Scotland and we had a very good time. There remains quite a lot I’d still like to see, and I hope we can return at some point. I’d love to see more of the wild western coast and islands, explore the highlands more properly, and see more of the history and sights of Edinburgh and Glasgow.
I do feel comfortable in the Scottish environment — I feel like I do have an ancestral affinity for the scenery and the people, if not the weather (though as I get older even the cooler weather gets more appealing).
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