Stirling: Day Three

"But soon the sun broke through the heath

And lighted up that field of death,"

The rains made for a gloomy morning. We walked a mile toward Bannockburn Heritage Center, but turned back for home when the rains got too heavy. Had our first married fight, then made up (Know what I mean? Know what I mean? Ey, ey? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink…). After a brief respite in the room, we went out for a Steak Bridie, and, somehow, the magic of meat filled pastries (plus drinks and dessert) that only cost two and a half quid rejuvenated us and we determined to give the walk another go. We walked two miles this time, when we reached a roundabout. This roundabout had underground sidewalks where we chose our direction on the spoke. We chose poorly. We walked up the block, queried the locals and with their assurances, caught a bus, and before we knew it we were in the countryside on the way to Falkirk. Huh. Nervously we asked help of the woman behind us, who just started laughing. Luckily, a chavvy looking kid in a hoodie and track pants came to our rescue! He went up and stopped the bus driver and got us back on the right track. Sort of. At this point, we were a mile or two out of Stirling, but we walked back to the last roundabout and took a left (there was a sign) and walked another mile or two alongside the motorway through thistles and wet grass (we did see some sort of tower ruin) until we reached another roundabout that said “Bannockburn Heritage Site” and took a right. We walked another couple of miles and found the site. In total, we literally walked around half of Stirling. And when I say “literally”, I don’t mean “figuratively”. I mean we actually, really, in true fact, walked half-way around the city! The exhibition had closed 10 minutes before but, undaunted (although wet), we went out to the monument (only after a warning from the staff that they could not guarantee our safety from falling trees). Bannockburn is the field upon which Robert the Bruce seals Scottish independence in 1314, you know, that battle at the end of Braveheart after William Wallace has been quartered… Anyway, we read the moving and poignant plaques, snapped some shots, oohed and aahed over some puppies that had come out for some exercise and then began the journey back. After just a mile we reached the blasted roundabout, in which we took a photo to remind us of the important lessons we learned today: 1. Communication is hard, but makes things harder if it is delayed. 2. Roundabouts will screw you even if you are on foot, so don’t get cocky. 3. Don’t trust matronly looking women, trust the chavvy looking kid (NOTICE: This advice may get you robbed/stabbed/spray painted).

Tomorrow: The Wallace Monument and Stirling Bridge.

More communication to follow…