A man in full traditional Scottish dress greeted us at the door – finally, I have seen somebody wearing a kilt! – and ushered us into the family room to tell us a bit about the history of the house and 190 acre estate. Built in 1791, the house has possessed a variety of owners and has even been visited by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in the 19th century. During the early 20th century, the Burn House belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Russell and their children James and Marjorie. However, in 1944, James Russell, aged 21, was killed in action during WWII. Thus, in 1948, the family decided to donate the house in James’ memory to be used as a holiday and study center for students, graduates, and academic staff around the world. Pretty generous, eh? Now the house has been completely modernized and includes a drawing room, dining room, TV room, indoor games room, and 18 bedrooms.
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| the Burn House |
After learning about the very touching history of the house, we sat down to eat a hearty Scottish dinner, during which David (the man in the kilt) introduced us to the most popular, and most sickening, soda in Scotland: Irn Bru (think liquidized cotton candy). And I thought haggis was going to be the most disgusting thing Scotland had to offer… Once we were finished with our meal, David directed us to the drink cart (fortunately Irn Bru free) where we all fixed ourselves a steamy cup of tea before settling down in a variety of squashy armchairs to receive our first lecture on Scottish writer Lewis Crassic Gibbon. I have come to notice that Scotland has a tendency to make me feel very absurd – here I was, holding a fancy little cup and saucer of tea, nibbling on delicious buttery biscuits, and listening to a very intelligent Scottish man teach me about tartantry and tradition. Like I said, absurd.
The next day, we received a couple of more lectures before setting off on our first field trip to Dunnottar Castle! I’ve been longing to see a castle since I first read Harry Potter, but I don’t think I was really prepared for just how striking the experience would be. The day was a pretty nondescript one, windy and drizzly, until we stepped around a corner of a little stony path and there it was – Dunnottar Castle, a ruined medieval fortress sitting atop a rocky headland, surrounded by steep cliffs plunging about 50 meters into the North Sea. It almost hurt to look at it.
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| Dunnottar Castle |
Like any over excitable girl from a landlocked state, I first scampered down to the water to stand in the waves and fill my pockets with seashells and pretty rocks. I regret this decision now, because it turns out that these sorts of treasures aren’t nearly as lovely when you take them away from their home.
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| my collection of seashells |
After exploring the shoreline, I picked my way up to the narrow strip of land to visit the actual buildings, largely built in the 15th and 16th centuries (although the site is believed to have been an early fortress of the Dark Ages). Before coming to Scotland, I always thought of castles to be a sort of thing you appreciated from afar; I never imagined actually getting the chance to wander through the individual rooms. There was so much to take in – crumbling spiral staircases, mossy passageways, and far too many exhilarating views of craggy cliffs and the pebbly grey shoreline below. Leaving was a melancholy affair, but when we got back to the house, David had set out tea and chocolate muffins for us next to a crackling fire in the family room. I wish he could have come back to Glasgow with us…
The next day, I woke up early to go on a run and explore the grounds. I didn’t actually get that much of a workout in, however, because I kept getting distracted by the river, cows, grassy knolls, heather, thistle, and turning fall colors. At one point I even ended up stumbling upon an old ruin of some sort, just lurking in the forest, growing saplings from its floor. Another interesting discovery was a long stone tunnel that traveled from one side of the house to the other. David told us that this was the "Cattle Tunnel." Apparently, the former lady of the house did not like seeing the cows pass from pasture to pasture right through her yard everyday, therefore, the tunnel was built so that their daily movement would go undetected. Oooh rich people.
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| the "Cattle Tunnel" |
After the run and breakfast, we all tried our best to beg David to let us stay at the Burn House for the rest of the term, but alas, it was time to leave. We said our tearful goodbyes to David and the house and set off on our final excursion to Edzell Castle. Edzell is also a ruined 16th century castle, but is significantly less rugged than Dunnottar – more of a country home than a defensive fortress. It is still very beautiful though with reddish stone buildings surrounding the courtyard and many sheep grazing around its perimeters. The castle also includes a walled garden, laid out by Sir David Lindsay in 1604. Intricate relief carvings line the walls that surround the immaculate hedges and roses and apparently this type of garden is unique to Scotland. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of work that goes into maintaining it.
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| view of the Edzell garden - taken from inside the castle |
After Edzell, it was unfortunately time to journey back through the hills to Glasgow. Yet even though we don't have any Davids in kilts to serve us tea and chocolate muffins here, at least we are surrounded by good company.
For more pictures of the Burn House, Dunnottar, and Edzell, click here!
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| The Burn House, Dunnottar, & Edzell |
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