I flew in over a green golf course, exited plane to be hit by gusty winds, and entered the airport to see several men in kilts lined up for boarding. All my preconceived notions about Scotland were met in the first few minutes. The Scottish theme continued as I left the airport.. my taxi driver sounded just like my old Scottish dancing friend Bill McKay, who was from Glasgow, and who I hadn't thought of in years. There was a Chivas Regal factory just outside the exit, and Loch Lomond (according to my taxi driver) lies just over the distant hills. My B&B was on a small branch of the River Clyde... which made me start thinking, especially on seeing a sign for the Clydesdale bank - at that point I suddenly realized where the name of the horses came from (duh).
I went into the city for the morning, before meeting the University folks for lunch. My first stop was the Willow Tea Rooms... Originally designed by CR Mackintosh for his patron, it has been restored to accommodate tourists although Friday morning it was quiet and populated by a few older people who looked local. My quiet breakfast ended with a fire alarm before I had barely begun to eat. Rather than wait to get back into the restaurant (given that I had so little time to explore) I headed up Garnet Hill (it’s not just a catalogue) to the Glasgow School of Art, a famous Mackintosh building. Unfortunately the construction in front of it rather ruined the outside view but I wandered around inside the imposing wood-framed and sky-lighted upper floors for a bit.
As I headed back down the hill I was passed by a passel of school children led by a teacher in a kilt... and kilts were certainly the theme of many shops (to buy or rent) - even the street musician in town was a kilt-clad bagpiper. The impressive Victorian buildings in the city are dark red sandstone but they sit amid a pastiche of architectural styles... I ended up at The Lighthouse, another Mackintosh building now converted into a city museum, including its tower views (not as impressive as they might have been given the dull gray skies of the day). By which time it was time to head to the University to start the working part of my day!
The University of Glasgow was founded in 1451... it moved to the top of the hill in the 19th century, where it now sits in neogothic splendor, overlooking the enormous red sandstone Victorain Kelvingrove museum. With its long history, the University clearly has a deep reservoir of stories, some of which are displayed in plaques on the buildings. Including the circular blue plaques that appear all over the UK as historic markers... I was particularly thrilled to see the former residence of Lord Kelvin (to whom I referred in my seminar at Glasgow, before I knew that he had a connection with the University). And then there was the rather tantalizing plaque not for a place of residence but for the site of a dinner party... one in which the concept of isotopes was first mentioned by Frederick Soddy, who worked with Rutherford on problems of radioactivity. A side story - it appears that the word ‘isotope’ was suggested by another guest at that dinner party, a woman named Margaret Todd, who was studying Greek (the word means “same place”). As we have Todds in our family, I’ll claim her as a relative! Frederick Soddy went on to win a Nobel Prize in 1921 and then moved into economics (I guess the link between physicists and economists has a long tradition).
After my seminar, a group from department headed off (in good geologist tradition) to the Curlers Rest pub (curling was invented in medieval Scotland). Originally the curling stones were flat-bottomed river cobbles, which meant that the game involved a fair amount of chance. Later the stones used were weights from weavers' looms that were fit with detachable handles. Traditionally the curling stones were made from two specific types of Scottish granite... the most popular is the Blue Hone, Ailsa Craig granite, from an island off the coast of Scotland... the granite has a very low porosity (which limits damage by freeze-thaw action). After a little conversation about curling, I learned various other bits and pieces about Scotland. Including the fact that Scottish banks all print their own pound notes - that is, the notes from each bank look different (and, although they state that they are legal tender for British pounds, are rarely accepted in England). Or the fact that the Scots have a tradition of using family names as first names, which explains some of the naming conventions of my ancestors (although I have always thought that McDowell Reid Venable was a rather distinguished name, and not nearly as strange as Campbell Campbell, the name of the uncle of one of the students at the pub!). We then moved on to the Bothy restaurant (a bothy is a simple shelter that was left open for those in need). All of the waiters/waitresses were in kilts and the menu was a blend of traditional and fusion Scottish. For example, as an appetizer I decided that I couldn’t resist haggis pakora with Tandori yogurt! (for those of you not familiar with Scottish cuisine, haggis is a sort of porridge-based sausage dish). I followed that with Scottish salmon for dinner and Oban whiskey for dessert!
March 10 - Rock of Ages and Cheddar Gorge
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
So starts the hymn... whoever would have thought the rock really exists? The hymn was written by the Reverend Augustus Montague Toplady (no kidding) who, the story goes, was inspired to write the hymn after being caught in a storm while traveling through the gorge of Burrington Coombe, in the Mendip hills just south of Bristol. And I have the photo to prove it! So started a Saturday afternoon tour with Steve Sparks and Carol Finn (USGS), who was visiting for a few days. Steve then took us to Cheddar Gorge... I hate to disappoint you but despite the wonderful mental image conjured up by the name, it is not a lovely orange color but instead is a limestone gorge, also in the Mendips. It is famous for the Cheddar caves (in which Britain’s oldest skeleton - at 9000 yrs - has been found) ... the caves are also a big tourist attraction. Not quite sure how the cheese become so popular (and altered) - the cheese produced locally now carries the official designation “West Country Farmhouse Cheddar” - I’ve had this, and it’s nothing like even Vermont cheddar, let alone the dyed orange supermarket variety!
We then drove on to Wells, the smallest city in England. Now this clearly depends on your definition of a city, which, in this case, requires a cathedral (and the Bishop who comes with it). Wells cathedral is actually the seat of the Bishop of Bath and Wells (Bath has only an abbey). Wells has long been an important settlement - there is evidence of Roman mausoleum on the site. The first church was built here in 705 by King Ine of Wessex. The first Bishop of Wells was Athelm (c. 909) who crowned King Athelstan (first king of a unified England). The cathedral was then constructed between 1175 and 1490. Much of structure is ‘early English’ in style, particularly notable for the statues around the outside of the building. It is also famous architecturally for the interior ‘scissor arches’ that were a late addition inserted to stabilize the piers (which were apparently damaged by an earthquake in the 14th century!). Steve hurried us inside the cathedral so that we were there by 4 to watch the famous clock run through its paces. The clock is an astronomical clock from the 14th century - one particular attraction is that it has both an inside and an outside manifestation, both of which are driven by the same mechanism and have parts that move on the hour.
After wandering around the cathedral and the Bishop’s palace (he still lives there), we made a late afternoon visit to the pub and then went on to an early meal before an exquisitely lovely choral concert of 16th Spanish church music in the quire of the cathedral. I had never heard the term ‘quire’ but it seems clear that it is the origin of the word choir. After the concert we headed back to Steve’s for tea and then Scotch - Oban again... Steve’s brother lives near Oban.
March 14-16 Paris and Orleans, France
The next trip was to Orleans, France for a workshop on Mt. Erebus volcano in Antarctica (my first active volcano). To get there, Alison and I flew from Bristol to Paris and then made our way from Paris to Orleans via metro, foot, and train. It was my first trip to Paris in decades, and my first impression was the shear immensity of Charles deGaulle airport. From the airport, we took the Metro to the station at Ile Saint Louis/ Notre Dame... walked out of the station to the striking sight of Notre Dame lit by the soft afternoon light of spring, rising above the river banks draped with greenery. The weather was warm and everyone was out enjoying the sunshine. We walked along the left bank of the Seine, past the famous lines of little bookshops selling used books and prints, to Gare D’Austerlitz where we caught the train to Orleans, about an hour by train to the SE.
Orleans lies along the Loire - in fact, it’s the farthest inland navigable point on the Loire (hence its historic importance). We made our way from the Orleans train station to our hotel via a cute little merry-go-round (I took a photo in memory of Mom) and the immense cathedral of Orleans, partially scrubbed clean, the rest cloaked in scaffolding and plastic. Like other French cathedrals, the Orleans cathedral is adorned with flying buttresses, an east facing rose window and delicately sand-castle sculpted spires. We then made our way through twisting cobblestone streets - both the buildings and the cobblestones were of a sufficiently light-colored stone that they almost glowed in the setting sunlight. It was apparent that we had changed latitude, as an evening walk along the river at 7:30pm was lit by a western sky still a rainbow of colors from orange to red to purple. The rainbow matched the lights along the river bank path which are oddly antiseptically bluish purple - a contrast with the warm orange-yellow of the lights that line the arched bridge. More lights as we crossed the open square where small round colored lights were set among the cobblestones; even more lights of red and green sparkling reflections from inside a bar. We were reading menus checking out possible eating establishments when I was hailed by Phil Kyle (Dr. Erebus), so we joined the group in a small restaurant with enormous servings. Alison and I opted for cheese salads (yes and that’s what it was but also with lettuce and tomato... I left most of the cheese in the bowl, though the toasts with warm melting chevre were excellent). The NMT group were ahead of us in eating and all ordered creme caramel for dessert... which came soup plate size, much to our advantage as we got the halves that they couldn’t finish! Back through the cobblestone streets as we passed outdoor tables full of smokers despite the chill in the night air. When we returned the impressive church across the square from the Jackhotel was also alight in an eery purplish blue... Orleans, the city of avant garde lights.
