Scone Club Site, Tayside

Did I mention in my last posting that the camp has issues with its hot water supply? Yesterday the caretakers put hand written notes on the doors of the bathrooms, apologising for the lack thereof and that this was due to circumstances beyond their control. They hoped matters could be remedied as soon as possible, as do the campers who come here entirely for the luxury of long hot showers. I also enjoy this luxury; however can manage with a bowl of water in our own personal bathroom when circumstances limit us so. 

This morning I was returning from the facilities block and ran into one of the caretakers, who when greeted with a friendly “Good morning”, ignored me entirely. He was bearing sheets of laminated A4 sheets, which I later discovered to be in a more formalised format for the earlier good tidings; he was no doubt concerned that any jolly greeting would be seen as amusement at our cold water suffering. This afternoon on returning from our day’s touring, matters were unchanged, and tomorrow is Sunday when it is even more unlikely any technician is available to wave his magic fix-it wand. Perhaps there will be a riot, or simply a march to demand discounted tariff refunds?      

But we were ignorant of these domestic matters today as we travelled about the region, today a mix of coastal and inland roads. We set off up the minor coast roads of the Firth of Tay between Perth and Dundee, then bypassing the city of Dundee before regaining the coastal road to the north, passing through Broughty Ferry, Monifeith and Carnoustie, noting that the economic drivers in this area seemed to be mainly golf and plastic tunnel housed horticulture. This is all part of the Angus Coastline.

Finally we arrived at Arbroath, our first destination and home to the Abbey of the same name. We found a car park nearby and spent some time enjoying the wealth of history in the wonderful visitor centre and about the Heritage Scotland administered rose pink sandstone ruins.

The abbey was founded in 1178 by King William the Lion for a group of Tironensian Benedictine monks from Kelso Abbey, that visited a week or so ago down in the Borders. William’s remains are buried here at the abbey. 

It was dissolved soon after the Reformation, and the abbey effectively became a quarry, the stone filched for buildings throughout the town.

By 1773 there seemed little left but weeds and long grass amid the piles of rubble. The burgh council had tried to restrict the quarrying from 1702 onwards and applied for money from the exchequer for repairs in 1815. But it was not until the Abbey came into state care in 1924 that the ruins were properly preserved and began to be appreciated as a monument.

But there is a more important story to be learned here, one of Scotland’s national and political evolution. The Abbey is where the 1320 Declaration of Arbroath was drafted, by Abbot Bernard, who doubled as Chancellor of Scotland under King Bruce I, aka Robert the Bruce. This was a declaration of Scottish independence, in the form of a letter in Latin submitted to Pope John XXII, intended to confirm Scotland’s status as an independent sovereign state and defending Scotland’s right to use military action when unjustly attacked. The need for this was in part due to the fact that Bruce had been excommunicated, and the Pope had refused to recognise him as sovereign of the land. 

The document is held up today as being an influence on the US Declaration of Independence and has been placed on UNESCO’s Memory of the World register. Interestingly the memorable wording of the declaration mirrors similar words written by a Greek historian thousands of years ago. No doubt Abbot Bernard was a learned and well-read man, who was not above plagiarising, and why not, when the words are worthy of repeating through the ages. 

The Pope did eventually grant Robert I a favourable answer, but not until the poor man was on his death bed. Even then the wheels of bureaucracy turned slowly.

Then just last century the Abbey was again caught up in controversy. The Stone of Destiny, that seized by Edward I in 1296 from Scone, just next door to our camp ground, was stolen from Westminster Abbey. In the following April, the missing stone was found lying on the site of Arbroath Abbey’s altar. It was duly returned to London, and remained there undisturbed until 1996, when the Stone was formally returned to Edinburgh where it lies under lock and key in the Castle, on the condition it may be borrowed for future coronations.

We thought our visit most worthwhile and would recommend anyone curious about the history of the country, as we are, to pay the entry fee and spend some time absorbing the information and ambience. We were able to dispense with the entry fee, by flashing our membership cards.

From Arbroath, we headed north, across the patchwork of corn crops, some recently reaped and some ready for attention. Just before Forfar, not far south of the A90 we will take when we next move camp, we pulled into a car park at the Balgavies Loch Wildlife Reserve. After lunch we wandered part way along the lakeside path, grazing on wild raspberries and not-quite-ripe plums in an abandoned orchard, despite our full stomachs. Down by the lake edge, the geese showed signs of nervousness, pushing their young toward the water and away from the fruit thieves. 

We carried on, now heading westward, until we arrived at Glamis Castle, the second “treasure” of the three covered by the Treasure Ticket we had purchased yesterday at Blair Castle. Committed to seeing all three of these fine historic houses, it made good economic sense to do so. However if we were to stop at just the two, we would end up worse off than if we had paid separate entry fees. 

At Glamis (pronounced Glarms) we joined a large group of fellow tourists, and were guided through the lovely rooms in a more formal manner than we are used to. Afterwards we were free to find our own way around the gardens, to visit the walled and Italian gardens, the pinetum and the immediate surrounds of the impressive castle, built of the same pink sandstone as the Arbroath Abbey. Our brochure suggested we might find squirrels in the woods, but there were too many tourists for such shy creatures and we were unsuccessful in the sport of squirrel spotting.

Glamis Castle has been home to the Earls of Strathmore and Kinghorne since 1372, although the line has zigzagged through the greater family when direct blood lines have fizzled. This was the childhood home of Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, the Queen Mother. As such it was a familiar holiday spot for Elizabeth II and birthplace of her sister Margaret. Like most of these long standing grand homes, it has had its fair share of disasters, including a fire when the Queen’s mother was a young woman.

We were delighted with our visit, so very glad we had come, even though we had to share the experience with so many others at the same time.

From here we drove home via Kirriemuir which was supposed to be picturesque but was not, across Strathmore, the edge of the wide valley running from northeast to southwest between the Grampian Mountains and the Sidlaws. It is this which is underlain by Old Red Sandstone, that was used in two of the structures we had visited earlier.  The land is fertile and apparently has some of Scotland’s best arable farmland. Our route was marked on the map as being scenic and so it was. 

We turned south for home at Blairgowrie, but not before we spent half an hour wandering down to the River Ericht to view the picturesque scene of the town, bridge and clear waters and take the obligatory photos.