When living in a country where dark is so prevalent in the winter, one must be willing to accept and even embrace the night sky and the often stunning light that comes after sunset.
In St Andrews, the streets and buildings are illuminated not just by street lights but by displays specifically designed to accentuate the stunning nature of the architecture. In fact, in most towns and cities now there is always light after dark, ensuring that visitors – and photographers – can continue to enjoy the sights and get from A to B.
In recent years I have become increasingly fascinated by the moon and stars. For more than a year now I have been trying to really capture especially the stars, a feat much tricker than it may appear, and one that has left me with hundreds of shots of a mostly black sky. But I am learning with each attempt, and each night I stand in the cold and try to get it right.
Night can be a fascinating time to capture your favourite daytime spots – I hope you enjoy some of my efforts to do so!
Boston, Massachusetts, USA 🇺🇸
There is a lot to love about Boston at night, though I particularly love the winter lights. When I was young we used to drive into the city every December to see the Nutcracker ballet, and I recall with utter clarity the wonder of driving past the Common to see the trees festooned with lights and every lamppost adorned with a Christmas decorations. The ‘Christmas’ nature has widened to encompass all holidays, and the lights are still stunning.
City view from Christopher Columbus Waterfront Park.
Carcassonne, France 🇫🇷
I consider myself so lucky to have been able to visit Carcassonne and to have found a hotel in the newer part of the city with a spectacular view of the medieval town. At night, it was almost more magical than during the day.
Edinburgh, Scotland 🏴
As anyone who has routinely read my blog is aware, Edinburgh is one of my favourite cities, second only to Boston. It is almost absurdly picturesque, both old town and new, and boasts some incredible Christmas decorations, particularly around the German Christmas market.
Panorama of Princes Street from the castle
Marblehead, Massachusetts, USA 🇺🇸
Whenever I visit home, I make an effort to walk around the town at least two or three times each trip, and an evening wander home from dinner or a drink with a friend is a great opportunity to capture the town at night. I am also inevitably either welcomed back or given a send-off by the Logan Airport flight path, which passes almost directly over Marblehead, allowing for some great sky shots – who needs a drone when you have Aer Lingus?
Little Harbor
Marblehead from an Aer Lingus flight
State Street
Puerto Rico 🇵🇷
Night in the Caribbean can be a very different place than anywhere else; it is seldom quiet, and I find very seldom as dark as anywhere else. Perhaps because there are often many people about, perhaps due to reflection of the moon and stars off of the water, or perhaps something to do with the warmth.
Ponce, Puerto Rico
Fajardo, Puerto Rico
St Andrews, Fife, Scotland 🏴
I have spent a great deal of time in St Andrews, after dark as well as before, and so I have hundreds of pictures of the town at night. These are just a few of my favourites.
The Moon at night 🌚
I defy anyone to take a walk at night during the full moon and not stop, just once, to wonder at it. I have become so obsessed with capturing the full moon that I even have it marked in my calendar. At this time of the year, near the equinox, the moon is often in the sky during the day and offers a perfect opportunity to capture it; but that is not the point of this post. Mankind has been fascinated with the moon for generations, even more so since we actually went there…I personally am continually surprised by how clear it can look even just to the naked eye.
And the stars… 🌌
Taking clear, atmospheric photos of the stars requires a spot with as little light pollution as possible, a tripod, plenty of time to try different settings, and some knowledge about how to edit the products of your time. I’m getting there, though I’ve got a way to go to equal some of the spectacular professional shots one sees online.
This one was taken on my phone with a night setting, so feels a bit like cheating.
If you open this one up, you should just be able to make our the Orion.
The night sky in Skye – so little light pollution up north!
Finally, I’ll wrap up with a sequence of pictures I took one evening as the moon rose; I’ve mashed them all together, and I hope they provide even a touch of the awesome nature of the full moon.
Several years back, for reasons I cannot really recall, we decided to deviate from our traditional Lochaber-based holidays and try out the eastern side of the Highlands around Aviemore. Due to its popularity in winter sport season, there are plenty of places to stay and eat, and it is a slightly shorter drive.
On our first day we took an epic long walk around Loch Morlich in the rain, and so on the next day we opted for a slightly more gentle trek, starting at Loch an Eilein and heading almost due east towards the Cairngorm Club footbridge, about 4 miles round trip. There is quite generously-sized car park at Loch an Eilein which in and of itself has some lovely views, including a typical highland-style stone croft.
The paths in this area are very well-marked, and we started off along an access road, skirting the edge of the loch. At first, the route was surrounded by beautiful tall pines that allowed tempting glimpses of the water, as well as this stunning Bob Ross-style view of a small forest cottage.
Before long, the path we wished to follow turned east away from the loch. We passed several burns and even crossed one before moving out of the trees and into a flat, more open area with brush on all sides. Much of the open area was quite boggy but the path itself was dry and, for the most part, flat and easy to follow (excepting of course the shallow ford below, which required a bit of careful manoeuvring.)
I quickly fell in love with this particular trail, which offered views of the mountains in the distance, but also stunning single or small groups of trees that stood out against the open space. There were lochans dotted amongst stands of trees, shining in the sunlight, and it felt like something out of Lord of the Rings or some other fantasy.
The walk was dampened only by the fact that we were both a bit stiff and sore from our intense hike the previous day, and I found myself easily exhausted (not in part due to a bout of food poisoning the night before). I am nothing if not stubborn, however, and so we continued on towards Am Beanaidh, the river that was our goal. We did have a few moments of worry that we had taken the wrong path – we had a good map, but as is not uncommon in the highlands there were routes not on the map that led close to where we wanted to go – but in time we re-entered the forest and began to hear the sounds of the river.
Our goal and our lunch spot for the day was the iron footbridge which spans the river and was constructed by the Cairngorm Club in 1912. It boasts several sturdy plaques memorialising the building of the bridge, and a good viewpoint to look up or down the river. It was the perfect stop to fuel up and take a few selfies to prove we had managed a hike that day.
Considering the dreadful weather we had the day before, we were so lucky to have mostly blue skies and a comfortable temperature, perfect for walking. This trail is flat for the most part, as well, with a few rises and falls but no strenuous climbs. It was absolutely the right choice for a morning walk before driving home in the afternoon, and it could be both shortened or lengthened quite easily by adding in an extra loop or simply crossing the bridge and/or following the path along the river.
On our return, we took the time to follow one of the several side-trails down to the loch side, and I was lucky enough to take the below shot of sunlight glistening off the water. It remains one of my favourite shots, not in part because it reminds me so much of where we used to spend summers when I was young. The Aviemore area was not as evocative for me as the mountains further west, but there is no question that there are some beautiful trails and lochs.
This post has been very long in coming, due in part to a month of February that both sped by and was quite challenging. I was also very keen to include some history of this magnificent spot, and so even more research than normal was required.
Several years back, I was fortunate enough to be invited to speak at the Mortimer Historical Society autumn conference. A work colleague knew one of the conference organisers, who along with being passionate about the Mortimers was a knowledgable and kind host. My train ticket and accommodation were taken care of, and one afternoon before the conference I was able to visit the stunning castle. Ludlow is the type of castle I adore – ruined but only partially, with a solid feel for what it would have looked like in its heyday. I could happily have spent hours exploring the towers and keep, as well as the unique round chapel.
Ludlow – the town
Dating back to 1086, Ludlow was a planned town, built around the castle. Situated on the Welsh marches – border lands – the fortress was constructed to help subdue the local Anglo-Saxons and of course keep an eye on neighbouring Wales. For this reason, town walls were constructed in the 1230s, several stretches of which are well-preserved.
The plan of the town is evident. Before the castle is a large market square, and the streets lead away in what feels like a very un-medieval planned grid of sorts. There are reams of beautiful buildings from different styles and time periods, and I spent a good few hours wandering the streets and discovering unusual paths and construction. But the castle, of course, was the pièce de résistance.
Ludlow – the castle
Ludlow is one of those epic castles that has played a part in many points throughout history. The first phase of construction was begun by Walter de Lacy, one of many Normans who came to England with the conquest of 1066. Throughout the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries, the subsequent rulers of the castle were frequently at odds with the king, but that did not mean there was no time for construction.
The unusual round chapel of St Mary Magdalene was build in the early 12th century, likely modelled after the round churches of the Knights Templar, an order which the castle’s owner Gilbert de Lacy later joined.
Chapel of St Mary Magdalene
The Great Tower that dominates the outer bailey likely dates from the 1130s.
In the 13th century, the solar block was added, creating more comfortable living space for the family and enabling the lords to more adequately welcome guests. In 1223, Ludlow was the site of unsuccessful peace talks between King Henry III and his brother-in-law, the Welsh Prince Llywelyn ab Iowerth.
These buildings are more clearly viewed when you climb up the Great Tower, and look over the castle interior. Like in many ruined castles where the floors are long gone, you can look up the walls to see doorways, corbels to support the floors, fire places, and of course windows.
In the 1260s, the hapless Henry III lost most of his power during the Second Barons’ War, and his son Prince Edward was held captive for some time by the de Montfort cause. Upon his escape, Edward used Ludlow as a rallying point for supporters with whom he launched his campaign to re-take the throne. For Edward, Ludlow was considerably better luck than it was for his father – the Battle of Evesham was a resounding victory that created Edward de facto king, though his father would survive for some years more.
The Mortimers who inspired the creation of the society for whom I presented a paper gained control of the castle in 1301, when Roger de Mortimer married the heiress, Joan. Roger’s tenure included the addition of the Great Chamber block, another concerted effort to turn a defensive castle into a residential one.
Not the chamber block, but another view of the wall.
Mortimer was notorious in history for a much more prominent reason, however, in that in the 1320s he would be exiled to France, where he made an alliance with Queen Isabella, estranged wife of King Edward II. Together they returned to England in 1327 and seized power, imprisoning Edward II. Mortimer was named Earl of March, and Ludlow gradually became the Mortimer family’s most important property. Though Roger was eventually hanged, the castle stayed in Mortimer hands.
View from the castle walls across the countryside.
In the 1400s, the castle was inherited by Richard, Duke of York, a primary combatant in the Wars of the Roses and father to kings Edward IV and Richard III. He installed his family in the castle in the 1450s, and when Edward IV eventually gained the throne in 1461, he added Ludlow to the royal holdings. Edward evidently held great affection for the castle, visiting regularly and establishing his heirs – the Princes in the Tower – there in the 1470s. The boys would live there more or less until their father’s death and their fateful journey to London in 1483. (Side note, I will not discuss here my thoughts on Richard III’s capability in the deaths of the princes, though I may at another point.)
During the English Civil War and Interregnum in the 17th century, the castle fell into decline, and at one point there was even a suggestion that it should be totally dismantled. Fortunately it was leased from the crown by the Earl of Powis, whose family eventually bought the castle in the 1880s and maintain it to this day. The Trustees of the Powis Castle Estate manage it as a tourist attraction, allowing more than 100,000 visitors annually to explore the historic walls.
I count myself lucky to have been one of them! Ludlow is definitely one of those castles that appeals to castle nerds like me; you can see the evolution of the building style, from defensive structures like the Great Tower to more decorative buildings inside. And in a perk I always enjoy, you can still climb high enough on the walls and in the tower to see out across the grounds and the surrounding countryside. Not only is the view lovely, but it further supports the building of a castle in that spot; the hills and river made this an ideal location for a proper medieval fortress.
My love of writing and my love of medieval history can both be traced back to one particular book, which I received for Christmas when I was 11 or 12 years old. It was a time in my life when I received many books as gifts – no complaints mind you – and I had packed it along with several others in my carry-on during my annual January plane trip to see my father. I cannot say for certain how long it took me to devour the book, but I was enthralled from the first moment. It was the perfect mix of adventure, romance, and meandering tale, all based on the experiences of a fourteen-year-old girl.
The book was of course, On Fortune’s Wheel, the second in Cynthia Voigt’s loosely connected Kingdoms quadrilogy. I loved that she created her own kingdom to write about, thereby dictating her own rules as to law, tradition, and history, but she did not make them fantastical. In fact, much as George R.R. Martin did in his series, Voigt used ‘real’ history as inspiration, but edited or simplified as she wished – the Wolfers, for example, and the alpine lands of the north versus more temperate cities of the south are all vaguely familiar.
One of my first writing exercises was a re-imagining of the story in a way I liked slightly better and in my own words – a homage that hinted at pure plagiarism – and my fascination with the medieval lifestyle has never gone away, even through years of study and advanced understanding. My best friend in high school had read the books too, and we constantly argued over which was the best, which male character we fancied, and which was superior. Only once the final book was released were we eventually able to agree that the hero in that book was, in fact, the best of all.
As I delve deeper into my love of all things medieval through this blog, it seemed appropriate therefore to revisit these books, and I have to admit as an adult to liking them perhaps even more than I did when I was younger. I will review them here in chronological order, though this does not relate to my preference.
I have been fascinated, as I read, to recall firstly how beautiful her writing is – stunningly crafted prose, with an easy way of making words specific to the story quickly understood. I was also impressed by her brutality, in places – by her unflinching description of how difficult and violent life could be. There is no shying away from the topics of cruel death, starvation, physical and mental abuse, or sexual abuse and exploitation. Much as they likely were considered in the Middle Ages, these topics are just part of the story, not glorified or simplified, just present. It is a brave writing style for young adult books, without the more obvious ‘wrongness’ that one sees in newer series like the Hunger Games. Most purveyors of the worst behaviour, though, do tend to get their comeuppance…though not all.
1. Jackaroo
Not originally top of my list, I found in re-reading this series that I enjoyed Jackaroo considerably more than I remembered. The story revolves around the experiences of a young woman, Gwyn, who like so many girls at the age of sixteen feels uncertain and out of place in her life. Gywn is the daughter of an Innkeeper, independently-minded and in regular conflict with her mother. She has no intention of marrying, an hopes instead to run her father’s Inn. As the tale continues we meet her close companion, Burl, and see her explore the legend of the Jackaroo, a Robin Hood-type character who helps the local people who are starving or struggling. Then during a storm, she is isolated in a cabin with a noble’s young son, and their friendship is the basis for much of the freedom she later experiences – as well as the final nail in any coffin of her hopes of living a normal life in the Inn.
Voigt is a master at character and relationship-building, making us both sympathise with Gwyn and wish, for a moment, that she could have the ‘normal’ life her family hopes for her. Instead, it is very quickly obvious that she is meant for more and greater things, and the message of the book is clearly to trust your own instincts. It may not always be an easy path, but it will be the right one. This theme most definitely runs throughout the series.
As for the medieval aspects, it is clearly a difficult world of social inequality, where peasants struggle to eke out a life and lords live in castles far away. Rather that focus on the lords, this story revolves around the farmers and Innkeepers, imagining the trials and tribulations of the lower classes.
My rating:
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 4.5 out of 5.
2. On Fortune’s Wheel
This was the first book in the series that I read, and it enthralled me from the start. Birle, the main character, is from the start so clearly acting as many teens do – she is fourteen at the outset – in setting out on a course that may not prove wise, but which she thinks is the best one at the time. She ends up following Orien, a young runaway lord, into the depths of hunger, slavery, and cruelty, but through her own worth, she is able to survive when many others would not. Younger and arguably more impulsive than Gwyn, Birle also loses control of her fortune considerably faster, but her loyalty and kindness to those around her bring her to happiness in the end. This book is, arguably, the happiest of the lot, and focuses more closely on the love story within.
In this book, Voigt ventures away from the relative safety of the Kingdom and into the cities of the south, where society is crueller and more violent. There are walled cities, mines worked by slaves, pirates, and cruel autocrats more reminiscent of a sea-based Mediterranean society. There is also more depth put into the rules of the lords and the primogeniture that named the wrong brother earl and gave him no choice but to flee, and to the sexist view of high-class women as little more than ornaments. As in Jackaroo, there is the implication of corruption in the upper classes, while the working lower classes are, if not always good people, often more pure.
My rating:
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 5 out of 5.
3. The Wings of a Falcon
This book is the one that caused endless arguments between me and my friend. It is the only one of the series in which the main character(s) are male, and in which we follow a male protagonist through a never-ending series of cruelties and trials. For some reason, my friend found the main character – who remains nameless for the first third or so of the book – irresistible, whereas I was more drawn to the hero of On Fortune’s Wheel, or to the main character’s best friend, Griff.
The story starts with a mood reminiscent of Dickens, on an island of orphan boys, ruled by the cruel hand of their overseer, captor and surrogate father. The mental and physical abuse described is powerful and horrifying, and it is a relief when the story moves away. Griff and Oriel – as he soon names himself – maintain an impressively close bond throughout a series of misadventures, though by about half-way through the book the story begins to drag a bit and I do wonder why Griff is so loyal. By the last third of the book, it becomes quite hard to like Oriel, who comes across as selfish and unemotional, while I much preferred the loyal Griff. Much of the tale depends upon Oriel being charismatic, charming, likeable, handsome, and yet I found that hard to see and instead wondered why so many were drawn to him.
Despite my dislike of Oriel’s character, I fully admit that the book is beautifully written, and Voigt ventures out a bit into new territory with the Wolfers and the very real fear they bring to the towns and cities who hear only whispers of their cruel feats. Echoes of Viking raids are clear, and it is fascinating to hear descriptions of the towns and countryside and how they dealt with the threat.
My rating:
⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 3 out of 5.
4. Elske
The final book of the series was published five years after The Wings of a Falcon, and by the time it was released in the US I was already living in Scotland, so struggled to get ahold of it for some time. As a result, I have not read it as many times and it does not have the same place in my memory as the others. However, upon re-reading it recently, I was struck again by just how beautiful and visually evocative Voigt’s writing is. The first few chapters are very dark and quite brutal, with sexual assault a relatively casual topic, and violence described in depth through the cruel practices of the Wolfers. However, that cruelty is arguably a vital piece of the main character’s development – her escape from a brutal life is part of why she, like the female protagonists before her, is always just a touch out of place. She does not fit in, she is not ‘normal’, but this is, in the end, to her benefit.
Elske is the eponymous main character, a surprisingly clever young woman who, through careful and secret education, has learned to read and write when most other females cannot. This makes her stand out – as it did Birle in On Fortune’s Wheel – and means that she deviates from the ‘standard’ path for a woman in her world. She is more respected by the men around her, she is more self-reliant and moves to take control of her destiny in a way other women can or do not. Voigt is a master at showing an evolving relationship between two people that start out at odds and slowly come to need one another; in this book, it is Elske’s devotion to a female ruler that mirrors, to some extent, Griff’s devotion to Oriel. Elske is more self-sufficient than Griff, however, and there is a fascinating clash at the end of the book between her love for a male partner and her devotion to her mistress.
One could potentially argue that this book is inching into a more early modern period. The city in which much of the story takes place is clearly Baltic in feel, a play on a city such as Amsterdam or Ghent in which water is present and separates the city into neighbourhoods. Also fascinating is Voigt’s introduction of the mystery of the black powder, how it is described by those who only see its effects, and the mad rush by those in power to gain its mastery. It is a very real echo, one imagines, of how stories of gunpowder first came to Europe.
My rating:
⭐⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 4 out of 5.
So, is there anything not to like about this series? Of course – there are some tropes that the author enjoys using repeatedly, and some of the cruelty I have mentioned above is jarring. The first few chapters of Elske, in particular, are brutal in their casual addressing of the violence perpetrated on really all females of the Volker people. But while she follows similar character patterns – loyal, quiet, stalwart male companions, mothers or mothering characters that do not understand, stalwart and reliable fathers, flighty females that are the antithesis of the main characters – they are all done differently enough to maintain separate characters. Voigt’s female protagonists, while not identical by any stretch, all have a similar quiet confidence. They are resilient, independent, and often quick-thinking in rough situations, using their instincts to save themselves. All four female protagonists – I’m including Beryl from The Wings of a Falcon here – are learned and able to read, and their positions on the edge of society usually enhance their value. What makes them different, makes them valuable. What a fantastic message for teen girls desperately hoping to fit in and so many unable to do so – what makes you different, makes you valuable, makes you worthy of an epic tale.
Throughout the many depressing months of lockdown, a morning or evening walk was often the time to which I clung to relax and refresh my mind. Few things helped more than stopping before a beautiful yellow-orange-red sky, catching a glimpse of some distant pink, or watching the sky fade into purples and dark blue. I have always loved getting up early to catch the start of the day.
The thing about sunrises and sunsets is that you can never really be sure when you’re going to get a good one. Some mornings or evenings you’ll be out there with your camera ready and the colours just won’t appear, and everything fizzles away. Then other days you’re walking or driving home from work or on the bus and suddenly colour appears in the sky that is just so spectacular it should have its own symphony. To a great extent it’s all about being lucky, being in the right place at the right time and then of course being ready to capture the colours if you can. Though there is also, of course, an element of persistence, going out whenever you can, and even trying to read the clouds. I by no means claim to be an expert at this. Some days the colour is earlier than you think, or later, or even in a part of the sky you did not expect. You can never predict it perfectly.
But once you do, and you get the pictures you want, it is always worth taking a few moments to just enjoy the peace, and the drama.
Fajardo and Vieques, Puerto Rico 🇵🇷
Caribbean sunsets and sunrises tend to be surprising – they are either spectacular and dramatic or sometimes a touch underwhelming. Dawn and dusk come with less speed than in other parts of the world, moving slow in the heat that never really fades even at night. I have been lucky enough to experience quite a few of both over the years, and I have developed a bit of a fascination with pictures of sunlight through palm leaves.
Glencoe, Scotland 🏴
My favourite place in the Highlands, Fort William, is not overly well-situated for sunsets, as mountains block the sun well before it hits the horizon. A bit further south in Glencoe, however, Loch Leven runs almost due west and allowed for these stunning pictures one April evening.
Guardbridge, Fife, Scotland 🏴
In 2021 as lockdown really took hold, I made it a point to go out for a walk every weekday morning before work, even in the rain and snow. My route included a breathtaking vista across the Eden Estuary towards St Andrews, where the church towers and cathedral ruins punctuate the skyline. Often flocks of birds and even local deer made cameos in these pictures, as well,
Marblehead, Massachusetts, USA 🇺🇸
Marblehead is a perfect spot for colour at both ends of the day, with sun rising over the Neck or mouth of the harbour, and setting over the causeway and old town. In recent years, jet lag has allowed me to capture some gorgeous sunrises particularly in winter.
St Andrews, Fife, Scotland 🏴
Top of the list of beautiful settings with castle and cathedral ruins, University buildings, wide beaches and dramatic coastline that sheds in layers into the sea, is St Andrews. I have no shortage of pictures of sunrise and sunset; here are a few of the best.
Tayport, Fife, Scotland 🏴
We did not live in Tayport for very long, and a good portion of the time we were in Covid lockdown, but we were fortunate enough to have a fantastic view from our kitchen. I was known on more than one occasion to throw a coat or sweatshirt on over my pyjamas to rush down to the harbour, to get these pictures across the Firth of Tay.
And a few more…
This sunrise lives in my mind as one of the last before lockdown started…taken from the Tay Rail Bridge in March 2020 as a colleague and I travelled to Edinburgh. Sunrise from the train to Edinburgh – I always sit on the left side of the train to enjoy the views across the Firth of Forth, particularly in the morning.Glenrothes sunset.
Sunset on the Isle of Skye.Sunset over the Charles River, Boston.Sunset on the Lomond Hills.
Finally, I’ll wrap up with one of my favourite views at one of my favourite times of day and year – icy sunrise over St Andrews.
The Falls of Dochart is one of the most beautiful places in Scotland, and it is almost certainly one of the most photographed as well. This is not just due to its stunning nature, but to the its relative ease of access – it is only 2 hours from Edinburgh and 1.5 from Glasgow, simple to reach from the A85 that crosses Scotland from Oban to Perth.
I had a postcard from Dochart on my wall in high school and it was one of those places I always wanted to visit, but somehow continually missed. Until that is, our trip away in March 2020, before the lockdown began. As previously mentioned we were in Aberfeldy for a long weekend, and after a morning of hiking we decided to head down the loch for a drive.
Starting in Kenmore, the drive is lovely – though narrow in places – passing underneath Ben Lawyers and providing gorgeous views across the far side of the loch, as well as the mountains at the far end. In March, both Ben Lawyers and the far mountains were capped with snow, stunning against the blue sky.
The road stays quite high on the hillside for most of the south-western end of the loch, then winds gradually down into the town of Killin, passing the town golf course on the left. One must traverse the town entirely in order to reach the falls, about two miles. It is possible to park somewhere in the town and walk to the Falls, and at busy times of year this may be advised or required. Killin has a some nice shops and cafes for refreshment, as well as Bridge End Mill, a small gift shop with plenty of Killin memorabilia.
Our visit, in mid-March, was before many crowds descended and so we drove across the narrow bridge – more on this shortly – and found a spot along the road on the river side. There is a decently long lay-by here where it is safe to park, but here as well as on the bridge it is important to be very aware of the road traffic which can be quite fast and quite large – coaches and lorries are regular users.
Once parked, it is time to head back towards the falls proper. Just before, or really more splitting the falls, is a wooded island, and there are some lovely views back up the river.
The bridge that spans the falls was originally built in 1760 but was washed away in a flood and re-built in 1831. Its size is indicative of a time well before cars, as it is so narrow that only one vehicle can traverse it at a time.
Closer to this bridge, it is not uncommon to find groups of people scampering over the rocks, and indeed when the water is low you can spend a good deal of time exploring. Sturdy shoes and confident feet are required.
I was lucky enough to catch the falls without too many people in the way. On the far shore is St Fillian’s Mill, built just after the completion of the bridge. For some time in it operated as the Breadalbane Folklore Centre, though now appears to be closed.
Once you have explored the rocks, you will almost inevitably want to get a picture or two from the bridge, or perhaps wander towards the gift shop. To do so, you must cross. As mentioned above, the bridge is narrow and traffic is regular, so pedestrians need to be sensitive to the traffic patterns. There are a few places where an outcropping allows one or two people to get off the road safely, but in general the bridge should be traversed incredibly carefully, and as quickly as possible.
One sight worth exploring is the island formed by the river, Ennis Bhuidhe, which is the burial place of Clan MacNab. It has never been open during my visits, but may be now that pandemic restrictions are lifted.
If you do not find yourself eager to take your life in your hands crossing the bridge, you can find excellent refreshment at the Falls of Dochart Inn. We stopped in to get a coffee and soda next to a roaring fire and beautiful timbered room that once housed the blacksmith.
In the summer they were selling coffee, cold drinks and the all-important ice cream. What I have not yet had time to do is explore the walks that I know lead from the Inn back into the woods and perhaps along the River Dochart towards where it feeds into Loch Tay. But even if you are not able to walk far, this is certainly a sight worth seeing.
I realise that I quite recently wrote a post just about snow, but perhaps you will forgive me from focussing on the same topic again. On our recent trip back to the US, we were desperately hoping for a good snow storm to make our winter break feel real. New Hampshire usually comes through for us, but instead our first week or so was plagued with weather very similar to what we expect in Scotland – mild (for winter), wet and grey. But, as New Years Eve approached, we started to see predictions for a good storm the following weekend, one that would cover the whole of New England.
Saturday dawned, annoyingly, bright. As the day moved on, rain came in but the temperature stayed too high for any snow. On Saturday night, the streets were empty as people battened down the hatches and prepared for the storm. Even Sunday did not seem particularly positive, then not long after noon, the temperature dropped – rain turned to snow and after an hour or so began to accumulate. I was, to say the least, excited. As the afternoon went on, the storm continued steadily, with wind and huge flakes. By 3pm I could stand it no longer: I borrowed boots from my mother, wrapped up in my Boston winter coat (a black down thing so heavy I would never be able to wear in the UK) and ventured out into the storm. It was, in a word, perfect.
It was still snowing as we went to bed that night, and the following morning was incredibly clear. I got up early and went out to try to catch some of the morning light on the snow. Another perfect walk. I took so many pictures that I have had to turn them all into a movie…I hope you enjoy!
I am picking up my favourite walk through Boston at the corner of Boston Common across from the State House.
If you have chosen to visit the Shaw and 54th Memorial, my advice here is to follow the edge of the Common for a block or so and then cross Beacon Street when you find it convenient. You are spoiled for a view here – to your left is the Common, and to your right the start of the beautiful stately architecture that edges Beacon Hill, still one of the most desirable areas of the city.
If you enjoy looking at older and expensive real estate, by all means choose either Walnut Street or Spruce Street to turn right and head up-hill. I would recommend continuing to Mt Vernon Street where you can get a glimpse of Louisburg Square, one of the most picturesque areas of the city that evokes parts of London. Head down Mt Vernon Street to the left/west, parallel to Beacon Street.
In no time at all, you will again reach Charles Street where you can turn left and follow it back towards the Common. There are some charming shops in this area to explore, if you have time. Also, the original Cheers bar is just a bit further along Beacon Street to the right, though remember that the interior of the bar itself does not look like it did on TV. The replica in Quincy Market closed in 2020.
Crossing Beacon Street, you will find yourself with Boston Common on the left, and Boston Public Garden on your right. The land here was originally mudflat, and filled in to create the Garden – and much of the Back Bay – in the early 1800s. If you have any interest in the evolution of the land mass of Boston from peninsula to modern city, I highly recommend the book Mapping Boston.
Stop 5 – Make Way for Ducklings
Most Boston children, at some point I imagine, have read the famous book by Robert McCloskey, Make Way for Ducklings, a lovely story about two ducks looking for a place to raise their family. (Incidentally, McCloskey also wrote two of my other favourite children’s books, Blueberries for Sal and One Morning in Maine).
This book was the inspiration for one of the most famous statues – or series of statues, more accurately – in Boston, which are at various times of year dressed in Sports gear, Santa hats, and other such things.
As you walk away from the ducklings and towards the bridge – resist the urge here to go around the end of the pond – you will almost inevitably meet well-fed geese, ducks and squirrels.
The path follows the edge of the water, allowing for excellent views across the pond where swans and swan boats busy the water in summer months.
Stop 6 – Swan Boats and Footbridge
In very little time, you will find yourself at the suspension foot-bridge that spans the pond, and from which there are excellent views of the Garden and city beyond.
Cross the footbridge, and turn left to head towards the far corner of the Garden, where Boylston and Arlington Streets meet. Before leaving the park, you may wish to make a visit to the 9/11 Memorial and Garden of Remembrance. Two of the four planes that were hijacked that day left from Boston Logan Airport, and the memorial is a moving spot, listing the names of those lost from Massachusetts and New England.
Stop 7 – Arlington Street subway station
You can exit the Public Garden immediately next to the memorial, or continue to the corner. Either way, you will find yourself roughly in front of Arlington Street Church and with a final choice to make. I generally prefer to walk straight up Boylston Street towards Copley Square, but if you wish to do a bit of shopping you may prefer to detour one block over to Newbury Street. If you’re feeling like you’ve had enough exploration, you can always hop on the Green line at Arlington Station and take it back a few stops to return to Government Centre or Haymarket.
Though not as famous in Boston as Newbury Street, Boylston has plenty of shops and restaurants as well, and it’s only about two more blocks to reach the Trinity Church and Copley Square.
Stop 8 – Copley Square
The walk continues through the square and into the Westin, however before you reach that hotel you will pass several points of interest.
First, the church itself, constructed in the 1870s though the parish had existed for 150 years previous and suffered several fires.
Second (again a bit of a detour) if you continue up Boylston for about half a block, you will find the finish line of the Boston Marathon, painted in blue and yellow across the street. Immediately beyond is the memorial to the victims of the Marathon Bombing in 2013.
Third, the stunning Boston Public Library, which to my surprise was opened in the early 1970s but has the feel of a much older building. Inside are stunning murals and grand staircases, as well as one of the largest collections in the US.
It may seem a touch strange, but trust me when I say that to continue on this route, you enter the Copley Westin and go up the escalator. If you walk straight across and do not enter the hotel, there is a pedestrian bridge across the road into Copley Plaza proper. In the plaza are any number of high-end shopping choices such as Neiman Marcus, Jimmy Choo, Dior and Versace. Needless to say we did not shop here as teens, but there was a cinema at Copley as well, which I have discovered closed in the early 2000s.
If you continue straight through the plaza, you will find signs for the pedestrian bridge to the Prudential Center, for additional shopping and one of my high school friends’ favourite spots, California Pizza Kitchen.
The Pru, as it is sometimes known, is another stop on the Green line, and so you can also do this walk in reverse if you are so inclined. It is worth pointing out, however, that Copley is the last stop on the Green line before it splits into multiple branches, so picking up the subway there can be a bit faster.
And that is it! My favourite walk through the city – not particularly long or challenging, but passes some great spots and brings back plenty of memories. I am sure I will go into more detail about some areas of Boston in the future.
if you are in the city and want to try the route yourself, check out this route map:
Boston is, without doubt, my favourite city (though Edinburgh is a close second). I am incredibly biased of course; the feel of the city is part of the bias, but more poignant are the memories evoked almost everywhere I go.
When I was in high school, the city was our playground (to paraphrase Madonna). Almost every weekend we would hop on the Red line into town to roam Quincy Market, Copley Plaza, Harvard Square or Downtown Crossing. My favourite spot is Faneuil Hall, and in particular the Samuel Adams statue out front, which was our standard meeting place for years. I have spent hours there, as in my teenage years there were no cell phones (gasp!); if you were meeting someone, you just had to wait until they appeared or give up and go home.
The sense of freedom, of knowing I could go anywhere in the city, was one of the things that truly gave me confidence as as teenager. I prided myself on being able to walk from Marriot Long Wharf to the Prudential Centre without looking at a map – and that walk is the one described below, passing some of my favourite spots in the city.
The first photo below, incidentally, was taken from the top of the Custom House – official title Marriott Vacation Club Pulse at Custom House – where we stayed for a recent significant birthday. We got a good deal, and it was a stunning location.
Start of the walk – Long Wharf
The walk starts just outside Marriott Long Wharf, in the park immediately adjacent: Christopher Columbus Waterfront Park. Ignoring the political mess of actually naming a park after Columbus, I would point out that the park is quite lovely and only steps from the Blue line stop at Aquarium.
If you have time, it is worth taking a detour to the end of Long Wharf past the former colonial-era counting house, to enjoy views across Boston Harbour towards the airport.
Below are views of the park at night in the winter, and then in the spring, as well as the view from Long Wharf back towards the Custom House.
From here, it is only a short walk across Atlantic Avenue to Quincy Market – word of advice, in Boston always use the crosswalk! Under the park area you traverse between the wharf and the market is of course the tunnel that was built during the infamous Big Dig, to take I93 from a raised highway to a sunken one. On my first few trips visiting Boston after the completion of the Big Dig in 2007, I found myself routinely discombobulated by the absence of the raised highway that had been there for as long as I could remember.
Stop 1 – Quincy Market and Faneuil Hall
Once across Atlantic Avenue, you will hopefully find yourself immediately before a concrete and metal beam constructed covered walkway, that leads to the market. At Christmas time, there will be a gigantic tree immediately in front of you inside.
While it has become more and more a tourist trap over the years – despite the closure of the famous Cheers bar – Quincy Market is always worth at least a quick stop whenever I visit; I can’t help but love the Boston memorabilia peddled out of carts, and the long corridor of food stalls boasting everything from bagels, sandwiches and seafood to Asian and Mexican cuisine. Special shout-out to the North End Bakery, which has the best chocolate-peanut butter brownie.
I love Quincy Market at Christmas in particular, when everything is done up with lights and pine garlands or wreaths.
If you are hungry, by all means detour through the food hall, but if you’d rather keep your pace up, stay outside the long covered market and continue towards Faneuil Hall, the colonial brick building with golden dome just visible at the far end of the market. Opened in 1742, the hall was also a market (and still is, there are more Boston-themed stalls inside) and the spot of several speeches by figures such as Samuel Adams, the famous patriot. To my amusement, the statue of Samuel Adams that was our frequent meeting point has now been augmented by the opening of the Sam Adams Taproom, immediately beside.
Highly recommended, it has a great brewery feel with huge vats of beer just behind the bar and long tables with benches, and of course offers Sam Adams Brick Red, my favourite beer and only available in Boston.
From here, you can either start up the steps immediately across the street, or if you are in for a more historical tour, turn left and detour up past the Old State House.
Stop 2 -The Old State House or Government Centre
Route 1: The Old State House
History buffs may prefer this route past the Old State House – home of a museum as well as the State Street T station, intersection of the Blue and Orange lines.
Just outside the building is the location of the Boston Massacre in 1770, and this excellent plaque which I noticed throughout the city.
Unfortunately I managed to miss the plaque for the Freedom Trail, another great way to explore the city.
From the State House you can turn immediately left to go along Washington St to Downtown Crossing, but I recommend continuing up Court Street.
Route 2: Government Centre Cross Congress Street and head up the steps with Boston City Hall on your right (unfortunately frequently voted one of the ugliest buildings in the US).
This is also a great spot to see a Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks immediately next to one another – a Boston quirk. You are never far from a Dunkin.
Just outside the coffee shop of your choice is Government Centre, the T stop where the Green and Blue lines intersect, and the third-oldest subway station in Boston. As of January 2024, it is closed for renovation.
Which ever route you chose, your goal is Tremont Street; take a left to head towards Boston Common (roughly south-west).
Half a block along Tremont Street, you will find one of those Boston sights that reminds you the city is several hundred years’ old: a graveyard, nestled between the high-rise buildings. King’s Chapel Burying Ground is not particularly large but is the oldest graveyard in the city, founded 1630, and boasts some beautiful old gravestones. Burials include William Dawes, the second rider to Paul Revere on the infamous night in April 1775; Mary Chilton, a passenger on the Mayflower; and Elizabeth Pain, who may have been an inspiration for the character of Hester Prynne.
Continuing beyond King’s Chapel along Tremont Street, you will pass the famous Omni Parker House, home of the Boston Cream Pie. One night a few years back we did go in and order one – along with a cocktail – and it was as beautiful as on the sign.
Ahead of you, you will start to notice the trees and open area of Boston Common, and the covered entrance to Park Street station, one of the two oldest subway stations in Boston, and the intersection of the Red and Green lines. Before you reach the Common, you will pass Granary Burying Ground, the burial place of numerous patriots of the Revolutionary War including Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Thomas Paine and Crispus Attucks. Frustratingly it has been closed on my last two visits, for maintenance.
Stop 3 – Boston Common at Park Street
Immediately beyond the Park Street Church is Park Street Station and the entrance to Boston Common. I love looking at the Common on a map, as it somehow manages to have 5 (almost) right angled corners, due to curves in Boylston and Tremont Streets. The oldest city park in the US, the Common was used, as the name indicates, at various times for meetings, pasture, executions and military exercises. Now, it is an open park that is beautiful both when the trees are covered in leaves and when they are not, and it boasts several spots of interest including a bandstand, baseball field, and the Frog Pond where visitors can ice skate in the winter. Around the holidays, all the trees are covered in lights.
Really, there two routes are available again at this point. The first is to head immediately across the Common, following the numerous pathways until you reach the far side, where Charles Street separates the Common from the Public Garden.
The second option is to turn right and head up the gentle hill towards the gleaming gold roof of the Massachusetts State House, home of the State Legislature. Anyone who has watched the recent hit TV series The Last of Us may recognise this building.
Immediately across from the State House is the Robert Gould Shaw and 54th Regiment Memorial, commemorating one of the country’s first all-Black regiments during the Civil War (memorialised also in the movie Glory (1989), for better or worse).
I realised as I was writing that at this point I have really bitten off too much to fit into one post, and so if I have caught your interest, I will continue the walk in A walk through Boston – part 2! Coming soon…
Our excursion to Elcho Castle was part of a late summer weekend during which we met a friend – and fellow medievalist – in Perth for lunch and decided to explore this heretofore unknown castle. I had identified it on one of my many castle maps of Scotland, and the Historic Scotland website confirmed it to be a well-preserved example of a late medieval Scottish tower-house. I note that as of writing, the castle is one of the many currently closed while masonry inspections are undertaken.
Only four miles from Perth, Elcho is accessed by narrow back roads that eventually lead to a small car park, the castle, and the nearby listed cottage. It was built by the family of Wemyss of that Ilk, around 1560, and is an interesting example of a comfortable country manor residence that was also defensive. It has both guest rooms and gun ports. As one can see from the view from the castle walls, it was happily situated beside the River Tay, amidst fields for crops and sheep, as well as an orchard. In the distance one can just make out the cliffs of Kinnoull Hill.
The view to the west is towards Perth, just out of sight beyond the rise, and to the east along the river in the direction of Dundee and Fife.
It is just about possible to walk around the outside of the castle, though the river side is well-treed and the view of the walls is obscured somewhat. There is evidence of a formerly walled courtyard and at the edge of the orchard are some well-placed picnic tables.
The true joy for a castle lover, though, comes inside, where the main hall, vaulted pantry and cellars, and numerous floors are all visible. Deep kitchen hearths and ovens can be explored, and there is a combination of restored rooms, but also open space where you can look up the walls to see where additional floors and fireplaces would have been.
And of course, one can climb to the top of the castle walls to see the views above, and examine the turrets and roof that was replaced in the 19th century.
It is quite easy to see, while wandering through these rooms and the nearby land, how this could be a comfortable spot to live. The surrounding fields are plentiful, the river is close by for fish and transport, and while the orchard is clearly young, one can imagine there may also have been one in the 16th century.
Also on the grounds is a well-preserved doocot (Scots for dovecote), surrounded by a small garden. This doocot would have provided valuable food for the castle through the winter months, both from the birds living within and their eggs.
We did not spend a great deal of time at Elcho but it was the perfect castle for an afternoon jaunt; photogenic and well cared-for, it also boasts a small gift shop which, to our delight, sold ice cream. We happily enjoyed our treat, which also kept the other half patient while I scurried around taking pictures of the castle exterior. Though it does not necessarily hold a dramatic place in history, Elcho is an excellent window into the past, demonstrating how comfortable life might be for a lord living in the late 1500s. It is also an excellent castle to explore, and once it has opened again I could see it as a good spot for children, with lots of rooms to get lost in. Furthermore, it is an easy day trip from Perth, Dundee or anywhere in Fife, the perfect spot for a picnic!
The Wandering Medievalist 