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Travel Stripe - September 2007

Greyfriars Bobby - An Edinburgh legend

September 27th 2007 14:47
Edinburgh is a city rich with stories. Its ruins speak of lost glory days, its castles of the might of great kings, its solid city buildings of prosperous commerce, its narrow winding streets and rows of terraced houses whisper with the histories of ordinary folk and its monuments tell of heroes great and small.

While Greyfriars Bobby is probably Edinburgh’s smallest hero, he is also one of its most famous. Bobby and his story are known across the globe and have inspired countless other dog stories, books and films, including such classics as Old Yeller and Lassie. Bobby is often the yardstick against which many of the worlds’s smartest and most devoted dogs are measured and “S/he’s another Greyfriars Bobby”, “s/he’d leave Greyfriars Bobby for dead” and “s/he’d give Greyfriars Bobby a run for his money” are often heard phrases in canine appraisal.


I must confess that until I spotted his statue outside the Greyfriars Bobby Bar, I hadn’t known that Bobby was an Edinburgh dog. Furthermore, when I thought about it, I really only vaguely knew his story. It’s a poignant, moral tale and one worth the telling.

John Gray came to Edinburgh from the country, with his wife Jess and his son John sometime in 1850. Unable to find a job in his usual work as a gardener, he became a night watchman for the Edinburgh Police and was assigned to the area around Greyfriars churchyard. As nights on the beat were long and lonely, John took as a companion a little Skye terrier which he named Bobby. Over the years, Bobby and John became known to everyone in the streets around Greyfrairs and in the local Coffee House where they were daily customers.

Sadly, in 1858, John died of TB. He was buried in the churchyard which he had patrolled for the past eight years. Just as he had been John Gray’s constant companion in life, so Bobby continued after his death. Day and night, he lay at his master’s grave-side, moving only at the sound of the 1pm gun, when he would run to the Coffee House for a meal. For weeks the keeper of the graveyard tried in vain to return Bobby to his home. Finally, he realised that the dog would never leave his master, so he built a makeshift shelter beside the grave and this became Bobby’s home.


Bobby’s fame spread throughout Edinburgh and every day at one o’clock a crowd would arrive at the gates of Greyfrairs Churchyard to watch him dash off to the coffee house for his meal.

In 1867 the Edinburgh Council introduced a by-law that required all unlicensed dogs to be put down. Bobby, it seemed, was doomed. But the Edinburgh public immediately rallied to save him. Sir William Chambers, then Lord Provost paid his license and presented Bobby with a collar fitted with a brass disc on which were inscribed the words “Greyfriars Bobby from the Lord Provost, licensed in Edinburgh”.

Bobby kept up his vigil at his master’s grave for fourteen years. He finally passed away on the 4th of January, 1872. Bobby was denied a final resting place next to his master in the consecrated ground of Greyfriars but was buried instead outside its gates within sight of the grave.

The monument to Bobby was the initiative of Angelia Georgia Burnett Coutts of the Ladies Committee of the Edinburgh RSPCA. Its inscription reads “Let his loyalty and devotion be a lesson to us all”

The story of Greyfriars Bobby is not just a story of a loyal and devoted dog; it’s also a story of the generosity of spirit of the people of Edinburgh at the time and the value they placed on loyalty and devotion.



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Weekend in Edinburgh

September 26th 2007 14:00
Edinburgh
A glimpse of a castle between the trees


The trouble with these lightning Rugby weekends is that, apart from the game, there really isn’t much time for anything else. This is a shame when the place is one you’ve never visited before and will probably not have the opportunity to visit again. It is a double shame when the place is peopled by kindred spirits and is as historically interesting and as dramatically beautiful as Edinburgh. All that our brief two days there allowed was the World Cup Rugby Match between Scotland and the All Blacks, a fleeting look at a few stunning sites and a couple of evenings with the long lost Kiwi friends who made us so warmly welcome in their home.

Edinburgh
Edinburgh Castle


The Scots, Kiwis often say, are just like us – they’re friendly, they love a drink and they love a party. From my brief meetings with locals at a Saturday evening barbeque and a couple of Sunday bars - I’d say true, true and true. It was easy to feel at home among the Scots I met. They were welcoming, witty and entertaining. I hope I meet them again. Another often-made observation about Scots is that they can all sing. True again! Thirty thousand-odd Scots belting out that wonderful anthem, Flower of Scotland, before the match, made for a sensational sound. Their half time Proclaimers’ sing-along was pretty good too. But best of all, was the ordinary lad, high up in the stands, who burst into Flower of Scotland some time in the second half of the game. His lone voice soared above the crowd, turning heads, creating an awed hush and drawing cheers and applause at the end.

Edinburgh
View across the park to the sea


Our friends live at Portobello, a picturesque bayside suburb with a quiet, villagy feel. It’s not particularly popular with the Edinburghers apparently but is perfect for Kiwis – we are after all a salt-water people, never far from the ocean. We crowd in million dollar mansions along benign stretches of beach and cling, in tumble-down shacks to steep cliffs above sunless, storm-tossed bays. We took a late afternoon walk along Portobello’s beachfront. The sands are wide and flat. They sweep in a gentle curve between headlands, where houses dwindle into farm fields of bright green, brown and yellow and the chimneys of industry, tall as sentinels, stand far out on the ends. The sea is calm, steel grey and freezing. But, still, there were children building castles in the wet sand and paddling in the shallows in the pale spring sunshine. Tall, two and three storey, solid stone houses with large front gardens extend along the promenade at the edge of the bay. A bar called The Place was up for rent. The local cafe, offering “fish teas” was closed. Further along, at the Amusement Centre, two blonde waitresses stared idly out over the sea from the window of their kiosk, while games machines pinged in the background. The day was calm and mild but something about the solid stone houses with their thick walls and paned windows and the banks of sandbags on the sands, suggested savage winters.

Edinburgh
A passage stone passage between buildings


Edinburgh city is small, featured by dark, imposing stone buildings, glimpses of distant, steep hills with jutting rocks, expansive green parks with spreading trees, ancient ruins, spectacular monuments and castles. It is hilly, but walkable. with labyrinths of lanes and passages with worn stone steps.

Edinburgh
An Edinburgh garden


Before Sunday’s match the streets were crowded with kilts and Rugby jerseys. One particularly flamboyant wearer of the tartan and the black turned out to be a Spaniard!

Edinburgh
Kilts, Rugby jerseys and street performers



We took the touristic walk up the Royal Mile from Holyrood Palace at one end, to Edinburgh Castle at the other, missing one extraordinary Edinburgh opportunity after another as we went.


Edinburgh
Looking down the Royal Mile



There wasn’t time to see the weaving exhibition at the Tartan Mill and a run round two of its four floors threw up a dozen or more fabulous knitted and woven wonders that we couldn’t possibly carry in our limited luggage. Over at the road at the Whiskey House, we just missed the tasting tour.


Edinburgh
Edinburgh Castle



We didn’t have time for the tour of Edinburgh Castle and missed the famous Tatoo by a month. We did our best to re-cap at least one lost experience and ducked into a bar half-way down the hill to sample some real Scottish Whiskey. Highland Park was the recommendation of the Texan Barmaid and a very good recommendation it was too.


Edinburgh
A whiskey shop on the Royal Mile



With a wee bit of fire in our bellies we wound off down the hill, passing a statue of Greyfrairs Bobby and a bar of the same name, through the Grassmarket and Fountainhead to Murrayfield.

Edinburgh
Greyfriars Bobby's statue and bar



It was a memorable weekend in Edinburgh. It’s a lovely city, with a great feeling and it was good to see the All Blacks win again. But best of all was the time spent with four long-lost friends in their warm and welcoming home at lovely Portobello by the sea. Te mahana hoki o te manaakitanga. Kia ora koutou katoa! Ka kite mai ano.


Edinburgh
A piper on the Royal Mile

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Mismatch and mishaps at Murrayfield

September 25th 2007 16:53
On Saturday morning, we packed into the alarmingly crowded 9. 30 GNER train at King’s Cross, London, and headed off to Edinburgh. Fortunately for us, a certain Pauline X, who had reserved seats 40 to 50, Carriage M to Newcastle, failed to show, so we seized her places and sat spotting ex-pupils, former team members, erstwhile colleagues as well as scores of what’s-a-names and hokum-flookums amongst the milling black throngs in the aisles. Who, if anybody, is left in NZ at the moment? I wondered. I found myself wondering, too, about the absent Pauline; Why ten seats? What was on in Newcastle this weekend? What went wrong? Why didn’t she make the train? The Mills and Boonist in me assigned the ten seats to a bevy of bridesmaids traveling up to Pauline’s Newcastle wedding (a match engineered by her domineering step-mother, to a filthy rich, unattractive, unscrupulous, global exploiter) which was cancelled at the11th hour when Pauline eloped instead with a handsome, long-lost, Latin lover and incognito Count who appeared, out of the blue, as a waiter at her rehearsal dinner. Meanwhile, my inner Tara-Overton-Naughty-Girl had Pauline’s party arriving ripped to the eyeballs, dressed in leather chaps and bustiers for Percy Bottomley-Biggs’ trannies and trollopes lunch in Newers, then thrown off the train after spraying carriages G through L with champagne in a riotous, staggering search for their seats. Such speculations filled a claustrophobic journey prolonged by inevitable “works on the line”

Speculations fuelled conversations and filled newspapers, too, in the lead up to Sunday’s Scotland/ All Blacks’ World Cup Rugby match. Coach Frank Hadden’s decision to save his best side for the Italian game later in the week was an unpopular one with Scots and Kiwis alike “Depleted Scots face black day” declared a dour headline in the Sunday (morning) Times. “Scotland’s second-string side could be destroyed by New Zealand today ….” the article continued. Meanwhile, on the same page, Sean Fitzpatrick warned that the Scots could “be beaten by eighty points or more …” and “that if New Zealand gets away with having such a weak lineout against Scotland, they might make the mistake of thinking they can do the same against France or South Africa” Quelle horreur!

Edinburgh, Scotland
The walk down to Murrayfield


My fears of freezing Scottish weather proved completely unfounded. Sunday afternoon was mild and warm with a gentle breeze and moments of glorious sunshine. In spite of those forecasts of certain doom for the Scots, spirits seemed high in the crowd that took the legendary walk from Edinburgh town down to Murrayfield, through streets of solid stone houses with bright green lawns and colourful gardens. Shoulder to shoulder in blue and white or black Rugby jerseys and kilts of every tartan, familiar slow Kiwi voices mingled with Scottish accents, strange, fast and unfathomable, against the background skirl of the bagpipes and the muffled beat of a drum. High up in the Stadium, you could see out through the open roof , over a patchwork of houses, steeples, streets and parks and into a blue sky dotted with low, steel-coloured clouds.

In the light of the diminished strength of the Scottish side, the All Blacks heavy-duty, throat-gouging Haka seemed a little like over-kill, but perhaps it was merely a nod of respect to a worthy adversary, which is always, in the words of Jonah Lomu, “up for a battle” Whatever it was, it was greeted with roars of approval, blasts of the bagpipes and a chorus of ochs ayes from the crowd.

Murrayfield Stadium, Scotland
The Haka


Overall, the game lived up to expectations; New Zealand won, Scotland lost. Scotland failed to score, while New Zealand chalked up 40 points and won by its largest ever Murrayfield margin. Yet, as chief Murrayfield Rugby writer Kevin Ferrie asked, (undoubtedly giving voice to the thoughts of thousands) with a full-strength side, against a Scottish second string, with some breathtaking speed of thought and action and with almost twice as much possession as Scotland, why didn’t the All Blacks score twice as many points? Fitzy, too must be asking why they didn’t make his predicted margin of 80. The answer lies in countless silly passes (described by Byron Kelleher as “a bit like school boy Rugby”) in fumbled and dropped balls, in missed kicks and botched tries – in short, in poor finishing. It was a game that had old Kiwi sideline “experts” shaking their heads and spitting words like “ordinary”, “wasted chances”, “lost opportunities” and most damning of all, “lack of ruthlessness” out of the sides of their mouths at the end. In the Scottish camp, bitter dissatisfaction with Hadden’s choice was coupled with generous praise and admiration for the brave wee laddies who once again, in David Leslie’s words, made “the self-sacrifice of the body”. And perhaps the Kiwi critics might also consider that these brave Scotties, doing their battling best, contributed a wee bit to holding the All Blacks score down that day.

The School for the blind, Edinburgh
A game after the game at Murrayfield


But a win is a win we all finally agreed as we raised our whiskies to the victors with a clink, an eye-to-eye and a “here’s lookin’ up your kilt” Moreover, a game is a game as the crowds’ antics with the oval ball on the slow meander back from Murrayfield reminded us. And in conclusion, an impromptu, all-in match on the lawn in front of the School for the Blind settled all debate about how Rugby is really played and who the real winners are.
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Spoilt for choice in Lyon

September 21st 2007 14:12
Rugby aside, there is, as the Lyonnais say “un embarrass du choix” in their fascinating and beautiful city. Whoever you are, Rugbyman, foodie, party animal, nature-lover, shopaholic or film buff you're spoilt for choice in Lyon.

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Lyon restaurants
Lyon Restaurants near Bellecour

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Lyon turns it on for the Rugby World Cup

September 20th 2007 18:02
As one of the ten French host cities of the Rugby World Cup, Lyon is certainly doing the event proud.

Lyon
Stade de Gerland

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A glorious Rugby World Cup win in Lyon

September 18th 2007 11:05
Crowd at Lyon World Cup Rugby match
The pre-match party


Feeling as though I'd slipped into a parallel universe, I sat on a cafe terrasse, overlooking a fountain, in a sunny Lyon square, breakfasting on croissants and cafe au lait before following the crowd iof Rugby fans into the Metro and out to Stade de Gerland for the All Blacks/ Portugal World Cup match


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World Cup Rugby - the final countdown

September 15th 2007 08:20

Paris
The Eiffel Tower Paris


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Rugby World Cup Countdown 3

September 11th 2007 08:53
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Rugby World Cup Countdown 2

September 10th 2007 05:21
Paris Eiffel Tower
The Eiffel Tower


Only three sleeps and three more days of work now until Thursday, Rugby World Cup departure day. As time speeds by, vanishing into the past, the nail-bitingly stressful obstacles begin to resolve themselves but the trivia morphs and mulitplies. As I knock one annoying little problem on the head, two more grow in its place, like Hydra, the legendary multi-headed Greek monster


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Rugby World Cup countdown

September 8th 2007 12:30
Only five more sleeps and four more days of work until I leave for France and the Rugby World Cup. So near but so far away! A mountain of obstacles, from the irritatingly trivial, to the nail-bitingly stressful, loom between now and take-off at 9.20 p.m. on Thursday.

Paris - the Eiffel Tower
The Eiffel Tower

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Unique Malaysian fashions

September 6th 2007 11:23
Malaysian kebaya
Nyonya kebaya


Just as Malaysia’s multi-cultural population is reflected in its art, architecture, cuisine, festivals and customs, so is it reflected in its fashions. Any crowd in Kuala Lumpur is an interesting mix of Sari, Cheong sam, Busana Muslim, western dress, as well as stunning, uniquely Malaysian fashions like the baju batik, the baju kebaya, the baju kurung and the baju kebarung


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Genting Resort and Theme Park

September 3rd 2007 10:06

The Genting Highlands Resort and Theme Park, in Malayasia's Genting Highlands, must be seen to be believed. It is really hard to imagine why anyone would take a masterpiece of nature like the majestic mountain Gunung Ulu Kali and install on its summit such a ghastly monument to man-made tackiness

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Seri Melayu - a rich cultural experience

September 1st 2007 07:47
The Seri Melayu Theatre Restaurant, on Kuala Lumpur’s Jalan Conlay aims ‘to provide a holistic cultural experience enriched by authentic cuisine, décor, music and dance and Malay hospitality ….” (Restaurant brochure)

Architecturally, the Seri Melayu is a showcase of Malay traditions. Made entirely from local timbers, it is styled on the rumah kampong or old Malay house, with elongated windows and wide eaves. The gabled roof, with the traditional Tunjuk Langit at its apex, is inspired by the dwellings of the Perak and Malacca. A tiled Malaccan stairway leads up to a wide verandah with carved rails. Tall wooden doors, thick with intricate carvings, open into the restaurant’s richly paneled lobby. The huge dining hall is designed and decorated in the luxurious style of the Malay Istana or palace. Its walls are paneled in wood and along its centre are four elaborately carved columns, or Tiang Seri . At the ceiling the carvings merge and blossom into giant hibiscus. The central column is another feature of the traditional rumah kampong and in the old Malay home it was of great importance and significance as the mainstay of the house


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