After the long flight and my adventures in London, the plan was for a quiet day on Tuesday and, perhaps, doing something a bit more strenuous today. I needed to stretch my legs so Jean took me up to the grounds of Chatelherault, the hunting lodge of the Dukes of Hamilton. The trees are still bare, with very little new grass and the air was very cold but it was great to stretch out.
We met Sandra later and visited the Low Parks to see the exhibition of the Cameronian Regiment. My grandfather, and Jean and Sandra's father served with this extraordinary regiment. It arose from the Covenanters movement which fought against the appointment of bishops in the Scottish Church and eventually became the only rifle regiment in Scotland. I won't try to explain the significance of that: I don't suppose I really know and you don't need to know. The regiment has now been disbanded.
We had a look around Burnbank where my Donachie grandparents lived and Blantyre where I spent the first seven years of my life. Sadly, almost everything I remember has been changed. My school has been demolished, the street where I lived has disappeared and all the shops I remember are no more.
We did find the house where my grandparents lived, now a little run down but it brought back memories of my last day in Scotland, December, 12th, 1950. Everything was packed and we were dressed ready to catch the train to Liverpool where we would join the ship. There had been snow but my brother, Sandy, and I were still sent outside to play. We enjoyed ourselves sliding up and down the footpath in front of the house. We also had a sled, I remember. Endless to say, when we were called in, we were grubby and our shoes were saturated. Mum had to somehow get them dry before we left.
We also started today with a walk, of nearly two hours! A bit over the top I thought. A last word about the food - dessert last night was clootie dumpling and custard, and tonight's dinner was chicken stuffed with haggis, I kid you not.
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