Scotland - Day 4
Duns is an historic Castle built around a 1320 Pele (L-shaped) Tower and given by King Robert the Bruce to the Earl of Moray. Since 1696, it has been owned and occupied by the Hay family and still remains a private home.
Architecturally, the castle is highly unusual in that it is one of the few, and possibly the only, castles in Scotland with a distinct Gothic theme. It is, we were told, the only castle in the country with gargoyles.
The interior is remarkably comfortable and free of drafts considering the sheer amount of space all around you. Every piece of the castle is authentic, except for carpeting. The Hay family has done very little save update the electrical and water systems to preserve the character of the castle. As Mr. Hay stated, "if one doesn't use the castle the walls would crumble". He grew up in the castle and was happy to give us a very interesting oral history of the castle and his family. Many of the paintings hanging on the walls were painted by artists who have work hanging in the Scottish National Gallery.
I spent the morning walking around the castle grounds photographing everything that caught my eye. I don't know the acreage of the Duns estate, but it is substantial. The castle sits in the middle of a vast preserve where sheep, cows, badgers, roe deer, and a multitude of bird species live. Duns Loch is the home of a large population of swans and a friendly flock of ducks. Probably the most distinctive feature one is confronted with on the path around the loch is the Shop-of-Horrors plant blocking the path along the waters edge. This plant had leather-tough spiked leaves that measured 5 or six feet across and stalks that rose an easy ten vertical feet. The body of the plant sprouted from a bizarre reddish yellow spiked somethingorother that looked like a twisted heart. A serious and seriously creepy plant. We stumbled across a couple more of these monstrosities during our travels.
In the late morning T and I met with the religious guy who would be conducting our supposedly secular ceremony, then we took a quick jaunt into town to have lunch and find my dad a good bottle of Scotch. A few hours later I found myself suiting up for an event I had never really thought I would be participating in as the lead character and collected my best man, my dad. He and I spent the next hour posing for Roman, our photographer.
Not long after, I was standing in my funky monkey suit at the head of the drawing room beneath massive windows overlooking the loch awaiting the piped entrance of a tiny woman wearing a great big smile. Tracey looked amazing.. in red.
I was calm and happy and knew I had made the right decision the moment I saw her. I took her hand in mine.
No sooner had the minister spoke a syllable than I was clenching my teeth. This was supposed to be a secular ceremony! Not so. Not so. It was all I could do to keep my thoughts bottled up for the next fifteen minutes. I made it. Barely. Any longer and I would have shoved the bible he was caressing up his wrinkled pious arse.
Thankfully, the ceremony was short.
Ian, our huge piper, piped us out and we walked outside for a long series of photographs.
The final event before being piped into the dining room was a traditional Scottish ceremony presided over by Ian, our huge piper. We were first presented an unexpected and lovely gift by Yvonne, our fabulous wedding consultant, a traditional drinking vessel called a Quaiche and a bottle of scotch whiskey. It is an ornate low bowl with two flat handles extending an inch from opposite sides of the bowl. Ian explained the history of the quaiche and it's meaning in a brogue thick enough I only caught every other word. He asked Tracey to pour him a bowl of whiskey as thanks and downed it without a flinch. He then instructed me to hold the bowl while Tracey poured me a not-so-wee dram. I repeated some gibberish in Gaelic and tipped back the bowl. Smooth.. but, damn strong. We cut the cake with Ian's huge highland knife and.. then I had my chance to pour Tracey a wee dram. The look on her face was precious. Ian was most impressed, and I dare say proud, when she downed the dram. She was drunk by the time we sat down for dinner twenty foot steps later.
T and I snuck out to say thank you to Yvonne, Ramon, and Ian. We presented each with a small token of our appreciation. After I gave Ian his tip he placed a massive palm on my shoulder and said, "lad, you know what this means?" I shook my head. "This means my children will be able to eat tonight." I burst out laughing. It was a small tip in pounds, but heartfelt. I hope it wasn't insulting.. the exchange rate is horrible.
The dinner was held in the castle dining room, one of the most impressive rooms in the castle. Tracey and I sat mid-table under the massive carved wooden mantle of the fireplace. Dinner was served, toasts were made, the kids were running laps around the table, and smiles were abundant. It was a lovely evening.
All in all, our wedding could not have gone any more smoothly. All of our events and plans went off without a hitch. We have our planner, Yvonne of Scottish Wedding Consultants, to thank for her expert preparation.
I fell asleep that night with a weird metal thing choking my finger a happy, married man.
