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Published: September 28th 2016
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We came out of the Catholic church where we had been attending Mass and, seeing an internet cafe across the road, decided to check our emails, which we hadn't done for several days. The last time we were here there hadn't been any internet access but the old president had died in the intervening years. His more progressive son had taken over and loosened up the communications networks.
There was a tension in the air and people stared at us as we crossed the street to the cafe but we were used to that and didn't pay much heed. Most people were watching one of those 3
rd grade doomsday movies about the end of the world but, being in Arabic – even though it was subtitled (in Farsi) – we didn't understand any of it. We soon learned, though. It was September 11
th, 2001. The hijacked planes had just flown into the twin towers and we were in Aleppo, Syria.
There was no Travelblog in those days; no way of recording our experiences other than mail and fax and the primitive internet. Fortunately we still have access to some of our emails which we printed at the time and
can recall memories of the experience.
Not surprisingly it was mostly good. Apart from one person, a few weeks later in Cairo, everyone we met was against the attack and the destruction, and unsupportive of the, mainly, Saudi Arabian hijackers. Apart from anything else, it threatened their economies and, as we have learned over time, has destroyed some of the most exciting and historical countries in the Middle East.
We continued our journey through Syria (though we skipped Palmyra which, John says, is one of the few regrets in his life), on to Jordan and Egypt and eventually back to Australia. Everywhere we stayed, there was the fear that the USA would take some dreadful revenge but the local people were warm and friendly and delighted to meet us - we were their income after-all. As we now know, the USA did take their revenge, but I don't think even they realised the total destruction they would precipitate.
Skip forward fifteen years... ...we are living in Stratford-upon-Avon, the home of Shakespeare, one of the great creators of our English language. Many of the words we use today
were made up by him and incorporated in his plays and poetry.
Looking at the news today, little seems to have changed over the last 15 years. There are stories on the news of a young man being arrested in Australia for trying to murder a passing bystander and then a policeman who tried to stop him (fortunately without success). A story from France where three woman attempted to create a bomb from gas cylinders (again without success) and on-going stories from Turkey, Syria, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and other North Africa / Middle Eastern / South Asian countries.
Since we arrived in the UK in April, we have experienced more than we ever have before. After our three months in Sutton Courtenay, we ventured north for a meet-up with many of the extended Wallace family on the island of Arran, off the west coast of southern Scotland. Kaya John's daughter, flew out from Australia for the occasion bringing her two children, Maddy-Rose and Malachai with her. The gathering lasted for a week with lots of partying, eating and walking. We went on an outing on the Waverley – the last seagoing paddle steamer in the world; danced ourselves
silly at two Calleidh; toured the island in our rented car and generally had a really great time.
After Arran, Kaya and her kids went to London for a week and then back to Oz. We headed off for a tour of the Hebridean islands. (We will write a more extensive blog about this trip later.) Our itinerary took in the islands of Skye, Harris and Lewis. The weather was wet and windy for the most part but we managed to do all of the things we had planned. Our one big mistake was in forgetting that we were travelling at the height of the tourist season. We had not booked any accommodation or ferries we expected each day that we might have to sleep in our car or not be able to get a ferry from one island to the next. As it turned out, we needn't have worried as each day something turned up unexpectedly although the 7am ferry from Stornoway to Ullapool was an adventure on its own. Apart from having to be at the port an hour before the ferry left – which meant we had to get up at 4am as we were right
on the other side of the island – the crossing was quite rough and many of the passengers were ill. Sylvia spent much of the trip administering anti-sickness advice. John just read his book.
Back on the mainland of Scotland, we headed South to Inverness and then, via Loch Ness, to the Kyle of Lochalsh to visit Eilean Donan castle, Sylvia's Macrae clan's ancestral home. Highly recommend it as a destination if you are ever in that part of the world. Sadly, Marigold, the head of the clan, wasn't there. (We didn't really expect her to be but “hope springs eternal”. We had previously met her in Australia and had been invited for a cuppa if we were ever there. Maybe next time.)
That night we ended up at Pitlochry, a beautiful little village but totally overpopulated by tourists like us. It is the site of one of the first hydro-electric dams in Scotland and a popular interim destination for people on their way to the Cairngorm Mountains for walking (in Summer) and skiing (in Winter).
On the way South to Edinburgh we visited Stirling Castle to try and track down John's father's army history with the
Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. Unfortunately, all of the records have been sent to Edinburgh so we didn't discover anything. From there we went to Castle Campbell, the lowland seat of the chiefs of Clan Campbell, from the 15th to the 19th century, and then on to Edinburgh to visit John's cousin Willie and his family.
While we were in Edinburgh, the biggest quilt show in the UK took place in Birmingham. We left the car behind and took a high speed train to Birmingham so Sylvia could spend lots of money on “stash” which we then posted to Australia for astronomical amounts of money before returning to Edinburgh to resume our trip.
We still had six weeks before our ship back to Australia left, so, with the assistance of Margaret, Willie's beautiful wife, we found a small bed-sit just outside Stratford-upon-Avon where we could bed-down until we were ready to leave.
So that's a summary of our trip so far. We have had a wonderful time but are looking forward to coming home. Six months away is a long time and we are missing our own bed and our house. Our cruise home leaves on 28th September
from Southampton. Can't wait!
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Dancing Dave
David Hooper
What was...what could have been
One of your best blogs may I say. Fifteen years ago where you were on 9/11. Who could have guessed fifteen years later Aleppo would be another holocaust. Yet to the present the clans gather and Scotland welcomes you to your heritage home...must have been wonderful. Sounds as if your trip has been more than rewarding...and while you can reflect on happy memories John...Sylvia can reflect on her splurge on quilting supplies!