Impressions: The 2006 SRSNH Trip to Scotland
by Mike Vose
Like an overweight, lumbering, and clumsy green linnet
An Aerlingus airbus swooped into Scotland with the SRSNH in it,
To begin an eleven day odyssey of music and touring
That would create wonderful memories both charming and enduring.
McLay's guest house provided the starting point for this Caledonian quest
And, like all trips far from home, the first task was to find food and rest.
With a belly full of chips, weary travelers sought a quiet place to snooze,
To alleviate the fatigue, and liberate the melodic muse.
The pilgrimage criss-crossed Scotland from west coast to east,
With music, and tours, and occasional beverages fathered by yeast.
With old friends and new, there was camaraderie on many levels,
And the group was treated like royalty, and feted with spontaneous revels.
With cornetto, and spoons, hammered dulcimer and recorder,
Ours was a fiddle orchestra not often heard on this side of the border.
But audiences were pleased to hear the unique sound
And their applause and Hoorays showed that their pleasure was unbound.
The coach rides provided a respite from exploration and rehearsal,
But the clever Hugh soon developed a unique scheme for fatigue reversal:
Discreetly resting his chin on the rim of his bodhran, he took mid-concert naps,
Lulled into peaceful slumber by the rhapsody of sound, perhaps?
The SRSNH players heard good music, too, at McTavish's Kitchens in Oban
Where Morris Duncan flayed his fiddle as the devil in the kitchen would have done.
While Dave sampled neeps and tatties with the local variety of haggis,
A piper played, a girl danced, and songs were sung by a local laddie.
Good weather followed the players all round the moors and glens,
Which bloomed like a garden, and attracted many a camera lens.
The natural beauty kept spirits high, but Marsha managed to beguile
Every person she encountered with her contagious and radiant smile.
Scotland harbors many hidden gems, one of which is the Isle of Mull.
Though small and secluded, it has attractions that are not dull.
Reached by a short ferry ride from Oban, the Isle boasts Duart Castle,
The seat of Clan MacClean and the home of its chief and his vassals.
The stalwart castle has sat on a windswept, craggy promontory
Since its construction in 1360, though the English were derogatory
When they ruined the castle when they deserted it in 1750
And the Scots waited until 1912 to restore it, being evermore thrifty.
In Edinburgh town, the group played where Miss Jean Brodie once stalked the halls,
And Yla Stevens led the Lothian Fiddles as if Miss Jean was listening from the walls.
She strode into the orchestra to move a music stand so that a player could see her baton,
Because she demanded attention, for she loves the music, and wants it to be spot on.
Our coach driver Jim Smiley was an efficient and well-connected man.
No matter the travel situation, he always had a well-conceived plan.
He took us to his home town of Tarbolton, an unscheduled transit,
So we could see places that most never view when Scotland they visit.
First, we saw The Bachelor's Club, the debating society founded by Robert Burns,
Where young intellectuals each expressed their exalted opinions in turn.
Then came a rare tour of the Masonic Lodge where Burns had held the gavel,
And a lodge member recited Tam O'Shanter, Burn's poem about a night's drinking that began to unravel.
Duart Castle, Rob Roy Centre, Stirling Castle, Falkirk Wheel, and Edinburgh Castle,
New Lanark town, Tarbolton, the Brig O' Dee, Culzean Castle, the site of many a battle.
These were places that awed us and that gave us a sense of history and place.
Seeing the hills of Lorne and Kintyre will add spark to tunes so named when we next with music them embrace.
Lest you fear that we deserted the home of golf with narry a round played,
Rest assured that one of us heeded the call, and many birdies were made.
Caledonian golf is best enjoyed if you get off the beaten path,
Although the tough links land will eventually show you its mighty wrath.
So our tour ended happily, though we wanted to stay
After all, isn't life grand when it is one big soiree?!
Back on solid granite, we hope our visit allowed us to inherit
Some wee small measure of Scotland's musical spirit.
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