I had a very nice bank holiday weekend. And in the spirit of what my friend is talking about hereI'm going to tell you about it.
A friend from university was getting married on the Saturday. Naturally, as he and his fiance live in Cambridge, they were marrying in St Andrews, Scotland.
So (unlike some friends of mine who decided to drive up and back in a day!) I saw this as an opportunity for a weekend away.
So early Saturday morning I was up and on the train to Scotland. St Andrews doesn't have its' own railway station, oddly, so I had to get the bus from the nearest one in Leuchars, which wasn't difficult as it was one of those stations that seem to be in the middle of nowhere, with a bus stop right next to it.
It didn't take long to get to St Andrews itself. My main impression of the city was that it was a bit like Cambridge or even York would be if it were on the coast, and if you replaced York racecourse with a golf course. Much as I love York, I think it could be improved by some sea, and a beach or two! Turn a corner in St Andrews, and there's a bit of university or an old church in front of you. The wedding was held in St Salvator's college chapel, and the reception in a building behind it which we were told was where the bride had taken her undergraduate exams (although the bar which pulled out of the wall probably wasn't open then!) Again, beautiful, apart from one or two of the portraits (I assume of former university bigwigs) on the walls.
Much of the following day I spent wandering around the place. I visited the castle, perched on a cliff looking out to sea. I was ashamed of how much I'd forgotten of the history of the Scottish Reformation, which I covered in my degree. The Archbishop of St Andrews was the head of the Scottish church, and the city and university were at the centre of the Protestant storm. After the Archbishop, Cardinal David Beaton had reformer George Wishart burnt at the stake there in 1546 his supporters snuck into the castle and murdered the archbishop, hanging him out of a window. The protestant reformers were then besieged in the castle by royal forces. You can still see the remains of the tunnel the besiegers dug through solid rock to try to mine the walls, and how they were stopped when the besieged dug another tunnel which connected with it.
Eventually, though, the Protestants were defeated, and those inside- including leading reformer John Knox- were imprisoned or sent to be galley slaves in France. Yet in the end it was the Protestants who would triumph over Scotland, and the nearby ruins of the once great Cathedral show just how much attitudes changed. The cathedral had been built to hold the relics of St Andrew, supposedly brought there by a fourth century Greek monk to escape Emperor Constantine. Once such a shrine lost its importance in the Reformation the Cathedral was abandoned, and the sad ruins are all that remain of what must once have been a huge, proud building.
After a wander along the beach and clambering over rocks (although I didn't really have the right shoes for this!) and a walk round the town it was time to get the train back to York. The view from the East Coast main line is absolutally beautiful between Newcastle and Edinburgh, especially around Berwick. But the line along the north side of the Firth of Forth was lovely too. The only damper on things (as it were) was leaving a sunny if windy St Andrews and arriving back into York to find it raining. But since that was the only rain that weekend, I can't complain too much!
So, having indulged my historical tendencies- coming home to find the battle of Marston Moor being fought on the racecourse next to my house was an added bonus!- seen old friends, laughed up my sleeve at American tourists' lack of knowledge of history, remembered how much I love Scotland and established that the north sea is as warm there as it is anywhere else, I got home, having had a relaxing (mostly) and enjoyable break- and wondering why the taxi driver who took me back to Leuchars had said that tourist numbers had been down this year. If you get a chance, go and visit!
A friend from university was getting married on the Saturday. Naturally, as he and his fiance live in Cambridge, they were marrying in St Andrews, Scotland.
So (unlike some friends of mine who decided to drive up and back in a day!) I saw this as an opportunity for a weekend away.
So early Saturday morning I was up and on the train to Scotland. St Andrews doesn't have its' own railway station, oddly, so I had to get the bus from the nearest one in Leuchars, which wasn't difficult as it was one of those stations that seem to be in the middle of nowhere, with a bus stop right next to it.
It didn't take long to get to St Andrews itself. My main impression of the city was that it was a bit like Cambridge or even York would be if it were on the coast, and if you replaced York racecourse with a golf course. Much as I love York, I think it could be improved by some sea, and a beach or two! Turn a corner in St Andrews, and there's a bit of university or an old church in front of you. The wedding was held in St Salvator's college chapel, and the reception in a building behind it which we were told was where the bride had taken her undergraduate exams (although the bar which pulled out of the wall probably wasn't open then!) Again, beautiful, apart from one or two of the portraits (I assume of former university bigwigs) on the walls.
Much of the following day I spent wandering around the place. I visited the castle, perched on a cliff looking out to sea. I was ashamed of how much I'd forgotten of the history of the Scottish Reformation, which I covered in my degree. The Archbishop of St Andrews was the head of the Scottish church, and the city and university were at the centre of the Protestant storm. After the Archbishop, Cardinal David Beaton had reformer George Wishart burnt at the stake there in 1546 his supporters snuck into the castle and murdered the archbishop, hanging him out of a window. The protestant reformers were then besieged in the castle by royal forces. You can still see the remains of the tunnel the besiegers dug through solid rock to try to mine the walls, and how they were stopped when the besieged dug another tunnel which connected with it.
Eventually, though, the Protestants were defeated, and those inside- including leading reformer John Knox- were imprisoned or sent to be galley slaves in France. Yet in the end it was the Protestants who would triumph over Scotland, and the nearby ruins of the once great Cathedral show just how much attitudes changed. The cathedral had been built to hold the relics of St Andrew, supposedly brought there by a fourth century Greek monk to escape Emperor Constantine. Once such a shrine lost its importance in the Reformation the Cathedral was abandoned, and the sad ruins are all that remain of what must once have been a huge, proud building.
After a wander along the beach and clambering over rocks (although I didn't really have the right shoes for this!) and a walk round the town it was time to get the train back to York. The view from the East Coast main line is absolutally beautiful between Newcastle and Edinburgh, especially around Berwick. But the line along the north side of the Firth of Forth was lovely too. The only damper on things (as it were) was leaving a sunny if windy St Andrews and arriving back into York to find it raining. But since that was the only rain that weekend, I can't complain too much!
So, having indulged my historical tendencies- coming home to find the battle of Marston Moor being fought on the racecourse next to my house was an added bonus!- seen old friends, laughed up my sleeve at American tourists' lack of knowledge of history, remembered how much I love Scotland and established that the north sea is as warm there as it is anywhere else, I got home, having had a relaxing (mostly) and enjoyable break- and wondering why the taxi driver who took me back to Leuchars had said that tourist numbers had been down this year. If you get a chance, go and visit!
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