Champagne goes well with haggis

I checked out of my hotel and walked out into a cool and damp day but I was not disheartened by the weather. The day stretched out before me with opportunity to explore London once more and this morning I was off to Tower Bridge. I have no fear of heights so when I had read that the Bridge had recently opened up a walkway with a glass floor so that one could gaze down directly upon the swirling waters of the Thames below, I thought Yep! that's for me!

The easiest way to get from central London to Tower Bridge was to catch the Tube from Tottenham Court Road station to Tower Hill, which took all of 10 minutes. Walking up from the Tower Hill station one is immediately captured by the sight of the Tower of London. It is an awesome building even on a grey and windy day but I was not to be distracted by this bastion of history. I continued walking around the Tower and the bridge comes into sight. Walking along the road it gives one lots of locations for pausing and to enjoy the views back over the city skyline. There was the Shard, looming up high above the Tower, its sharply pointed apex in contrast to the crenelation edging to the  tower walls. A little way on, an outstanding view of The Gherkin comes into sight lined up with the Cheesegrater and is that the Scalpel I see? Perhaps not. London does have a way of naming buildings!

30 something years ago I had walked across Tower Bridge, the footpath deep in snow. That experience has always been a great memory for me and today I was keen to create a new one. The glass walkway did not disappoint. I am known amongst my family as a bit of a thrill seeker LOL (having walked around the Auckland Tower building outside many floors up, tethered by a single cord) so lying down on the glass and to experience the thrill of floating above the Thames and the roadway. A cute bonus is that the ceiling is mirrored so you can see your reflection. Leaving the Tower Bridge via the impressive Victorian engine rooms, my eye is caught by the multiple plaques set into the path - each acknowledging a worker on the bridge construction. Probably not a relation but I got a buzz out of discovering one for Thomas P Hayman, an engineer who had worked on the bridge around 1937.

Lunch was held at the Wetherspoons Free House. Perched upon a bar stool I held prime spot with a view  to the Tower and from there as I scoffed off my Jacket potato and glass of Pinot Grigio I was once again extraordinarily grateful for how life had brought me back to the Tower and Bridge. "When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life" said Samuel Johnson. There is no way I am yet tired of London!! I doubt I ever will be.

However my adventures this day were not over. AW and I met as arranged and over a drink shared our day's adventures but what we were most keen for was what was next - a ubiquitous black cab takes us to St Pancras Train Station and the Champagne Bar. We were catching the Caldeonian sleeper train through the night to Aberdeen. The Champagne Bar is delightful. Bathed in a golden glow and located on the Eurostar platform, we sat in a booth next to the train and watched as passengers settled into their compartments as we toasted our own adventures with champagne cocktails. Mine laced with cognac and angostura bitters, AW with gold flecks floating amidst the bubbles. Part of the fun was of course, as the bar is on the train platform, that given how cold it was we were provided with woollen knee rugs and heating emanated from beneath the table. A Press For More Champagne button was conveniently located at the table and we were tempted while we grazed on mini sausages and sliders in lieu of dinner.

The Caledonian Sleeper train is a highly recommended journey! The train we boarded was the last of the 'older rolling stock' as the new trains have been delayed being put into commission, but as we settled into our individual first class apartments, I was not concerned at all. The compartment was bijou but sweet. A comfortable albeit narrow bed, a space for the suitcase and delightful amenities including a perfumed spray for one's pillow were all any passenger could require. AW recommended we gain a seat in the Club Car so we proceeded there promptly. A table with a view was gained and as the train pulled away from the Station, I was most excited to begin this stage of the adventure.

The reviewer for the blog The Man In Seat 61 had recommended the full Scottish breakfast however I ordered the porridge and it was delivered to my compartment at 6.45 am. Can't believe how delicious it was nor how fast it disappeared!  Aberdeen was rapidly approaching and so with little time to spare, I gathered my belongings, tidied my hair and prepared for disembarkation at Aberdeen Train Station.

Aberdeen is a city built from grey granite. It would seem it should be a dark and gloomy city particularly in late January and in the depths of winter weather however my experience was the opposite. The streets are broad and airy and the light picks up and reflects from the granite, its inherent sparkle catching one's eyes. In a nearby coffee shop we while away some time before the hotel checkin time arrives. What ho! Crisps flavoured with haggis and black pepper or perhaps Aberdeen Angus? A walk takes us to the St Nicholas Kirk and one of the most unusual graveyards I have ever seen. The site glows luminous green with the moss covering the headstones. Many of the graves marked by slabs of granite forming table-like structures. I don't think I have seen such well preserved nor detailed memorials on the headstones. This one a shoemaker who died in 1840, this one the Jaffray family, a weaver and candlemaker. A penitent and grieving headless statue is a marker for another family of locals.

Friday 25th of January and it was Burns Night! A celebration of the life and works of Scotland's national poet, Robert Burns. Robert was born in Ayrshire in 1759 and pursued his literary career in Edinburgh though it was sadly a short career as he died of a heart condition at only 37 years old. In that short period of creativity he became a Scottish icon. His friends agreed they would gather and celebrate his life each year and this they did with the gathering evolving into the Burns Night of 25th January, Robert Burns's birthday.

AW and I were attending the celebratory supper at Ardoe House Hotel, a baronial mansion located about 15 minutes into the Aberdeenshire countryside. What a treat we were in for; whiskey cocktails at the reception but how could we not be excited by being piped into the venue when our taxi pulled up? The piper was in full Highland regalia and we grinned at each other in delight. I do like a man in a kilt and the other attendants at the Supper did not disappoint. Locals dressed up appropriately. A variety of tartans were evident and I was delighted to see how enthusiastically the men engaged in both the costume and dancing later in the evening. I spied a number who tucked into their knee high socks what I thought was a dagger but are called in Scotland called 'Sgian Dubh'. It is a small single edged blade worn at the calf, tucked into a sock and is worn as part of the Scottish national dress.

After the entertainment of Highland dancing and piping, the traditions of Burns Night unfolded. The haggis was piped into the room and the speaker followed tradition with an  "Address to a Haggis" everyone toasts the haggis and the meal is served. A traditional soup as a starter, Cullen Skink, a warming creamy soup of smoked fish and potato - and I must say totally delicious! Haggis, neeps and tatties followed washed down with champagne. I hadn't had haggis before but I was game to try! It is dark in colour and must say quite tasty. I tried not to think about its ingredients however its slightly peppery taste and oatmeal giving it a roughish texture ensured it disappeared off my plate.  Perhaps the whiskey sauce added some flavour too! The main was braised beef cheek, dark and rich. Dessert was not the expected Scottish classic Cranachan but rather Marmalade Whiskey bread and butter pudding.  

I raised my glass and watched as the ceilidh band began to play and the dancing began. Couples formed small groups and were reeling around the room following well known steps and beats. Kilts flew and dresses sparkled and it was in all a delightful evening. Ah Scotland, I do think I could love you!