Storyline: A Glimpse of Scotland
Our series of posts about Scotland will be incomplete if we didn’t mention two more things: food and poetry. Or, it is one thing? As cliché as it may sound, poetry is food for the soul. And we are in the land of Robert Burns after all.
I grew up with poetry. I was about 13 or 14 when I first read Burns’…
“Gin a body meet a body
Coming thro’ the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body—
Need a body cry?”
…in the Bulgarian interpretation of course. It takes a poet to understand and transfer the emotions of a verse into another language. Thus, poetry is so language-bounded that it often loses its power in translation. Shall I say poetry has no translation, just approximate interpretation that, if we still want to hear it as poetry not prose, injects the translator’s emotions into the original. In the case of the of “Comin’ thro’ the rye”, it was transformed into a beautiful love song that lit my interest in Burns’ poetry. (Ok, grammar police, I know it can be Burns’s, but there is a whole dialog out there with scholars on both sides and none has won as far as I can tell. So, since I pronounce it Burns not Burnses I side with the first one).
In our rushed society one often forgets about poetry, although we are surrounded by it. Just stop for a second and hear the words of the song you are listening to. If anything can show the power of words it is poetry.
“But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, it’s bloom is shed;”
― Robert Burns, Tam O’Shanter
Poor drunk Tam!
Poetry is all about words. And words are everywhere in Scotland, especially in Edinburgh. If we read them all we’d still be there.
One could find them cut into the metal framework of the street planters, on the facade of the Scottish parliament, and even in the windows of pubs, or the menu of a restaurant.
The windows of a restaurant, for example, were decorated with a wrought metal scene and the words of “The Beachcomber” by George Mackay Brown. The entire poem was reproduced!
Once upon a time I had made the effort to read Burns’ “Address to a Haggis” in the original (I own such a book), so of course for our first dinner in Glasgow we had to find a pub that served haggis. We happened upon a pub that had my favorite gin from our spring visit to England. They also served haggis, neeps (mashed swede/rutabaga) and tattties (mashed potatoes). I loved it!
So, haggis it was, many times in many places and many interpretations…
…and cullen skink: this is a thick soup resembling chowder with smoked haddock, potatoes and other veggies. Bar the lack of good affordable salads and vegetable dishes, we liked the food we tried.
In general, after a rich Scottish breakfast, or sooner brunch, and fruits or yogurt we only needed one other meal around 4pm to 5pm.
We would share an appetiser or soup and a main dish. The soups were great, except the tomato soup. It was a sample of one, however it was so bad (felt like eating ketchup with vinegar), that I didn’t dare trying it at another place.
We also found the street art and subtle wit quite interesting. There were good street performers regardless the weather. They do love Leonard Cohen in Glasgow, don’t they? Halleluja!
When visiting a new place, there is something that strikes me about this place, something on a subconscious level, that often pops in my head as a word or two I associate with the place. For example, Manchester – grey, London – royally cold, Paris – romantic (now this is a cliché, isn’t it), Copenhagen – kind, etc.
So, what were my words for some of our Scottish destinations: Glasgow – comfortable, Edinburgh – poetic, Inverness – pristine, Thurso- roughhewn, Isle of Skye – bleak beauty.
Join the conversation around our e-Table