Hey Vanderbilt...Take Some Notes

For many, The Biltmore House stands as a testament to extreme money, influence, ambition - and conspicuous consumption.  Indeed, I felt the same way, for it certainly is a beautiful small home.  Small home, you may ask?  Indeed, because compared to the Palace of Versailles, Biltmore pales in comparison. 

No push mower for these gardens

The Palace of Versailles served as the French royal residence from 1682 until 1789 (of course a small revolution in France affected the living arrangements of the royals).  A small hunting lodge built by Louis XIII served as the basis for the extravagant building, and it housed Louis XIV (The 'Sun King'), Louis XV, and parts of Louis XVI.  Although the palace underwent periodic renovations and additions, ultimately 37,000 acres were cleared to make way for this monstrous abode.  


So how does Biltmore stack up to its French predecessor?  Let's have a look:

Rooms: Biltmore - 250; Versailles - 700

Acres of floor space: Biltmore - 4; Versailles - 17

Square footage: Biltmore - 175,000; Versailles - 721,000

Windows: Biltmore - 147; Versailles - 2000

Fireplaces: Biltmore - 65; Versailles - 1,250

Amount of land: Biltmore - 125,000 acres; Versailles - 37,000 (although these 37,000 acres were built upon and developed)

Estimated cost to build: 

Biltmore - $10 million; Versailles - $2 billion 

In case you are having difficulty wrapping your head around the size of Versailles, it is bigger than the Island of Manhattan.  

Perhaps one of the most well known rooms in the palace is the Hall of Mirrors.  Notably, the Treaty of Versailles (which ended WWI) was signed in this, ah, rather quaint reception area.  Massive gold and chandeliers adorn the area, and almost 360 mirrors add just a touch of class to an otherwise mundane room.  You either have class, or you don't.  

L'Etat, c'est moi...

A Man Walked Up the Eiffel Tower...

And said to his buddy, "I just finished a long climb."  His buddy asked, "What did you climb?"  To which the man replied "Eiffel."  The friend patted his pack and asked, "You fell?  I hope you are ok..."


This horrible pun is brought to you by "Watch the Speed Bump Driving School" and "Good Eggs Again and Again" Organic Farms.  Dedicated to Dr. Fahrner, a connoisseur of puns. 


Indeed, we did climb the Eiffel Tower. I stress the word climb because upon arrival at the base of the tower, we were informed that only one lift was operational; thus, we either waited several hours so that we might be uplifted to the very top, or walk up the first two levels and then catch the lift to the apex.  We debated, and 674 steps later (the equivalent of 43 flights of stairs) we prepared for our ascension.


Construction began on 28 January 1887 and was finally completed 31 March 1889.  Designed by Gustave Eiffel - designer of the internal structure of the Statue of Liberty - it was inaugurated during the Paris World Fair.  It stands 1063 feet tall, and for a time was the tallest building in the world, until it was eclipsed by the Chrysler Building in 1930.  Nicknamed the "Iron Lady," the Eiffel Tower was built using almost 9500 tons of wrought iron.  Over 2.5 million rivets were used in its construction...one might say the view is absolutely riveting...This old bird is an attractive destination: according to statistics, almost 7 million people visit her each year (75% of whom are foreigners) and approximately 50% have visited the tower on a previous occasion. 

Arc de Triomphe

The Arc de Triomphe - visible from the Tower - was designed to commemorate Napoleon's victory at Austerlitz in 1805 over the combined forces of the Russians and Austrians.  A demoralized Austrian soldier later told a compatriot that he had a plan should the forces ever again do battle with the French: "A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blownapart."  True story.

And your helpful tidbit for the day: 

If you jumped off a bridge in Paris, you'd be in Seine.

Thank you, I'm here all week.

View of Paris

When In Rome...Eat Like Parisians

Amsterdam Canals

From Holland, our journey took us to Paris, France.  Having not been to Paris in almost ten years, the prospect of visiting a major city was quite exciting.  That, and sampling the cuisine.  For better or for worse, Melinda and I decided to try those things that seem rather stereotypical, although I did ask a nice lady if the French indeed ate French onion soup.  They do.

Sun-ny Days, Chasing the Clouds Away

My wife's French skills are somewhat better than my ability to speak Dutch.  Certainly, the phrase "I am alone and I cannot read" is important, because it signifies that you have no idea what you are ordering from a menu and - as there are two of us - people thought we had (as the Scots say) lost the plot.  I sometimes become flustered in a situation that deviates from a prescribed course.  For example, whilst preparing for a meal I memorized the phrase "We would like some cheese."  After practicing for an hour, I deemed us ready to venture forth and have supper.  Having been asked what we want to eat, I dutifully answered with my pre-recorded script.  However, the follow-up question surprised me ("Where are you from?") and I responded with a mix of Dutch and French: "The egg is again watching the speed bump.  My aunt cannot read.  Yes." 

Pesky seagulls got into these snails...

Despite a slight language barrier, we had a wonderful time and ate cheese plates as large as the tire on a Land Rover.  Included in our diet was: escargo (they tried to escape but were too slow), the already-mentioned cheese plate (with Bleu, Camembert, Gruyere, Gorgonzola, and Brie),  creme brulee, chocolate mousse, duck liver pate, foie gras, and frogs legs.  Now, for lunch we ate...(I jest - maybe).  

"It's not easy, being green..."

Many people were intrigued that we were from Virginia, or "The South" as it is more commonly called.  In Europe, it appears that people conjure certain images when they discuss states such as Virginia, North Carolina, or Texas.  But, they find it amusing that I play the banjo, eat cheese plates, and drink coffee that will make mustache hairs recoil with fright.  

Foie gras on a bed of flambeed apples

Back In the Saddle Again

Harvesting the Dutch Wind

And so here we are once again, back in sunny Edinburgh, preparing for the final five weeks of our stay in Scotland.  This past week, our journeys took us to Holland, Belgium, and France. Today, we marvel at the wonders of Holland.


No, not the football team (that is, soccer).  For that matter, it appears that the countries we visited have not fared too well during the European Cup (including France), and again England imploded...but I digress. 

Sack races...

Indeed, windmills are still a presence in Holland, and often serve functional purposes.  This particular windmill (or windmolen in Dutch) is a mill, grinding various types of grains for meals and flours, and has been doing so for over 200 years.

Wooden parts within the mill

One may climb to the top - which we did - and we were informed that a motor used within the mill to power a smaller millstone has survived the test of time (almost a century) because it is, well, Dutch.  Apparently American motors would not last this long, I was told with a laugh: only the Dutch and the Germans can produce such quality.

Grist for your mill

Incidentally, my Dutch is rather poor.  My best phrase? "Again, the egg is good my aunt.  Watch the speed bump!"  This sentence is rather useful, especially when complimenting a family member on her cooking whilst approaching a protrusion in the road.  I do not recommend attempting to use this wonderful array of words at a border crossing.

When not touring mills, Melinda and I visited the coast and were treated to a drive through North Holland.  The Dunes are absolutely beautiful, and the sea looks much different in Holland that in Scotland (perhaps it is Dutch engineering).  All along our drive, we saw the prevalent pickled herring stands.  Once upon a time I sampled these fishy treats, but on this trip (alas) no herring was eaten. 

And it seems as if even in The Netherlands, some streets have familiar  names...Goeiedag!   

"Let us turn our thoughts today to Martin Luther King"
(James Taylor fans will appreciate this...)

Harry Potter and the Blogging Hiatus

Normal blogging activities will resume on June 23, as I will be away.  

Professor McGonagall, I presume

For those Harry Potter fans, I leave you with several pictures, the subjects supposedly serving as inspirations for characters and places in the Rowling novels.  Enjoy, and I shall return...

George Heriot's School...Hogwarts?

Here lies Lord Voldemort...

Olympic Fever

The Scotsman

13 June 2012

"Olympic Torch Visits Edinburgh"

From Wire Reports:


Edinburgh was aflame with excitement yesterday, as the Olympic Torch relay squadron blazed a trail through the nation's capital.  One could feel the sparks of excitement in the air, as thousands gathered along High Street to cheer and encourage the (rather slow) procession.  When asked what he thought about the parade, Dr. Mark C. Wallace of Danville, Virginia, replied, "it was well done."  


The faces of many were positively glowing.  Children and adults alike waved Saltires and Union flags in unified support, a gratifying scene in a country which now mulls potential independence.  One official - who asked not to be identified for security reasons - smiled warmly and noted "as long as the flame burns, I can climb the highest mountain, cross the widest sea.  I can feel the Olympic Fire burning within me."  

Crowds gathered to watch the procession

As the flame continues to move through Scotland on its way to London, officials are confident that interest in the torch's movements will continue to remain high.  Indeed, many feel that Scotland's desire to be a host country for the Olympics has been rekindled, having lately been derailed by the tram works which have caused numerous political conflagrations.  


A source closely acquainted with Picts Interested in an Olympic United Scotland (or PIOUS) stated that "it would be untrue, you know that we would be liars if we said we did not want to host the Olympics.  The time to hesitate is through.  We must stop wallowing in the mire and petition for Olympic representation!"  These sentiments were echoed by Scottish MP Hamish Cranachan, who solemnly vowed that "although we didn't start the Olympic fire - as it's been burning since the world's been turning - we didn't light it but we will fight for it."

Plans were made to light the five Olympic circles now positioned on the Mound, although city officials ultimately decided this might pose a hazard.  Drunken revelers - bound by a wild desire - might fall into the burning rings of fire.

Fried Goodness

Grassmarket

In yesterday's blog, I hinted that Dr. Amos and I would eat a deep-fried Mars Bar.  Although written in jest, we found ourselves in the Grassmarket last evening, near a shop that - of course - sold fried foods.

Definitely healthy...

According to legend, the fried Mars Bar originated in Stonehaven, the subject of a previous post (and location of Dunnottar Castle).  In some circles, the Mars Bar Supper is also referred to as the Last Supper.  Indeed, it is not healthy: a candy bar (similar to a Milky Way) coated in batter and fried in oil.  

This morning it does not
look appealing

To my surprise, it was quite tasty, having no fishy undertones.  The chocolate and nougat were partly melted, and the sweet tastes of the candy complemented the batter nicely.  If you visit Scotland, have one.  Then walk a few laps around the city.

Made by Jake & Connie Eckman?

After eating the Mars Bar, we then unanimously decided we needed a Sticky Toffee Pudding (STP). One of my favorite desserts, this pudding is a sponge cake mixed with chopped dates, smothered in toffee sauce and served with a side of fresh cream.  We discussed this in earnest, and Melinda and I decided that Jake's On Main rivals even Scotland's best STP.  


Safe travels to Dr. Amos, who braved the Scottish wind, rain, cool temperatures....and the deep-fried Mars Bar.

Flowers of Scotland

Many thanks to those of you sending in food challenges...Citizen E has thrown down the fried gauntlet, suggesting that I attempt to eat a deep-fried Mars Bar.  As luck would have it, we found a fish 'n chips shop in the Grassmarket that sells this delicacy.  If I am successful, I of course will post before and after photos.

Fiddlehead Fern

Scotch Broom

Over the past several weeks, my wife has taken numerous pictures of plants and flowers seen during our travels.  We have not identified all of them, and warmly welcome identifications.  

The roses are now beginning to bloom in Princes Street Gardens and provide a colorful backdrop to the less-than-picturesque tram construction.  Of particular note are the yellow roses, which seem to thrive in this damp, rather cool climate.  Bees are attracted to the Scotch Broom; although we have consumed our share of honey, bees have been rather scarce.  And overall, we have not seen many insects (minus the midges, which can and will bite).      

Gorse

Of course the fields of oil seed rape are highly visible, as the bright yellow stands out amongst the green fields of barley and the earthen mounds which will yield massive potato crops.  Gorse - a prickly bush that looks rather scrubby - is fairly prominent on the sea coast and bears yellow flowers which smell faintly like Hawaiian Tropic sunscreen.  

McAmos the Cheerful leaves this fair country tomorrow, and we wish him safe travels.  Perhaps he, too, will sample the deep-fried Mars Bar...

Will McAmos the Cheerful and Wallace the Witty

tame the gooey goblin?  Will our fearless heroes conquer the melted monster whilst remaining intrepid in the face of the caloric kraken?  Tune in tomorrow to find out if they were victorious, or if they faltered in the face of the fatty fiend!

Gastronomic Delights (or, the Blood and Guts Entry)

A recurring them, foodstuffs are certainly parts and parcels of my blog.  If you have followed my literary fare for the past six weeks, you will have seen photos and read descriptions of interesting comestibles.  Today, I give you the "Fry-Up" and haggis.

Just a light snack...

We shall start with the Full Scottish Breakfast, or "Fry-Up," masticated and digested with pride at the Edinburgh Larder on Blackfriars Street.  And what, you may ask, makes this menu selection so delectable (and filling)?  Survey says: toast, bacon, sausage, eggs, mushrooms, beans, and...black pudding.  Black pudding is so-called because of its color; it is essentially blood mixed with filler and cooked until it congeals (the blood may come from pigs, cattle, sheep, goats, or duck).    

Appealing, no?

Moving right along.  Haggis is one of those foods that exists in the imagination of some, for others is a myth, and for many is woven into fairy tales to scare children: "And then, the haggis leapt angrily from the bushes, snarling and waving its sheep stomach in the air, brandishing its intestinal standard with gastronomic glee!  Quoth the haggis, 'just a little more!'" (From "The Haggis," the not-so-successful sequel to Edgar Allan's Poe's "The Raven").  I will diligently distill a decent description of this delectable delight in a decrassified definien: a dish made of sheep's pluck (offal, or heart, liver and lungs) mixed with oatmeal and suet.  And spam gets a bad reputation.  Above, you see pictured haggis, neeps (turnips) and tatties (potatoes) smothered in gravy.  For those of you with a strong stomach, why not follow this link to see how haggis is made?  WARNING: if you do indeed watch this video, you may never want to sample this dish...


As you can clearly see, we have carefully chosen low-carb foods.  


In other exciting news, Dr. Amos and I have discovered our long-lost cousins:  McAmos the Cheerful and Wallace the Witty.

Uncovered in the nether-regions
of the Highlands...

Did you know?

Scotland contains one of the largest percentages of people claiming to be Jedi Knights, according to respondents answering questions pertaining to religious preferences.

May the haggis be with you...

  

Five Weeks & Still Climbing

WWII Monument, Old Calton Cemetery

Taking advantage of the nice weather (by nice, I mean temperatures in the upper 50s and mostly sunny), Melinda and I climbed Calton Hill.  Purchased during the eighteenth century, it was probably the first public park in Scotland.  Philosopher and Enlightenment thinker David Hume was instrumental in lobbying the town council to build a pathway within the park so that inhabitants might benefit from the positive effects of walking.

Disgrace? Edinburgh's National Monument

A collection of various monuments, Calton Hill - for some - is an eyesore. Although the city was once known by the rather distinguished sobriquet of "Athens of the North," the unfinished Acropolis (known as "Edinburgh's Disgrace) stands as a rather ironic reminder of Edinburgh's cultural and social aspirations.  Other iconic symbols include the City Observatory, a cairn commemorating the return of the Scottish Parliament, and monuments to Nelson, William Playfair, and Dugald Stewart. 

Nelson Monument

The Nelson Monument - if one is willing to climb - offers great views of the city.  At the top sits a wooden ball which falls every day at 13:00, in conjunction with the one o'clock gun fired from the castle.  During the nineteenth century, the Time Ball was used so that ships would be able to synchronize their chronometers.

And in other news...Dr. Amos arrived safely, no worse for the wear and ready to explore the town.  When asked for a comment, Dr. Amos quipped "Anna, Mark is working hard.  I am certainly impressed with what he has accomplished.  He truly is an ambassador for DCC."  Editor's Note: of course this is an exact quote.

View of the castle from the Nelson Monument

The River Dee, also known
Drinkard's Dip

The "I'm A Landlubber Mini-Tour" Finale

Dunnottar Castle

Having sufficiently recovered after the tumultuous day at sea, Jubilant Johnny herded us into the Express and we set of for Dunnottar Castle.  


Located in Stonehaven (north of St Andrews) and once a stronghold of the Earls Marischal, Dunnottar Castle now is largely ruined.  However, the views are truly stunning. Also of note is the amount of tourists who talked to grazing cattle.  Why is it that people talk to cows?  I attempted to attract their attention with several cattle calls, but they did not respond to my American accent.  The cattle are prowlin', the coyotes are howlin', way out where the doggies roam....

Beach near Dunnottar Castle

Do not visit Scotland and assume that ruined castles are not worth your time.  In fact, these stone edifices contain more history in their skeletal state than some entirely restored buildings.  

The Scottish version of Angry Birds

After a tour of the ruins, we galloped to Stonehaven Harbour for a bite to eat.  I believe Jubilant Johnny intentionally ordered cullen skink - a Scottish soup made with smoked haddock, potatoes, onions, and a cream sauce - and wafted the aroma in my direction.  And I spotted this car; apparently some irritated gulls took out their frustrations on its bonnet (hood).    

Trek through the Highlands

The final leg of our journey took us through the Cairngorm Mountains and Braemar, a nice little village near Balmoral Castle.  After a meal of donner meat...what? Could it be that you some of your are unfamiliar with donner meat?  Well, pull up an ice block (my out-of-season tribute to Burl Ives) and listen to my tale.  Donner meat, in my estimation, is akin to spam.  Essentially, it is a compressed log of meat that continually spins on a spit, and a razor is used to remove the lukewarm flesh (essentially you eat meat shavings).  

Hey Grandpa!  What's for supper?

We've got Scotch eggs and whisky, with a big tin of beans,

Bap rolls and bacon and a pot of cullen skink.

Wagon wheels and a pint of ale, and for dessert quite a treat!

Spotted dick pudding and a pile of donner meat!

Yum, Yum!

Jubilant Johnny and yours truly

This entry would not be complete without a special thank you to Jubilant Johnny's First Mate, Sandra the Saucy.  She made our stay at the Hollow Leg Hotel most enjoyable, and her hospitality is unsurpassed.