July 14, 2004

July 14, 2004 - Edinburgh

Anyone reading this who traces their ancestory back along the Trimble line owes me big. (More about that in a moment.)

The day started well with (1) good weather and (2) a successful bus ride to Hertz. Then, it turned to kukai, as the Hawaiians would say. The picture to the right doesn't do justice (yeah, yeah, yeah) to the queque (aka line) that stretched out into the street. Not a good sign, though it turned out there were only about 20 people between us and the desk. Then it turned ugly.

Without going into all the details (it makes me twitch), it took us four hours to get our car. It took two and a half hours to get to the desk and get into a car that was bigger than we ordered (or could drive in this traffic) and was defective. Then, I got boxed in by the truck delivering more cars, so we explained we weren't taking the defective car and would be back in an hour for one of the new ones just arriving. After an altogether delightful pub lunch nearby, and another half hour in Hertz, we launched into insane center-city Edinburgh traffic with left-hand driving and a stick shift. Despite scaring the bejesus out of countless pedestrians and other drivers, we made out way out of Edinburgh center. The nice lady in the bakery, who didn't have a clue where our destination highway was, insisted that we take a different route.

Our destination was Falkirk, a mere 20 miles or so from Edinburgh. It was presumably the site of Callendar House, an old residence of the Callendar family, which descended itself over the generations to include the Trimble clan. In other words, I was taking Sheila to her ancestoral roots, not to mention Aaron's, Evelyn's, and Henry's. Sheila's navigating was excellent (almost perfect). My driving was exciting, stressful, perhaps courageous, perhaps felonious (one U-turn may have set Scottish history), but I came through with no arrests and no convictions, and only once did I make two complete revolutions around a rotary until I found an exit I was willing to commit to.

Frankly, we didn't know what to expect--if anything. Perhaps a crumbly ruin like so many we've seen on the trip, or perhaps a remodeled building now housing an insurance company or crack house but with a plaque identifying it as the former home of the Callendar family. There was a good chance we were on a wild goose chase, but what the heck, I'm a devoted husband, father, and grandfather.

Our first indication that it might be more than we were expecting came with the freeway sign announcing an exit for "Callendar House." We should have taken that exit rather than assuming it was telling us the exit in question was 3 miles away. So it took us longer than appropriate, including a nerve-racking stop in a shopping mall parking garage that ultimately got us a guard who had detailed directions to the House. The map on the wall also listed, Callendar Road, Callendar Boulevard, Callendar Place, Callendar Ring, and two others I don't recall. Needless to say, Sheila was gaining even more respect than normal in my eyes. I felt as though I had married into royalty.

We arrived at the House literally as the front door was being shut for the day. At first, I thought they were trying to close 5 minutes early, but it turned out we were almost an hour after the last admission. (Thanks, Hertz.) Sheila was not to be deterred, however. After all, it was kind of her place.

Re-enactment by a professional intruder.
Do not attempt this at home.

By the way, this is what the "house" looks like.

Our pounding on the door produced an apologetic director explaining that they were closed for the day. We explained that Sheila was part of the family, that we had come all the way from the California, that it was our only chance to visit the house, and that it was Hertz's fault after all. The two staff members were very nice and took us on a brief tour of parts of the house. Here are a couple of pictures.

In addition to a quick tour of the house, we came away with brochures and other literature about the house, and Sheila gave them a copy of the information she got from Kay Collier. Though hassled, it was a good experience.

Getting back to Edinburgh was more excited (and error prone) than getting to Falkirk, but enough of that. Sheila's inspired navigating got us into the hotel parking lot. We had dinner in the hotel, followed by briefly checking into one of the city's oldest pubs, built in 1434. After that, it was all over but processing photos and writing a few notes. Tomorrow, we drive to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. See you there.

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