Our final morning in London was spent sitting in Uncle Walts flat eating breakfast and watching England being unexpectantly flattened by the Springboks in the Rugby World Cup Final. But that was earlier. Mom and I were now gazing out of train windows as the cold waters of the North Sea became the Firth of Forth as we eased around St. Abbs Head. We were officially back in Scotland, our ancestral home, after being away for too long.
As he dropped off of at St. Pancras Station Uncle Walt told us to look out for Ally, who would meet us at the Edinburgh station to help us get sorted. I wasnt much sure about what kind of help he would be however, since Mom and I already had a rental car all booked and wasnt Ally just a kid. I hadnt seen him for years. Ally, my cousin and Uncle Walts grandson, was now supposedly a functioning 22 Either way, it would be great to see him again nonetheless.
Mom and I were on our way to the coastal town of Elie in County Fife. There wasnt a direct train line to the town so we were going
to drive there ourselves. Unfortunately, while on the train we discovered that the car rental place in Edinburgh was closing well before our train would arrive. After some frantic phone calls we were left in the lurch with no car and just a cancellation to our name. Maybe young Ally would be of some use after all.
Ally was there at Waverly Station to greet us at the platform as promised. It is always an odd though pleasant experience to meet someone again as an adult that you hadnt seen since they were a child. He was a sight and we bundled our luggage out of the station and into his small car. We weaved throughout the streets of Edinburgh. The old buildings hovering over us in the November grey air, visions of stone and tweed.
Once back at his familys house we started making phone calls One of the phone calls was to his parents, my cousin Fraser and his wife Davina, who were out of town for a couple of days. We tried to figure out if we should still rent a car ourselves, have Ally drive us to Fife that night, or to figure
out the train/taxi/bus route we would need to get there on public transport. After much backing and forthing and numerous cups of teas we decided on a train and taxi route. However, by then it was pitch black outside. We would go in the morning.
Luckily, with his parents and Allys sister out of town, there were more than enough beds for Mom and I to spend the night. Ally offered to make us a meal, but we insisted on taking him out to dinner. We could only trust the lads talents so far and he had certainly earned a meal by that point. The area where he lived was overflowing with restaurants and cafes. As we walked to one, Ally pointed out the rugby club where he and Fraser, who had played the sport professionally, spent many of their days.
The place he took us to was called the Raeburn. Ally said it used to be a traditional old school pub, but now was under new ownership. It still felt British, but now in an upscale low lit borderline swanky kind of way. The bar area looked like it was gearing up to be a happening spot
as the night progressed. The old nightlife maven in me still has a sense for these things. But the three of us were just there for a quiet meal. The 22, 41, and 80 year old.
I was in the mood for something Scottish so Ally directed me to a local Scottish beer called Innis and Gunn, which was uniquely aged in bourbon infused oaken casks. Of course I had to also try the Cullen skink. Our conversation that evening was deep, intelligent, and full of family feeling.
The next day Ally drove us to the train station and helped us to purchase tickets for Markinch where we would then catch a taxi to Elie. Unfortunately for us, the train was absolutely jammed with passengers on that weekend day. I quickly spotted the last remaining seat and gestured for Mom to sit down. I would stand in between train cars with our suitcases at my feet.
