Way back in April I told you of the eternal argument between the Cornish and the Devonians about whether jam or cream should be put on the scone first. What I didn't cover was the divide between those who pronounce scone as in con or scone as in cone. This is not just between the Cornish and the Devonians, but throughout the whole of the UK, and I suspect the whole of the English-speaking world (where the scone exists). Personally, I'm a 'scone as in con' kind of person. However, when it comes to Scone Palace we are confronted with a third pronunciation, for which there is no counterargument. It is pronounced 'scoon,' which seems odd, but very Scots. So for this post you can forget about scone as in con and scone as in cone as no such scone of either type exists here. We are at Scone as in scoon here, whether you like it or not.
I arrived on Monday, which seems like an awfully long time ago now as I've alternated being very busy with being very lazy. Either way, I haven't had time or energy to update you on my ride until now, and now I have to because tomorrow I move on. I'd better get on with it then, hadn't I?
So yes, I arrived on Monday after a 60km ride, which wasn't too bad, though I did 35km 'uphill', including 15km at 5 gears of increased resistance from my usual - level 11 - and 20km at 4 gears of increased resistance. For all that it was a relatively short leg of my ride, I made it hard work for myself because I'm getting into mountainous territory and I want to replicate that as much as I can so that you know that you're getting your money's worth from me. Even with the substantial uphill stretch, I managed to complete the 60km in 2 hours and 11 minutes.
I was pleased with my time, but also very pleased with my leg symmetry. In the photo you can see that it says 47/53, which itself is very good, but when I checked the analytics at the end of the session it showed my average as 50/50. Perfect! I'm certainly not perfect all the time, but my symmetry is generally much improved from when I first started at Pop-Up Gym, and it's all having an effect on my general health and fitness. My physio has noticed a difference and says that I am now regaining a little flexion muscle activity in my ankles, which means that I may eventually be able to do without the calipers, depending on how much improvement I get. I know of others who go to Pop-Up Gym who are making similar progress, gaining movement where they thought they never would again, and the nerve activity stimulating that new movement is also giving intermittent improved sensation. One person in particular I know is now more hopeful that he may, one day, be able to stand again and possibly walk a few steps. This is why Pop-Up Gym is so important and why I'm doing this ride - to raise funds for all of who go, for all those who could benefit, to keep this gym open and our hopes of improvement alive. Even if we don't improve from our spinal injuries, we can at least all improvement our general health and well-being by going to PUG
With that reminder of why I'm doing this in the forefront of your mind, let me now tell you about Scone Palace. Firstly, and very sadly, it is not made of scones. It doesn't even have a monument to the delicious baked scone in the grounds. Shockingly, it does not even belong to a family of scones! In fact, I have no idea why it is called scone, but without knowing, you may actually have heard of Scone or something that was from Scone. Have you heard of the Stone of Scone? Or the Stone of Destiny, as it is otherwise known? I think a film was made about it, unimaginatively called, 'The Stone of Destiny.'
The Stone of Destiny is steeped in history, legend, and myth, and I think its origins are rather uncertain, though legend says it is Irish and taken to Moot Hill at Scone Palace. You can read a very good account of the legend that explains where Scotland got its name and how the stone came to be taken to Scone at the Undiscovered Scotland page for Scone Palace. The bit that explains why Scone became such a significant place for the Scots is that the Stone of Destiny/Stone of Scone became the item upon which kings of Scotland were enthroned, one of the most famous being Robert the Bruce, so the stone became one of the emblems of Scottish nationhood.
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| A replica of the Stone of Scone outside the chapel on Moot Hill at Scone Palace |
Perhaps you can now understand why Scone Palace is of such importance to Scottish History, and bears some of the scars of the animosity of centuries past between Scotland and England. I think that it is the Murray family, and the Earl of Mansfield, who live in Scone Palace today and have done for several centuries, with the third Earl having commissioned the rebuilding of the palace in 1803 to what is seen today.
I had rather been hoping that I might be able to stay in one of the guest rooms...
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| Ambassador Room |
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| Balvaird Apartment |
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| The MacGregor Room |
...they'd forgotten to book me a room and now they were all occupied by the band and the pipers, and other folk playing a part in the party. I pretended I didn't mind and pitched my tent...
The gardens are beautiful, actually, so it's no real hardship camping in the middle of them with their gorgeous views first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and it's not as though I'm cold in my four poster camp bed and luxury mattress and duvet thanks to the duck-billed haggis at Leadhills. I also get the company of the friendly peacocks who roam the gardens freely...
I also met this chap up by the chapel on Moot Hill
He's not very talkative.
I was told that I could make use of the kitchen garden too...
...but then they said that of course I was to join them in the Long Gallery for dinner, and would only need to take vegetables from the kitchen garden for any extra snacks I might like and supplies for my onward journey. I got the feeling that they may have forgotten that I was the very reason for all their celebration this week, but I forgave them (mostly) when I saw the set up for the evening meal...
Apparently they usually eat in the dining room (makes sense)...
...but clearly there wasn't going to be enough seating for all of us in there. However, I did take their ideas from the state dining table to replicate in the tent while I'm here...
I tell you what, they've got so much china here that I'm sure they can't ever get to use it all. They have a whole room for it!
I'm not quite sure how I missed it when I came in, but as I was leaving the Inner Hall to go back out to my tent and the military band, I got the fright of my life when I saw this out of the corner of my eye...
I wasn't sure if he was going to hit me with the half a tree he's holding or start to pole dance! Either way, I wasn't going to hang around to find out, and ran outside, straight into the path of some other non-too-friendly-looking folk...
...I think they were lost...from the 16th Century, and weren't too happy about it. I think the horses were friendly enough, but not the folk sitting on top with their pointy flag poles and sharp jousting lances. I scarpered, and before I got as far as my tent I came across a biplane sitting doing nothing. I had no intention of flying it, but it seemed like a good place to hide from these rampaging Medieval knights as they wouldn't even know what a biplane was - well before their time...
I clambered in to the back, hunched down low, and covered myself with a tarpaulin thing that was down in the foot-well. I only intended on staying there while I was in danger of being jousted, but all of a sudden the engine whirred in to action, the propeller spluttered, we'd begun to trundle along the ground, and before I knew it we were in the air above the palace...
What could I do? Well yes, it would probably have been most sensible to have stayed put, but no, sense is not my forte and I decided that I should probably get out of the plane. I stood on the seat, scaring the heebeejeebees out of the pilot, who shouted something at me that I couldn't hear for the rush of air past my head and in my ears. He looked angry, or maybe it was fear, but either way I really felt that I shouldn't be there so I made every attempt to leave him to it. It didn't look like a good idea to launch myself out the side without a parachute, so I figured the next best thing was just to get out of the pilot's sight. I climbed up on the wing, inadvertently using the pilot's head as a step, which didn't endear me to him to say the least. With a lot of scrabbling about, a few near slippages off the plane, and one or two choice words, I eventually managed to get on top of the wings...
It was very windy up there, and none too easy to hold on...
...though I eventually got the hang of it and found it rather exhilarating. It's possible that I may have begun to show off a little...
All the while the pilot was shouting something at me, but I couldn't hear him and he couldn't see me. This must be why he'd radioed for someone else to come along...
...and soon enough there was someone on their wing too who looked as though they trying to shout something to me as well...
...but I still couldn't hear what was said, and they couldn't hear me screaming that I couldn't hear them. I tried getting into a different position on the wing to see if that made hearing any easier...
Nope. I still couldn't hear them, though I did hear my pilot screaming something about getting 'the hell up.' He's no fun. It was terribly exhilarating like that, though having said that, I didn't really enjoy the next manoeuvre. Once I'd got back to the 'upper deck' it was a good job I was holding on tight because without warning my pilot twizzled us round and I was upside down again...
The person on the wing below me shouted something vague about other planes, safety, wind, cockpits, I'm not quite sure. I couldn't fully make it out, but I didn't have time to think about it because this inconsiderate lot came screaming past...
I think it shook all of us, but it knocked the other plane out of the sky, and although they were unharmed, unfortunately the palace entrance wasn't...
...and having seen that, I decided I'd had enough and just wanted off...
I spotted what I thought might be a softish landing in a bush, and simultaneously a good place to hide - in the maze...
It's tartan! It's the Murray clan tartan! Isn't it fab!
Not actually all that soft to land in from a height, though my guess is that it was 'softer' than the ground would have been. It was, though, a good place to hide because nobody could quite work out where in the maze I'd landed so, once I'd recovered enough from the fall to stand up, I was able to blend in with everyone who was searching for 'the nutter who'd fallen from the plane.' I just pretended to be rushing around hunting for someone who was surely terribly injured, and because nobody had known who the acrobatic stranger was I was able to hide in the crowd, and by the time I found my way out of the maze I saw that quite a crowd had indeed gathered...
Many had thought it was a planned display, what with the military band, the pipers, and the Medieval jousters still lost and bemused in the 21st Century. The Earl of Mansfield and his family decided to play into it and make it a great few days of festivity, mostly in celebration of my epic cycle ride, and invited folk to join me camping in the gardens...
I think everyone's had a wonderful time partying, with great discussions about who the mysterious aerial acrobat on the biplane was. There was of course the slight issue of the damage to the palace arch, but that was being repaired at first light the next day...
The following day there was a real festival atmosphere...
While big bands played on the main stage, the pipe band put on a spectacular performance beside the palace...
...and each night the festivities have concluded with a huge fireworks display...
...and the palace has been beautifully lit up all night...
It's still buzzing now, and even though folk are tucked up in their tents (and the military band and pipers in the palace), there's still quiet chatter leaking from the tents, giving the whole place a fun, cosy feeling. It's slowly melting into the night as folk fall asleep, and very soon I'll be sleeping too because the festivities here will end tomorrow when I move on for the next leg of my journey.
I have a very long ride ahead of me in the morning, in fact the longest ride of my whole trip. Tomorrow I have to cycle 100km (62.5 miles)! Plus it's through the Grampians, so it's going to be very hard work. Providing I survive then I'll see you there, but in the meantime, please do sponsor me if you haven't already. You can do so at my Just Giving Page, where you can also read more about my own situation and what Pop-Up Gym means to me.
**All photos except those of my tent and of the MotoMed are taken from Google Images or the Scone Palace website.
