Weekend touristico

We discovered a most magnificent spot:
the Royal Burgh and Palace of Falkland.

While some old residences are just museums, some feel completely alive. This 16th-century royal summer cottage somehow retained a sense of all those people who'd stayed or worked there in the past.

Don't ask me why, but this was especially strong in the tapestried corridor and impressively worn stone steps, leading from the beautiful chapel to what used to be the priest's chamber. It was as if Mary Queen of Scots (or less romantically, people contemporary to her but a bit more common) could have walked there just five minutes ago.

Photographing the restored interiors is unfortunately not allowed, so you'll just have to believe me when I say it is lovely.

Trivia 1: The palace also has a royal tennis court, the oldest still in use. The game certainly sounds more interesting than our modern tennis.

Trivia 2, on the theme of origins of names: Yes, there is a connection to the Falkland Islands. In 1603, an English nobleman rode up to the palace from London in 48 hours, because he wanted to be the first to tell James IV of Scotland that he was now the king of England as well. James rewarded him with the hereditary title of Viscount of Falkland, although with no lands attached. The Islands were found and named in 1690 by a protegee of the fifth Viscount.

And oh my boys and girls, here's the cherry on top!
I think this find is at least as good as Antti's NY place:

Ooh yeah, we ate at Luigino's Real Italian Wood-Fired Pizza. It was great, too, not only amusing - M had a Tuscan white pizza, just like the one I had in Florence, and I had yummy-yummy homemade tortellinis.

Very strange to find an Italian place of this quality in a small Scottish town, where any pastas on offer are as a rule overcooked, oversalted, and served with cheddar. It's obviously and deservedly doing very well, we only managed to get a table without a booking because we were there over two hours before dinnertime.