The main reason I went to Dumfries is because I hadn’t been before and it was on my way south, so it was a bit ironical that, after so recently making a planned pilgrimage to see The Poet’s birthplace, I should find myself at the front door of the house where he died at only 37 years old. That he should have made such a lasting impact in such a short time is pretty astounding. And apparently he had muckle improved his lot from when he was a bairn.
Many know the poem but might not know the author as seen on a plaque across the street in a wee memorial garden.
As is this mural depicting Tam o’ Shanter
The kitchen. The Burns’ had a girl who would cook and help with housework although not a live-in. Burns had 9 children by his wife Jean so the help was needed. Jean gave birth to their last child on the day he died. (He reportedly 4 more by other women.)
And I’m betting he knew he was a dashing man
On the window across from his writing desk you can barely see where he had scratched his name on the glass with his diamond ring. I could see it but the photo was rubbish as I expected.
The parlor where the Burns’ would entertain. The room was off limits to the bairns.
Not the original bed but a close reproduction. I could barely fit kitty-corner, had I tried. There were heavy drapes that enclosed it allowing body heat to keep them warm
Burns was removed from his original grave and reburied in this mausoleum about 20 years later
Grace said before meals in the old Scot dialect as only Robert Burns could sayit!
Later that day I washed my hands in the River Nith
There are two foot bridges over the river. The more modern suspension bridge
And the Devorgilla or old bridge whose construction began in 1451. It makes for a nice walk crossing one, along the river then recrossing via the other.
And the Old Bridge House at over 350 years old is the oldest building in Dumfries.
I thought these were mergansers but they are called goosanders, fish eaters, this pair were working a natural weir called the Caul
I had to have a pint, John Smith, one of the smoothest, in a pub the poet frequented build the same year a few folks from England immigrated to America
This mural is just outside the entrance on the left. You could almost walk down the alley.
Another Station Hotel
On a hill just above the river between the two foot bridges is a museum and camera obscura, which was unfortunately not open as the day wasn’t clear enough for it to really work
It had originally been an observatory.
But I was still able to get a nice view of the city
I believe sandstone was the medium for these outside the museum
Woodworking tools
Old altar pieces, graves and mile markers dating from Roman times
Some local trinkets
And, to deter poachers, these man-traps must have been permanently effective.
And finally this memorial to soldiers from Dumfries who gave their lives in the First and Second World Wars. I liked the pose as he looked into my eyes. Maybe ‘liked’ is the wrong word as he seemed to search my soul asking:
“why?”
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