Scottish Lentil Soup; (CURRIED) just like mum made it.

A healthy choice, but no foo-foo, just a great recipe for traditional Scottish Lentil Soup.
(I came out of Dillons tonight, the snow was falling, and I went back inside to get a turnip (neep), saying "Ach, I hate this cold weather, I'm having soup!")

Ingredients; 1lb carrots, 1 lb Rutabaga (turnip/neeps), 1lb potatoes, 4oz RED lentils, 1 Onion, 4 chicken stock cubes (buy Pollo mexican, they're cheaper.... see, told you I was Scottish)
(For Tomato and Lentil soup, just add two tins chopped tomatoes at the start, and reduce water by 1 pint)

Method; Bring to boil 3 pints of water with the stock cubes. Chop Carrots, Rutabaga, and onion; add to the boiling stock, cover, and boil sharply for an hour. Turn down the heat, add chopped Potatoes and RED lentils, boil gently for an hour, stirring frequently.

That's the soup ready..... for wimps!
(Or traditionalists; The soup is actually ready to eat at this point, and totally traditional Scottish fare.)

Now for the 'special' ingredients;

You can add....... 2 tablespoons curry powder..... for Curried Lentil Soup.
You can add....... 5 tablespoons curry powder..... for REALLY Curried Lentil Soup
You can add....... a huge dollop of A1 sauce, Worcester sauce, (or any other stuff you might think appeals).
Parmesan cheese is good, ginger spice, turmeric, saffron, absinthe, ground mammoth tusks, whatever warms the cockles of your heart.

And whatever you do, DON'T listen to the idiots that think you can make this with any old lentils.... I'm a Manchester United Supporter.... THEY HAVE TO BE RED LENTILS!!!
(Please trust me on this... I don't have shares in the "Red Lentil Co.")

The Darien Chest.

Yup, now you've seen it; the Darien Chest.
The complex locking system repaired recently, now sitting in Edinburgh, where it originally sailed from.
If it sailed with gold, I would have understood the locks, but as far as I can see, the ships sailed with seeds, trade goods, and totally stupid cargo.
Mirrors, and trinkets for the Mosquito Indians.
Turnip and leek seed for the farmers... (they were obviously going to ignore the copious indigenous fruits and veg, and going for a 'kale' mixture)
Hundreds of pounds of wigs.... YES, you heard me; WIGS.
A gold smelter..... to melt all that traded or stolen Spanish gold.
And a coin maker.... oh boy.... if only they knew then what we know now....

They would have taken..... more Doctors, more nurses, more dysentry tablets, MUCH more laudnum and opiate derivatives.
They would have taken more guns, pistols, knives, bayonets, and all other killing devices.
OR, the best thing of all, someone could have took the keys to the ships..... it would have saved 3000 lives, and a linking-at-the-hip with England.

Gorebridge; A Famous Historical Landmark.

Gorebridge; a sleepy village 10 miles south of Edinburgh?

NO! It was the epicenter of the Scottish Gunpowder industry at the turn of the nineteenth century.

At the actual Gore Bridge, in the dip between Gorebridge village and Birkenside, stood the only Scottish Gunpowder mill.
(Ever wondered why the hill was called Powdermill Brae?)

In 1794, a pair of investors, William Hitchener and John Hunter, leased the land from the Buccleuch Estates, and worked under the bridge (diverting the water through sluces and watermills) to produce the best quality gunpowder.

Initially, in a time of peace, the mill advertised as a sporting company. But soon, Britain was involved in a struggle against Napoleon Bonaparte, and many cartloads of their black powder product were sent north to Leith docks, (where the first Darien ships sailed from) then by sea to Grangemouth, then by canal to Greenock (where the second and last Darien ships sailed from), then to Liverpool, to be shipped to the army in Europe.

For the Gorebridge historians, the street name "Powdermill Brae" is a sure clue to this history. The houses (now long gone) under the bridge were called the "Black Raw". Basic, I know. But I once lived in "Tattie Raw", not far from the Gorebridge site.

It's in my blood.

It's wee bits like this that bring the history home. "Tattie Raw" (Victoria Street)... just ask the Wrights, the Halls, the Merchants, the Olivers and many, many more.

Mike Oldfield; Music to write a novel by.

Almost every time I write, I play some album by Mike Oldfield. Best known for his "Tubular Bells" music score from the film "The Exorcist", he has consistantly came thru with superb musical albums over the last thirty years.
I select the particular album that suits my mood, or the musical style that fits the passage of the book. I close my eyes. And I'm there.
There's one particular theme, called "Lake Constance" that fits one scene.
The ships have arrived at Darien. They have found Golden Island, and are ready to sail into Caledonia Bay, the site of the new colony.
"Lake Constance" is a slow, flowing, almost waltz-like theme, that takes me into the bay at the head of the ships.
As the orchestral strings play the theme, the ships sail past the rocky sides, past the huge mangrove roots, into a bay "that could hold a hundred ships".
The Scots had arrived.
If Jamie ever appears on film. Mike, my friend, will be writing the music.

Five Ships sunk, Three thousand Scots dead.

Three Company ships sailed from Leith, and they picked up two more in Kirkcaldy. They sailed north, and round Scotland to avoid alerting English shipping in the English Channel. It took them three weeks to sail round Scotland.

You could have walked from Leith to Ayr in less time, and had better food on the way.

Just a small taste of the downright silly things the Scots did during that horrendous two years.

From ten ships involved, one returned to Scotland, the rest were sunk.

Of the 3000+ people who participated, less than 100 were ever to see their homeland again.

Some were shipwrecked, some turned to piracy, some abandoned in New York.

And those were the lucky ones.

Scots were sold into slavery in Jamaica.

Scots died in Spanish jails in Carthagena.

Before the voyage was two months old, cholera broke out on the ships, and at the worst point in the whole settlement, Scots were dying at the rate of more than TEN per day. There were no able bodied men to bury such a number, so some were just slipped over the side of the anchored ships.

And you try telling this to the kids today.....

St. Ninian's Wharf; the Birthplace of Jamie Leith

St Ninian's Wharf, Leith, Edinburgh, 1850.

I know, it's not quite the 1698 images you'd like, but it does show the 17th century tower on the Leith Parish Church.

The town was separated from Edinburgh in those days. A tree lined "walk" led from the edge of Leith, all the way up to the gates of Edinburgh.

The Capital City has grown, swallowing the 'minnow' of Leith, but the wide connecting street is still commonly known as "The Walk", and proudly 'Leith Walk' on the street signs.

The wharfs are long gone, the new developers capturing every parchment of real estate, but the history will never die.

You can't change the cobbled streets (law) and new buildings must "maintain the integrity and period" of the area.

Leith will always be a harbour town. As long as Giovani's is by the the river (Water of Leith), it will always have Edinburgh's best Pizza, and the cobbled streets will continue to twist the ankles of the tourists.

And it will always be the birthplace of James Ross Leith.

Leith in My Bones

Back in 1998, my business partner and I parted company, and I was forced to look for new premises in Edinburgh. Leith at that time was just beginning a new phase and I got a look at a cheap set of offices.

Now, remember I'm a keen historian-here's how the estate agent described it to me:

"It's a bit run down, the steps are worn, but you know, it is 16th century. There's metal posts throughout the three offices, they're the remains of a stable from that time period. It's also near the water, maybe 50 yards from the old harbour." (photo above shows the view across the Water of Leith, just round the corner from my office)

Man.... how could I resist. For the next two years I walked those old Leith cobbles, worn from five hundred years of use. I heard the music coming from the pubs across the water, saw the sad remnants of the heyday of the world's oldest profession still plying their trade on the corner at night..and somewhere in my head, Jamie leith was born.