So, this’ll be a quick one.

For anyone who’s traveled for extended lengths of time - and as lightly luggaged as possible - you know well the challenges of keeping up with the laundry.  You may recall that we’d washed and dried two loads at the way cool laundromat in Keswick, but then had no viable options in Glasgow (the industrial-chic Moxy provided only an ironing room - yeah, what?!) or Inverness (Storm Floris!) or Aberlour (two long blocks of minimal services), making a date with a washer and dryer priority number one for Aberdeen.

After just over an hour from leaving Huntly Castle, we pulled up in front of the BrewDog Aberdeen Kennels, unloaded Nancy and our bags at the kerb, and I parked around back at a public garage.  If you drink craft beer - or live in Ohio - you may have heard of BrewDog.  They’re a 20-year old Scottish beer producer with more than 100 pubs internationally, and a brewery just outside of Columbus, Ohio.  We discovered them via their 3-season TV show in the mid-20-teens in which the two founders traveled the world, crafting beer from unique local ingredients.  Fun show, if you can find it.

The “kennels” are a block of six apartments co-opted within the Aberdeen Athenaeum Apartments, an aparthotel adjacent to the BrewDog Aberdeen Castlegate restaurant and pub.  Cool rooms with funky objet d’arte, such as the retro record player and acoustic guitar in our living room.  Bins of free candy in the hallway, a mini-fridge of not-free beer in our shower.  The YouTube video below provides a sense of things.

Oh, and hidden behind one kitchen cabinet door, Nancy found the washing machine.  But that came later.

As was our norm, we briefly settled in, then regarbed into our exploration togs, and hit the sidewalk.  Our loop brought us first to the Ancient Mercat Cross (traditional identifier of a town’s market square).  Interesting story there, the cross originally built in 1686 and situated nearby, then relocated to Castlegate in 1842.  More than you'd ever want to know is right here. 

We then walked north on Broad Street and past the striking Marischal College, no longer used for education, but instead as the headquarters of Aberdeen City Council and Police Department.  The only granite building in the world larger than Its majestic main structure, pictured below, is Spain’s renowned El Escorial, an hour north of Madrid.  And one of the better statues we'd encountered on our travels of the Scottish nobleman and king, Robert the Bruce.  (Portrayed exceptionally well by Chris Pine recently in the 2018 movie, the Outlaw King.)

Our 3-mile loop brought us north along its namesake street to King’s College, Aberdeen’s first university, officially opening in 1509, and now a part of the University of Aberdeen.  We walked along Spital and Gallowgate Roads for our return, then eyeballed a few potential dinner spots, not realizing in advance they were both housed in converted Gothic churches built  in the 1830’s and 40’s.  We later learned there are a dozen such bars neé churches in Greater Aberdeen, licensed such that they required the preservation of architectural design and significant artifacts, such as timber cladding, stained glass, and stonework.  We looked at Triplekirks and Slains, but others include Soul, Priory, and the Trinity Parish Church, built in 1794 and reborn the last century in several incarnations: electrical appliance showroom, banana storage warehouse, restaurant/art gallery (Musa), public house, and most recently as the bars Hop & Anchor and The Exchange Bar & Kitchen (recently closed).

Most wild to us was the recognition that even the youngest of these church bars was constructed before the oldest building in all of our hometown Seattle.

And in a week we’d be in ancient Rome. 

We stopped by the lobby of BrewDog and decided to dine early there, then retire upstairs for the night.  Pub grub, not worth any details.  And after showers, Nancy laundered while I typed out a blog post. 

We'd learned from our vacation rental bookings thus far that the vast majority of properties do not provide a clothes dryer.  Especially in Europe.  Washing machine, sure.  Dryer, not so much.  Or if one was provided it was incorporated into a single wash/dry unit, and if someone ever figures out how to use those things without shrinking or scorching your wardrobe, send us a note.

Laundry and writing continued the next morning, interrupted by late coffee and a shared acai bowl and croissant down the road at a bustling Black Sheep Coffee.  Good eats and satisfying coffee.  We were working on a couple of posts encompassing our last two days in Ireland (Dublin) and our three days in England traveling from London to Glasgow.  That meant wading through 500+ photos between our two iPhones, and researching several highlighted experiences.  Background and such.  That meant couch time.  Or propped up in bed, laptops humming.  Listening to clothes dry.

We shared a flight, tender’s choice: a lager, an IPA, and two stouts, one a dry Irish (think Guinness) and the other a pastry stout collaboration with an Edinburgh maker, this one with marshmallows and chocolate.  Too sweet, but still quite delicious.  Would’ve been awesome with a few Walker’s shortbread teacakes.

Destinationless, we then wandered the sideroads and came across a promising tapas bar called Cafe 52.  Narrow and high-ceilinged with an eclectic bespoke vibe and menus still warm from the printer.  We began with an array of cheeses, apple compote, and olives, then roasted eggplant, zucchini, and bleu cheese, a disappointing mushroom tart, and a pair of desserts: apple crumble topped with vanilla, and something called an Eton mess.  Crunchy meringues, chantilly cream, and Amarena cherries in Kirsch syrup.  It coulda shoulda been sensational.  Double cherries, anyone?  Uhh, not so much.  The highlight of the meal was the neighboring table of seven middle-aged women, raki healers all, rendezvousing for a couple of days after years of divergent endeavors.

We were immediately bummed that a lucky woman had just snagged the last decadent cinnamon roll (I know, I know, if only we’d remembered the God guy’s name), but we droolingly substituted that with an almond crosetto (croissant) and a maritozzi (new one to us: orange-scented bun sweetened with honey, enriched with olive oil, and filled with mascarpone whipped cream!!), and a couple of exceptional Americanos.  Everything they offered looked amazing, including their savory sandwiches.

And that was it for St Andrews.  Glad we stopped.  Hindsightedly thinking we probably should have put more effort into seeing the college and the cathedral, and maybe the Old Course.  A pint at the Jigger Inn.  No regrets, though, only good intentions for the next time.

Then it was on to Edinburgh.  And "The Fringe."

 We'll be in touch.