Two Nights in Stirling
In Search of the Famous Wallace Sword
While in Edinburgh I struck up a conversation with one of the locals, looking for my next destination. He mentioned he lived in a little town called Stirling. The name had not register yet, but when he brought up William Wallace and that his sword was on display at his own monument, I knew I had to go there. I left Edinburgh the next day on a bus for the two hour trip through a mix of meadows and industrial madness. Nearing arrival, the bus passed through a dystopian landscape the likes I’ve never seen. Flames shot up from smokestacks adding a feeling of despair to the landscape and the thick clouds of smog perpetually lingering above us. As we rolled into the city, the air was clear again and a cold shudder hit me as I made my way to the Willy Wallace Hostel, one of a handful in Stirling. The area is essentially a college town thanks to the University of Stirling, so there are plenty of pubs and restaurants to explore.
The hostel staff was friendly and greeted me well, but I have to say the rooms look and felt barren, like a halfway house, not like the pictures on the website. And like a halfway house the only other person in my dorm was a sketchy guy who looked as if he’d recently been released from prison. He made no qualms about giving me looks of annoyance as I began to unpack, rustling bags and opening drawers. I started to clip a hangnail that was bugging me all day and he snarled at me, ordering me to the bathroom to do that. I’ve met these characters throughout my travels, and they usually appear in the low-cost dorms in cheap hostels. I call them Hostel Honchos, because they impose their personality disorders on others, and tell people what to do, when to turn off the light etc. Basically, they think they own the place.
My room sucked, my bed sucked, and now my roommate sucked too. I asked myself, “Do I really want to go to sleep with this guy around?” I didn’t want this to be my experience so I did something about it. I asked the front desk to see another dorm with less beds, which is what I should have booked in the first place, but self-imposed budget cuts got the best of me. In the other room was a chubby college student who was in limbo until he was allowed to move into a flat he recently rented. We started talking about politics after he offered me a Budweiser, and we immediately struck up a good friendship. The room still sucked, but the extra £2 I paid were worth it. What a difference a good roommate makes! I moved over and left the convict behind me. It was that easy.
I headed down to the kitchen to heat up my half-star microwave dinner from the local Sainsbury (I recommend the Bangers & Mash), and later slouched in the common area sofas, which I admit are cozy and comfortable. The best part is that they have a shrine built out of VHS movie tapes. I popped in Braveheart to get me pumped up for my mission the following day.
That night I had a good conversation with my new roommate about more politics and found out he was a Socialist. Well, I’ll leave it at that. We had a few more beers and continued our conversation into the late hours. I decided one night would suffice at this hostel and tuned out for my trip to the National Wallace Monument the next morning, eager to see his famous blade. In the wee hours of the morning, I heard the guy in the other dorm screaming in his sleep. I knew that I made the right decision, yet couldn’t help feeling sorryfor the guy.
I woke up fresh and left early to spend a full day sightseeing and walking about the city. I climbed the hill towards Stirling Castle, passing along famous landmarks like the Church of the Holy Rude, where King James IV was crowned King of Scots, and directly behind it is a historic graveyard with tombstones dating back as far back as the 16th century. There’s also the Star Pyramid, which looks like something out of a Dan Brown novel. From there, the castle is just a short distance away. I didn’t go inside, since I had my fill of castles back in England, so I headed over to my destination.
I made a pit stop and grabbed the famous £2 meal at the local Tesco and took the university bus to the Wallace Memorial. From the Welcome Center, it’s about a 10–15 minute hike up the road to the tower. It’s a relatively new structure completed in in 1869 when Scottish patriotism saw a resurgence. Designed by J. T. Rochead, its tower has steep spiral stairs that stop at different levels along the way, showcasing the events that led to the Scott’s fight for independence and the rise of William Wallace as a national hero, where at the battle of Stirling Bridge he became an overnight sensation and the official Guardian of Scotland. Suddenly, there it was, the biggest freakin’ sword I’ve ever seen. It looks like it was wielded by a giant. It’s 1.67m and he was 1.97m tall. Apparently that’s the kind of sword you get when you’re a badass. I examined every knick and scratch, drunk with imagination envisioning all the past warriors that fell to this magnificent piece of history.
When I reached the top of the monument, I saw the best view of the city and its amazing landscape. You can see clearly where the battle for Stirling Bridge took place, and I got to appreciate the green of the land; it really is a magnificent sight. Bring a coat because it gets very windy and cold, and if you’re afraid of heights, don’t look below. On the climb down I warmed up at the local cafe with a biscuit and a coffee before returning to the city, cherishing having seen the famous sword that led the way to Scottish Independence. After a full day, I headed to Brewdog for a burger and a beer and checked in to the Stirling Youth Hostel, where I got a comfy bed and good night’s sleep before catching a train the next morning back to Edinburgh.
