Cameron’s Travels

I’m continuing my series of “sneak previews” for new listings near Stirling in our upcoming Rick Steves Scotland guidebook. Today we’re in Falkirk, ogling the remarkable Falkirk Wheel.

The Falkirk Wheel is a remarkable modern incarnation of Scottish technical know-how. You can watch the beautiful, slow-motion contraption as it spins — like a nautical ferris wheel — to efficiently shuttle ships between two canals separated by 80 vertical feet. With visitors center, boat trips, hands-on kids’ activity zone, and other amusements, the Falkirk Wheel makes engineering fun.

Cost and Hours: Wheel is free to view, visitors center open Mon-Fri 10:00-17:30, Sat-Sun 10:00-18:30, shorter hours Nov-mid-March, park open until 20:00, tel. 08700-500-208, www.thefalkirkwheel.co.uk.

Getting There: Drivers can exit the M-876 motorway for A-883/Falkirk/Denny, then follow brown The Falkirk Wheel signs from there. You’ll park in the huge, free lot, then stroll along a canal and across a bridge to reach the visitors center and wheel (about a 10-minute walk).

Background: Scotland was a big player in the Industrial Revolution thanks partly to its network of shipping canals (including the famous Caledonian Canal — see page *TK). Using dozens of locks to lift barges up across Scotland’s hilly spine, these canals were effective…but excruciatingly slow.

The 115-foot-tall Falkirk Wheel, opened in 2002, is a modern take on this classic engineering challenge: Linking the Forth and Clyde Canal below with the aqueduct of the Union Canal, 80 feet above. Rather than using rising and lowering water, the Wheel simply picks boats up and — ever so slowly — takes them where they need to go, like a giant waterborne elevator. In the 1930s, it took half a day to ascend or descend through 11 locks; now it takes only five minutes.

The Falkirk Wheel is the critical connection in the Millennium Link project, an ambitious £78 million initiative to restore the long-neglected Forth and Clyde and Union canals connecting Edinburgh and Glasgow. Today this 70-mile-long aquatic connection between Scotland’s leading cities is a leisurely traffic jam of pleasure craft, and canalside communities have been rejuvenated.

Visiting the Wheel: Twice an hour, the Wheel springs (silently) to life: Gates rise up to seal off each of the water-filled gondolas, and then the entire structure slowly rotates a half-turn to swap the positions of the lower and upper boats — each of which stays comfortably upright. The towering structure is not only functional, but beautiful: The wheel’s elegantly sweeping shape — with graceful cogs and pointed tips that slice into the water as they spin — was inspired by the Celtic double-axe. Or maybe it’s a propeller, evoking Glasgow’s shipbuilding heritage.

The big, slick visitors center has food, souvenirs, free WCs, and a few (not enough) exhibits explaining the Wheel. The Falkirk TI, just steps away, has similar hours and free Wi-Fi. Kids love exploring the activity zone that sprawls across the lake from the visitors center, with plenty of hands-on activities that illustrate how human ingenuity has figured out how to move water from place to place (from the lock to the Archimedes screw to the piston pump). Around the far side of the basin, you can rent electric boats and canoes, or go “waterwalking” (stroll — or stumble — in inflated plastic balls across the water’s surface).

Cruises: While it’s fun just to watch the wheel in action, for a complete experience consider taking a one-hour boat trip. These begin at the basin in front of the visitors center, and include a ride up and down the wheel with a short boat trip on either end — all narrated by your skipper (£8.95, about hourly in summer, call visitors center or check their website to confirm schedule and book ahead).

The town of Stirling is a sleepy place to spend time, with few big sights beyond its impressive castle. But it’s perfectly situated for side-trips to a wide variety of other worthwhile destinations in Central Scotland. For the next few days, I’ll offer a sneak preview of some of the new listings we’re adding for the upcoming Rick Steves Scotland guidebook (available next spring). All of these are within a 30-minute drive of Stirling.

First up: The Kelpies.

Unveiled in 2014 and standing over a hundred feet tall (“the largest equine sculptures in the world”), these two giant, steel horse heads have quickly become a symbol of this town and region. They may seem whimsical, but they’re rooted in a mix of mythology and real history: Kelpies are magical, waterborne, shape-shifting sprites of Scottish lore, who often took the form of a horse. And historically, horses were used as beasts of burden — the ancestors of today’s Budweiser Clydesdales — to power Scotland’s industrial output. In fact, the statues stand over old canals where hardworking horses would tow heavily laden barges. But if you prefer, you can just forget all that and ogle the dramatic, energy-charged statues (particularly thrilling to Denver Broncos fans). A café nearby sells drinks and light meals, and a visitors center is due to open by late 2015. You can also take a 45-minute guided tour through the inside of one of the great beasts, to see how they’re supported by a sleek steel skeleton: 300 tons of steel apiece, sitting upon a foundation of 1,200 tons of steel-reinforced concrete, and gleaming with 990 steel panels.

Cost and Hours: Always open and free to view (£2 to park at the horse heads, free to park elsewhere). Tours-£6.95, daily at the bottom of every hour 10:30-16:30, reduced schedule Oct-March, tel. 01324/506-850, www.thehelix.co.uk.

Getting There: They’re in the park called The Helix, just off the M-9 motorway — you’ll spot them as you zip past. For a closer look, you can exit the M-9 for the A-905 (Falkirk/Grangemouth), then follow Falkirk/A-904 and brown Helix Park & Kelpies signs from there.

It’s fun to tie recreational viewing to your travels. Here in Scotland, I’ve been watching everything from Highlander to Outlander. In Stirling, I re-watched Braveheart for the first time in two decades. And do you know something? It’s terrible. Mel Gibson’s much-assailed Scottish accent may very well be the most authentic thing about the film.

The town of Stirling has strong ties to the real William Wallace. From Stirling Castle, you can see Abbey Craig, the knob of land where Wallace and his troops surveyed the battlefield the night before they clashed with the English. Today it’s capped with a Romantic-era monument celebrating Wallace, filled with insightful exhibits that tell the real (non-Braveheart) version of events.

Looking out from the Wallace Monument, you can see the almost 360-degree bend in the River Forth, including a newer stone version of the original, wooden Stirling Bridge. In the Battle of Stirling Bridge, William Wallace and his ragtag Highlander forces hid out in the forest overlooking the bottleneck bridge until the perfect moment to ambush. Thanks to the tight quarters and the element of surprise, the Highlanders won an unlikely victory.

Watching Braveheart, you get an entirely different version of events: armies lining up across an open field, with blue-faced, kilted, berserker Highlanders charging at top speed toward heavily armored English troops. The filmmakers left out the bridge entirely, calling it simply “The Battle of Stirling.” Oh, and the blue facepaint? Never happened. A millennium before William Wallace, the ancient Romans did encounter fierce fighters in Caledonia (today’s Scotland) who painted their faces (the Picts). But painting faces in 1297 would be a bit like WWII soldiers suiting up in chain mail.

Braveheart takes many other liberties with history. William Wallace did not vengefully kill Andrew de Moray for deserting him at Falkirk (Moray fought valiantly by Wallace’s side at Stirling, and died from battle wounds). Robert the Bruce did not betray Wallace to the English. And William Wallace most certainly did not impregnate King Edward II’s French bride…who was 10 years old, not yet married to Edward, and still living in France at the time of Wallace’s death. (Entire websites are dedicated to outlining the many other inaccuracies in the film.)

Also, the modern notion of national “Freee-dooooom!” was essentially unknown during the divine-right Middle Ages. Wallace wasn’t fighting for “democracy” or “liberty”; he simply wanted to trade one authoritarian, aristocratic ruler (from London) for another authoritarian, aristocratic ruler (from Scotland).

Even the film’s title is a falsehood: No Scottish person ever referred to Wallace as “Braveheart,” which was actually the nickname of one of the film’s villains, Robert the Bruce. After his death, Robert’s heart was taken (in a small casket) on a crusade to the Holy Land by his friend Sir James Douglas. During one battle, Douglas threw the heart into an oncoming army and shouted, “Lead on, brave heart, I will follow thee!” Apparently, Mel Gibson must have heard this story and appropriated it. It’s a bit like if Stephen Spielberg, when making the film Lincoln, said, “I know that nobody actually called Abraham Lincoln ‘Old Hickory.’ But it sure has a nice ring to it…”

The Scottish people I talked to have mixed feelings about Braveheart. They appreciate the boost it gave to their underdog nation’s profile on the world stage — and to its tourist industry — juuuust enough that they’re willing to look the other way when it comes to the liberties the film takes.

I’m not saying to skip Braveheart, or other fact-based fictional movies. I’m just saying don’t assume that you really understand the history just because you’ve watched Mel Gibson’s Hollywood version of it. For an armchair historian, one of the joys of travel is going to places like Stirling and getting the real story.

For years, we’ve had great coverage of Scotland included in our Great Britain guidebook. But as I research our new, stand-alone Rick Steves Scotland guidebook, my priority is finding sights or towns that we’ve not had the space to fully develop until now. One of the most important additions is Stirling. This patriotic heart of Scotland is like Bunker Hill, Gettysburg, and the Alamo, all rolled into one.

Stirling perches on a volcanic crag overlooking Scotland’s most history-drenched plain: a flat expanse, cut through by the twisting River Forth and the meandering stream called Bannockburn, that divides the Lowlands from the Highlands. Many of the great Scottish victories (William Wallace at Stirling Bridge, Robert the Bruce at Bannockburn) — and defeats (William Wallace at Falkirk) — took place just outside of Stirling. And capping the ridge is Stirling’s formidable castle, the seat of the final kings of Scotland.

It’s said that “he who holds Stirling, holds Scotland.” And visiting Stirling Castle, you can literally see the layers of history. This castle was built up by a series of Stuart monarchs: Mary, Queen of Scots, and a gaggle of Jameses (for whom the “Jacobites” are named). Centuries later, the British Army further fortified the castle to defend against a Jacobite siege. On this gate, you can still (faintly) see the cannonball pockmarks from the time when Bonnie Prince Charlie — the Stuart heir — attacked his own ancestors’ home.

Stirling Castle fell into disrepair for centuries, and was only recently refurbished. Today the structure feels empty and soulless. But a handful of finely decorated rooms (perhaps a bit too perfect and colorful) are brought to life by the chatty docents who greet visitors and tell them more about castle lifestyles.

While almost nothing original survives at Stirling Castle, the exception is a highlight: this collection of the elaborately carved and painted portrait medallions that decorated the ceiling of the king’s presence chamber. Today they’re lovingly displayed and described in a modern museum that shows off that fine Renaissance craftsmanship.

Beyond its famous castle, Stirling is pretty sleepy. I was there on a summer weekend, and — aside from rowdy crowds inside a couple of industrial-strength chain pubs — the place was dead. Scotland has more engaging towns to spend the night in, but Stirling’s convenience for hitting a variety of great side-trips is second to none.

I checked out about a dozen B&Bs in Stirling, and chose my favorite six to recommend in our upcoming Scotland guidebook. With its central location and royal ties, Stirling just feels wealthy and put-together. The tidy residential zone behind the castle, with its postcard-perfect Victorian homes, is fun to simply wander.

In Scotland, anywhere there’s tourists, there’s a bagpiper. Yes, I know it’s a cliché, but I can’t resist a good street piper. This one seemed particularly sprightly — he seemed to get a genuine kick out of interacting with tourists (not just posing for them).