Drumlithie
Day 1. 7.1 miles.
The locals call Drumlithie ‘Skite’ but nobody can remember why.
The focal point of town is a steeple housing a bell. The bell used to toll to end the toil of the weavers who worked here – it rang at the end of each shift. Nowadays the bell only rings annually- to bring in the New Year. Skiters, as I assume inhabitants of Drumlithie are called, have had a soft spot for the steeple since it was built, which is why they claim they move it indoors when it rains.
Long before the prized steeple was built Roman soldiers used to march through this area. This was early in their UK adventure-before they realized that Scotland was cold and forbidding and it’s inhabitants were even more so if you had invasion on your mind. The soldiers (fed up, I imagine, of being continuously attacked by woad-covered Picts) soon stopped wandering around here, built Hadrian’s wall along the Scottish/English border, and retreated behind it to keep the Scots from harassing them. The wall is way south of us though and we’ll have to wait until we virtually get there before we can learn more.
If only the Romans had stuck around long enough in Drumlithie and made friends, they would have been able to loosen their helmets and take part in a hotly contested game better than anything seen in their amphitheaters; the annual Singles v. Marrieds football match.
As the sun sets over the steeple and the locals inspect the clouds to decide whether it’s safe to leave it out for the night, let’s act like Legionnaires and briskly march south. Towards Laurencekirk, I think.