For no reason beyond “Never been there, and people mentioned the castle”, I went to Stirling. Turns out to be pretty easy to get to; I could have caught the train as it passed through a station close to my hotel, but I decided to catch the thing from Waverley instead, mostly because I wasn’t sure about seat reservations & wanted a bit more time to find an unreserved seat.
Really wasn’t an issue, I didn’t need to be concerned.
The hotel was all historical, though in this case that doesn’t just mean “old”. I got a classic British hotel experience, I suspect, but without a shared bathroom; Single bed in a room with one sloping wall because it’s in the eves, everything nice but … showing its age?
And that keychain was huge.
I realised as I was checking the room after packing up that there was a kettle & assorted tea and coffee making facilities in on of the cupboards in a wooden dresser thingy. I’d not looked through all the spaces, especially that one because it was kind of awkward to get to, though looking back was also close to the power point.
My chief interaction with that dresser was finding a hand towel to drape over the mirror which pointed right at the bed. Because it was creepy.
Like a lot of British Hotels, I found that the bedding & heating did not combine in a way that provides comfortable sleep. This place had skylight windows which could be opened, so I could adjust them to let out just enough heat to make everything comfortable.
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