Research: Devil in the details

Devil in the details- What exactly does that mean?

The Stand In Queen

After being disappointed by the info on Google, I recently went on a research trip to Stirling Castle. I am writing about the 15-1600s in my twisted YA fairytale, and realised I had no idea what container they would put honey in - glass, wood, crockery? So with this one pressing question in mind, I threw caution to the wind, or rain as it was, and set out for Stirling. Going somewhere you've never been, and have barely researched, alone, on a cold rainy day, some may say is unwise. Some may be right. I managed to find the castle, paid admission, grabbed my blue tour-talkie (which was frustratingly always telling me about some fabulous place in the castle where I was not) and a map, and stormed the gates. Then I walked back to the gates and had a better look at the map and realised if I turned it upside down I could maybe figure out where I was. Confident I was on my way to ye olde kitchen, off I went. Nope. I was actually on my way to the inner cort. On the second try I ended up in the bed chambers of the queen, well not The Queen, but the old dead queen, who as it turns out was apparently 6ft 2 (how in the world I know this but have no idea what her name was, is beyond me) so perhaps I should call her the tall old dead queen, but I won't. Just like my advenure, I seem to be digressing- back to the story. Now, lost in plain sight, I thought that if I just kept going, I would eventually see everything and have an undisputed wealth of knowlege for which to spew out upon my WIP (how exciting). Not so.

Very High

High Court

The Kitchens

 I came through a vault and around a sharp corner, only to come face to face with a very high height. I don't do heights. Not at all. Back-tracking, I finally made my way to the castle kitchen and I was delighted to find that it was filled to the rafters with a tour group, and, more importantly, the all elusive TOUR GUIDE! Just what I needed! I quickly put my camera around my neck, and joined the group. Ready to learn all I needed to know about 15-1600s food, cooking, recipies, baking, and food storage, I got out my notepad and pen and waited patiently for the rest of 'my' group to file through the door. Once the buzz of voices quieted down, the tour guide began.

Little Demon Head

 In a foreign language. Really? There I stood, wet, cold, harrassed, and trying in vain to match his unknown words to ones I actually knew by phonetic sound comparison, which wasn't really working out too well for me. As 'my' groupees laughed at some clever tour-guidish brogue, I snaked my way through them taking zillions of pictures in the damp poorly lit rooms of the previously hallowed palace kitchens. What? Closing time? I stalked back to the gate, past the ticket booths, and into the parking lot. Realising I could hear voices, I flicked on my phone. No voices there. I kept walking, thinking I'd finally lost my mind with the stress of it all when I realised I had unwittingly stolen the very unhelpful tour-talkie. Being the fine upstanding citizen I am (though not officially a citizen of this particular country), I went right back and handed it in. They were not amused when I laughed about getting halfway down the hill with it. In fact, they were not a lively bunch there in the ticket booth. Security aproached, wheather to kick me out, or to put me in jail, or just to get out of the rain I don't know- I didn't stick around to find out.

The Devil

I finally arrived back home exhausted, hungry, and already thinking I should really PLAN a trip to the castle at some point. I flopped down in front of the computer, and, thank you sweet Jesus, there loading off my camera and onto the screen were brightly illuminated, very informative pictures of not only the whole kitchen, but loads of cool things that I had managed to capture on my roundabout way through the castle. All my questions were answered, from clothing, to food, and daily life right there in the small details of the pictures. And to my surprise, on the carved sand stone detailing of the building, was none other than the devil.