UBC October 2025 - Linlithgow Legends and Perth Pitfalls

Making our way out of Edinburgh towards Loch Ness, we passed a charming little town called Linlithgow. For once, we were in the right place at the right time.

Since my husband insists we don’t come to Scotland to eat at Five Guys, I’m the designated Google scout for local restaurants along the route. That’s how I came across “Four Marys.” The photo on Google Maps was too charming to pass up, so that’s where we had lunch.

I had no idea that lunch would come with an entire history lesson.

The story of the Four Marys is about four Scottish noblewomen: Mary Beaton, Mary Seton, Mary Fleming, and Mary Livingston, who were sent to France as companions to the young Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots.

Mary was born at Linlithgow Palace on December 8, 1542, and became queen at just six days old after the death of her father, King James V. The four Marys shared her upbringing, accompanied her back to Scotland, and remained her closest confidantes for much of her life.

Tragically, Mary Stuart’s own story ended at the executioner’s block. Accused of involvement in the Babington Plot to assassinate Queen Elizabeth I of England, she was found guilty of high treason in 1586. Her Catholic claim to the English throne made her a perpetual threat to Protestant Elizabeth, fueling decades of political and religious tension between the two kingdoms.

Our next stop was the Falkirk Wheel, the only fully rotating boat lift in the world. Built to reconnect the Forth & Clyde and Union Canals. 

it replaced a staircase of eleven locks that once took nearly a day to navigate. Now boats can glide between levels in just five minutes.

In October, the place was quiet, no boats, no buzz, but in summer it must be a hit with families. Playgrounds, mini golf, picnic spots… you could easily spend an afternoon there.

Later that day, we drove on to Perth, where we attended what I like to call the Fawlty Towers Awards Ceremony.

All right, I made that part up, but our hotel truly deserved it.

The receptionist was friendly enough, but her first words set the tone:
“Your breakfast slots are either 7:00 to 7:30 a.m. or 7:30 to 8:00 a.m.”

Breakfast slots???

You’ve seen those polite signs at hotels warning that Sundays around ten can get busy, but this was different. A fixed slot, and only the early-bird options left? Fine. 7:30 it is.

Then came the next surprise:
“And what will you have, eggs, hash browns, sausages, bacon?”

No buffet, no browsing, just pre-ordering breakfast like a hair salon appointment: Highlights, wash, cut and blow dry, please.

“Would you like me to make a dinner reservation, too?” she asked.
Absolutely not. Let’s just get out and explore Perth.

I had chosen this hotel because of the generous room size advertised online. I was so done with the tiny rooms that barely fit three people and luggage. And yes, the room was spacious. Unfortunately, it was also freezing. After a long search, we discovered a thermostat hidden behind the curtain. That helped a little, but it didn’t stop the draft seeping through the walls.

By morning, my husband had a cold and was sneezing for days. The walls weren’t just thin for insulation, they also let through every sound from neighboring rooms, including TV programs and crying children.

Everything was old and tired except the bathroom, which looked newly renovated. Sadly, it had no heating either. There was one strange device in the shower that we couldn’t identify, possibly a water heater, though it looked far too small. I decided not to risk a shower that day.

When we showed up for breakfast at our assigned time, only two other tables were occupied. So much for the early rush! The staff didn’t seem short-handed either, several women were just standing around, yet our pre-ordered meals still took ages to arrive. When they finally did, they were so small that I half expected a magnifying glass to come with them.

And the coffee? Husband searched high and low for a coffee maker, assuming he’d need to ask one of the not-so-busy ladies to make him a cup.

“No need,” he was told. “There’s hot water and instant coffee sachets.”

Behold: the “coffee.”

It was the kind of brew that makes you question your life choices, and the definition of “hospitality.”

The breakfast room was, of course, freezing. Small wall-mounted heaters fought a losing battle against the chill.

A bulletin board in the hallway was filled with thank-you cards and glowing reviews. We couldn’t help but laugh: Did the staff write them themselves? Were guests bribed? Were those “excellent” ratings from the year 1890? Or has the management recently changed? 

In 2025, customer service seems to require climbing over the counter?!

We decided the risk of injury wasn’t worth it, left our heavy metal key on a plate at reception, and departed quietly.

Sadly, apart from our beautiful and well-located hotel in London, this was the most expensive accommodation of the trip and the worst value by far.

That was the last straw. From then on, we avoided “individually owned, formerly charming establishments” and returned to our tried-and-true chains. Narrow rooms, yes, but warm ones, with breakfast on our own schedule.

Have you ever stumbled upon a place like The Four Marys by accident that turned out to be full of history?