Bothwell Castle

I'd never been to Bothwell Castle before, but it is in the care of Historic Scotland, so visiting was freeeeee for yours truly. As with many Scottish castles, the history of ownership and construction is complex and was not made easier by the fact that the Scots tore it down and burned it twice so as not to give the English a place to stay when they popped in for a cuppa, as was their wont in the Middle Ages. The did the same thing up at Stirling; everything you see up there was built after Robert the Bruce razed it to the ground in the early 1300s.

One small aside; the park area around the castle seems to be very popular with local dog walkers, both amateurs and professionals. A young girl came to the parking lot with two small dogs; one tiny, terrierlike creature and one that looked like a small bulldog of some sort. The terrier ran over to me right away to be cuddled and petted and then followed the girl around to another field while the bulldog stayed behind. His tiny little dog brain was not the sharpest, for he stayed pretty much dead in front of a car that was trying to leave the parking lot and only moved when I took him gently by the collar and led him out of harm's way. He licked and sniffed my hand as a thank you. The girl then returned with possibly the biggest golden retriever I've ever seen, as wet and dirty as only a very happy retriever can get. I cuddled and petted that one too. What can I say, I'm a dog slut.

These four featherballs were sitting pretty on the fence outside the castle.


Bothwell Castle.


The Great Hall.


The donjon didn't have a moat. The ditch is dug to illustrate to visitors that the ground level of the castle was originally about two metres below where it is today.


The shitter. I know how to find 'em.