Woolly says – We had woken to a slight wind and drizzle which was at least better than yesterday, with a lot to see we were up early and out and about to miss the crowds.

Dumfries is a market town and former royal burgh in Dumfries and Galloway, near the mouth of the River Nith on the Solway Firth. Before becoming King of the Scots, Robert the Bruce killed his rival John Comyn III of Badenoch at Greyfriars Kirk in the town in 1306. Dumfries is nicknamed Queen of the South which is also the name of the town’s football club. People from Dumfries are known colloquially in Scots language as Doonhamers.

Although grey overhead it was a sweet little town, with a memorial, a water fountain and the Midsteeple. The Midsteeple is a municipal which is used as a ticket office and a meeting place, the first municipal building in the town was a tolbooth on the east side of the High Street which dated back to the 15th century. After securing a share of the Scottish customs and excise duties in 1697, burgh leaders decided to apply this sum to erecting a new townhouse. The foundation stone for the new building, was laid on 30th May 1705. Having looked at each side of the impressive structure, we turned our attention back to Robert Burns once more.

Walking down the pedestrianised area of the town we arrived at a white marble statue of the great man which had been erected by the residents of the town as a tribute to him.

Heading towards the other side of the town we passed the Globe Inn, the Inn is Dumfries’ oldest pub, established in 1610 and famously known as the favourite “howff” (haunt) of the poet Robert Burns, who frequented it while working as an exciseman and continued to visit until his death. Next came a large statue of Jean Armour, Robbie’s wife who lived for over thirty years after him.

Across the road was our next destination, the graveyard where the wordsmith is buried.

Robert Burns Mausoleum stands at the eastern end of the churchyard of St Michael’s Church, whose red tower and spire dominate the skyline. The graveyard was full to overflowing with huge tombstones for the townspeople and people who had known the poet.

It was easy to spot his final resting place as it was the only white thing in the whole place.

Robert Burns was initially buried in the north-east corner of St Michael’s Churchyard, but before long his growing army of devoted fans began to feel that his existing grave was insufficient recognition for his genius. A circular was published on 29th November 1813 calling for the public to subscribe to the cost of a mausoleum.

Amongst those who took a leading part in the fund raising campaign was Sir Walter Scott. The first stone was laid on 5th June 1815, but it wasn’t completed until September 1817. A midnight on 19 September 1817, Burns’ remains were disinterred from his original burial place, along with those of two of his sons, who had died at the ages of 9 and 2. While the children’s coffins were intact, Burns’ coffin was in a poor state, revealing the remains of the body within it, which then itself disintegrated when moved. The remains of Robert Burns, and his two sons were then reinterred under the floor of the new mausoleum. His wife Jean Armour was buried in the mausoleum on her death on 26th March 1834, as was his son Robert, who died on 14th May 1857. It was a fitting tribute to the man and his family; we peered through the glass to admire the stone and stone wall mural before heading off to find his house.

A short walk away was the pretty looking house that where Robert Burns had lived with his family from 1793 until his death in 1796. After Burns’s death, his son William ensured the survival of the house, which was eventually restored by the Dumfries and Galloway Royal Infirmary and opened to the public in 1935.

Inside seemed smaller than expected with a kitchen and scullery to the right of the front door.

To the left was the former living room with a large number of display cases holding mementoes of his life and works.

Upstairs was a further two rooms, one which had more exhibits to look at including a range of portraits of him and his family.

The last room was laid out as a bedroom with an enclosed bed which looked very cosy and a crib, a tiny room off it was the poet’s study with a small desk with the Burns’ chair behind it.

We had one more area to explore in the town, a small rose garden across the cobbled street. Small but beautiful the roses were finishing for the year but the quotes and references to Mr Burns would be there all year round.

Having completed the town’s places of interest in relation to the famous man, we trotted back to the car and headed twenty minutes out of town to a place that I hoped would impress everyone in the group. Pulling into the car park even I was overwhelmed by how wonderful it looked.

Caerlaverock Castle is a moated triangular castle first built in the 13th century. The castle was a stronghold of the Maxwell family from the 13th century until the 17th century, when the castle was abandoned. It was besieged by the English during the Wars of Scottish Independence and underwent several partial demolitions and reconstructions over the 14th and 15th centuries. In 1640 the castle was besieged for the last time by the Protestant Covenanters army and was abandoned.

The closer we got the better it got, but before we became absorbed there was an added bonus, two castles for the price of one, we followed a track through some trees to find the very first Caerlaverock castle.

The first Caerlaverock Castle was a square, stone fortress built around 1220 by Sir John Maxwell. Located in a less stable spot than the newer castle, it was built on marshy ground near a tidal inlet, causing the buildings to collapse. Sir John who had been granted the land by King Alexander II, began building the original castle, but it was replaced by a new structure approximately 200 meters north of the first site around 1277.  Just the foundations remained but it was easy to see what rooms had been used for what, with the hall and chamber block very clear to see.

We wandered back to the new castle and took a few moments to admire its lovely stone and the moat running round it.

Heading into the keep there was a room on each side one used for storage and the other for the guards both had curved rooves and small fireplaces.

As we arrived in the main courtyard my breath was taken away with the beauty of the place.

A huge building to the left was full of windows but even more remarkable than that was the many coats of arms carved into the stone, each one different. It took quite a while to take them all in.

Inside was the former bakery with its large fireplace and oven which had produced huge quantities of bread a day for the servants and masters of the castle with the average person eating two loaves a day!

A sloped corridor took us into a room where the well had been, with small, recessed areas and very large windows for its time.

Heading outside we were able to look at the courtyard and admire the moat.

Murdochs Tower sat to the right, named after Murdoch Stewart, who was a cousin of James I, Murdoch had been imprisoned there as he hadn’t rescued the King quickly enough apparently which seemed a bit harsh. Inside I gazed upwards at the windows and fireplaces where the missing floors had once hidden them.

Walking back across the courtyard we admired the keep from the inside before heading up some steps and into a whole section of the bed chambers. Huge fireplaces were in each room with carved surroundings and the massive windows that the castle seemed to have in plenty.

Small rooms led off some of them where the toilets of the time would have been, looking across the courtyard, we could see the restoration area, very much a work in progress to protect the castle for generations to come.

The castle was incredibly beautiful and one of the best I have seen, happily the women and the corgi all agreed as we walked back to the car to drive to the last destination of the day.

The Dumfries and Galloway Aviation Museum is a volunteer operated aviation museum located in and around the World War II era watch tower (control tower) at the former RAF Dumfries, located two miles northeast of the centre of Dumfries. The control tower was in service from June 1940 until 1957, when it closed. The site was sold to a private company in 1960 and the museum founded in 1977 by the Dumfries and Galloway Aviation Group.

Having paid for our tickets a lovely gent pointed us towards the spitfire shed recommending that we visit that first as he had a school trip arriving in ten minutes who were going in there first. I needed no further telling and raced across the grass to check it out before the minors arrived. Inside was a lovely Submarine Spitfire Mk2A which had been made in Birmingham which made me chuckle.  It was in brilliant condition but display cases around the shed showed us some of the damaged pieces that had come from it when it crashed into Loch Doon in 1941. Fully restored now it was fascinating to see what had been damaged.

The next shed along told us about the RAF in the area with lots of relics including a front gun turret which was tiny inside, even a squeeze for me.

Some of the sheds were still being built and filled but had some interesting planes and helicopters nearby waiting to go inside.

The square control tower came next with the ground floor filled with engines from the fighter planes that had once taken to the skies.

As we climbed up to each floor we found exhibits galore from weapons to uniforms and the life storied of some of the men who had served there.

The top floor of the tower was great, set up as it would have been during the war years with typewriters that would have weighed more than a small car today.

We headed back downstairs and went over to admire the planes that live outside, all looked worn and as though their lives had taken its toll, but I liked that, restoration is great but seeing them as they had finished their flying days was better.

We were able to look inside one and the space for the crew was tiny, how on earth did grown men fit into them I wondered.

Across the grass from them was a Dig for Victory Garden and an Anderson shelter, having taken some pictures, we cut across the path to a small British Airways plane.

Inside was all intact with lots of leg room and tables to be sociable at during the flight, the cockpit was a mass of switches and panels, far to complicated to work out what anything did.

A long shed housed an exhibition on the home front with posters and room sets of how life would have been during the second world war for those not actively fighting for peace.

The final shed was based around the much more recent wars with uniforms and a large glider taking centre stage.

I stopped to admire a large array of parachutes before a plane part caught my eye, it had been signed by many pilots all giving their service numbers.

An Argentine field kitchen looked fresh from the factory but had seen active service in 1982.

With the raining restarting we raced into the museums café which was lovely and looking as though we had arrived in the middle of the war years with its décor, no food on offer other than biscuits but you can’t beat a bikkie and a cuppa which would hopefully keep me going until teatime.