My siblings can always be counted on for “a good blether,” a chat filled with laughs. So I knew that leading them all over — on our own ambitious, weeklong, multi-city tour to reconnect with our family roots — would be easy fun. Even though we are fourth-generation Canadians from Manitoba, with no known relatives in Scotland to visit, we were excited to learn more about our heritage in a place dense with history.
As the most well-travelled, I became the tour guide by default for our group of seven, which included my partner, Tim; my brother, Brad, and his wife, Heather; my sisters, Ann and Pat; and Pat’s husband, Eugene. The last time we travelled together was on a 20 years ago. My siblings are snowbirds who winter in the U.
S., but they haven’t travelled to much, and this was my sisters’ first visit to the U.K.
In the lead-up to the trip, I couldn’t help but worry over the “what ifs,” envisioning all manner of travel mishaps — one of us tumbling down the rocky moors, say, or getting pickpocketed, lost or ill. We are not the healthiest bunch, ranging in age from 57 to 75. Writer Doug Wallace (far right) with his siblings, Brad, Pat and Ann, at the National Wallace Monument.
When my siblings arrived in Scotland a couple of days before I did, our WhatsApp group chat was a flurry of questions that didn’t put my mind at ease: “Did you see Pat get on the train?” “I think I can see Eugene’s hat ...
” Only later did I learn that my siblings were merel.