My Life in Ruins

 

Despite being the patron saint of Scotland (his cross is what's depicted on the country's flag), St. Andrew himself never even went to Scotland. Well, at least not when he was alive.

 

Legend has it that St. Andrew's relics were supernaturally brought to St. Andrews from Constantinople during the tenth century by a man named Regulus (nicknamed Rule). However, when you fact check this story, you realize that the only thing regulated about this man was his name. Historically, he could've been a fugitive Irish monk (Harrison Ford should've made that movie) expelled along with St. Columba in the 500s, but it's more likely that the bishop of Hexxam, Acca, brought them back from his Roman tour when he founded a see at St. Andrews in the 700s. What's in a name though? Dates matter more, so locals favor the earliest founding date possible. St. Rule may never have existed, but this church pictured above called St. Rule's Tower does.

 

Regardless of whether the monk it was named after ever existed, St. Rule was too small for future monks, so St. Andrews Cathedral was built in 1158 and was the largest cathedral in Scotland, but not for long. For a building that took over a century to build, it barely stayed intact for more than a hundred years. Part of it blew down in the 1200s, this is Scotland after all. Then there was a fire in the 1300s. However, it wasn't the elements that destroyed it, but the Reformation. After John Knox gave an impassioned sermon the cathedral was "cleansed" and left in the ruins you see today.

 

Ironically, the cathedral probably gets more attention in its dilapidated state than it would've of if left in its full glory. The grounds are now fastidiously manicured and one of the most popular tourist attractions in St. Andrews.

 

The cemetery is almost larger than the cathedral grounds. Yes, more photos of graves on this blog. I swear I'm not that morbid, Scotland just has a lot of cemeteries.

Just in case you were unsure if you were in St. Andrews or not, there's Tommy's tombstone, whose death seems more of a loss for golf than his family.

 

The sea adds the delightful pungent smell of fish, making the cemetery all the more atmospheric.

 

Just down the beach is yet another Reformation victim, St. Andrews Castle. Once the ecclesiastical center of Scotland, it's now left in ruins. Unfortunately, I don't know as much history about this one because I wasn't willing to pay £5 to look at decrepit stone. However, each stone was chipped away in various sieges, culminating in the murder of Cardinal David Beaton by the Protestants. The political treachery, martyrdom, and dramatic scenery would be ripe for a Hollywood action movie.

 

If there's one thing St. Andrews taught me, it's that every stone in Scotland has a story.