Reader Postcard: Doune Castle

"All the kings said I was daft to build the castle on a swamp. But I built it all the same, just to show 'em. It sank into the swamp. So I built a second one. That sank into the swamp. So I built a third one. That burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp. But the fourth one stayed up." - From Monty Python and the Holy Grail

I am wading through said swamp. My name is Justine Pierre. My quest is to find Doune Castle - the set for Monty Python and the Holy Grail. My favourite colour is blue. No. Yellow.

The swamp is a public track which promises to lead me to my grail.

I'm in Doune, 20 minutes southeast of Stirling, Scotland.

In summer, I'm sure it's a lovely riverside trail with the sun peeking through the foliage, rays of light glinting off the water, but I'm here in winter.

I'm ankle deep in muck. It's drizzling, I'm cold and I didn't take into account recent rainfall causing the river to rise over its banks.

I'm walking because I got off the bus at the wrong stop. Wandering around the deserted roads, I saw a sign leading to the castle, but about halfway along it turned into pure mud.

Entry to the castle is not via giant rabbit, rather simply walk through the archway where Sir Galahad was lured to the Castle Anthrax.

No grail-shaped beacons today, just drizzle and scaffolding.

Doune Castle was built in the 14th century for Robert Stewart, Duke of Albany.

It was occupied by Bonnie Prince Charlie and his supporters during the Jacobite Rebellion and during the Battle of Falkirk in 1746 it was used as a prison - although several prisoners escaped by knotting their bedsheets together and climbing out the window.

In 1984 the castle was placed under the care of Historic Scotland.

But I'm here as a Python fan.

Up the steps where Lancelot obliterated an entire wedding party and you're in the Great Hall. Immediately I hear echoes of Camelot and tap-dancing knights.

Up an enclosed stone staircase and it becomes Swamp Castle where Prince Herbert was about to marry the princess with "huge ... tracts of land".

As the rain thickens, I decide to make my retreat - "run away", if you will.

I head down the driveway leading to the village, the rain the only accompaniment to my feet on the cobblestones.

No coconuts here.

- Justine Pierre is a Dunedin music teacher.

Whether you're just back from Timbuktu or Taieri Mouth, we'd be interested to hear.

For a chance to win a Lonely Planet book on the country of your choice, send a 300-400-word article and photographs to odt.features@odt.co.nz or post to Reader Postcard, Travel Editor, PO Box 181, Dunedin.

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