Our sixth annual seriously silly celebration of the Ploughman Poet, Robert Burns.
When January threatens to overwhelm you, come push against the darkness. Find a bit of courage in fine whisky, pen an ode to an unlikely muse, hurl a haggis into the winter night, and welcome the Highland feast with your best (and most questionable) Scottish accent. Hilarity will ensue.
What the hell is Haggis, you ask? It’s liver, tongue and other unmentionable bits together with Scottish oats, onions, stock and herbs all cooked together into “the great chieftain o’ the pudding race.” Put away your mocking thoughts, and know that this is one delicious bit of pie. And, in deference to those who think it is truly terrifying, we will offer a civilized haggis to taste alongside Chef Christian’s superb takes on much more accessible Scots carnivorous and vegetarian fare….
About the Imaginarium Series
Step sideways into another world. Here, imagination has gravity. The ordinary tilts just enough to let the marvelous through. Each Imaginarium gathering is a living moment in our new expanding universe of SpillianQuest: intimate circles of up to 20 co-conspirators who weave the reveling together.. With extraordinary chef-made feasts, fires and candlelight, and an enchanted historic estate.
And each is its own quest: a small act of rebellion against the rush of the everyday, a chance to revel in the delight of co-creation. And somehow, in that shared play, something genuine takes root: connection, belonging, a touch of wonder. Come as you are and let’s play together.
SpillianQuest: reveling fuel for people yearning to make meaning.
A mycelial web of tools, toys, treats, adventures & boon companions.
A handcrafted overnight adventure.
What’s Included
- Programming, materials, and festivities for two people
- The Haggis Games: contests, making, and co-created mayhem
- Afternoon refreshments with house-made Spillian treats
- A full Burns Supper for two, with carnivore and vegivore options
- Kilts available to borrow for those feeling bold
- Live music from our favorite bagpiper
- Overnight lodging for two in one of Spillian’s eight rooms
- Sunday morning breakfast for two, featuring our famous bagels
- Wine, local beers, and cocktails (including the Spillian Highland!) available for purchase
- From our kitchen: A complimentary tin of Cat’s Love Tea and packet of Bliss Crisps to fuel your next quest
- A chance to join the League of Spillian Revelers
When
- Arrive at noon or so on Saturday and settle in by the fire
- The Haggis Games begin at 1 PM
- We’ll say farewell at 11 AM on Sunday
A quest awaits before you arrive. Details when you book.
Advance registration required. Small gatherings can fill quickly.
What We’ll Do Together
The Haggis Games
A Scots Dialect Lesson. Och, aye… Land in the language of Burns and explore your talent for accents and/or a touch of moxie. Click here for a list of Robert Burns poems you can practice on.
An Ode to an Ode. A guided chance to release your inner poet and create an ode to that which you love, to share at the dinner table with your fellow celebrants and competitors. Fear not! Even if your inner poet is shy; sublime or absurd, we’ll help you get to full-on poet status for the evening.
Rad Plaid Pads. Invent your own plaid as you weave your own hot pad holder. (Crafts for grownups!)
The Haggis Toss. Wing a specially-made mini haggis into the night and onto the frozen pond. A hotly fought contest every year, and the winner gets a Spillian Highland cocktail.
The Burns Supper
A family style feast around our extraordinary mahogany dining table, all dressed for the occasion. This table is a true place of convivium, where tales are topped, ideas are birthed, and friendships created. Called by the pipes, together we’ll address the Haggis, share toasts and odes both great and terrible, and feast. Try a bit of haggis if you dare…
The Dignity-Free Finale
The final round of Haggis Games contests, including the memorable Bonniest Knees Contest for our kilt-wearers (bribes will be encouraged), awards, and a rousing last chorus of Auld Lang Syne with the Spillian Auld Lang Syne Orchestra. Kazoos await; only the smallest modicum of musical talent required…bravado counts. (And those of you who actually play instruments, feel free to bring yours and help guide the cacophony.)
Dream of the Highlands
Swap stories with new companions as the fire dies down, and then dream one of our eight splendidly whimsical rooms: The Secret Garden, The Scheherazade, The Lotus, The Camelot, The Jules Verne, The Klimt, The William Morris, or the Four Seasons.
A Breakfast to Close the Circle
On Sunday morning, featuring our famous house-made bagels and apple turnovers.
Why We Gather
To shake off the flatness of midwinter.
January can feel endless — the nights are endless, the bills are due, and the air tastes of slush and obligation. We need a sanctioned bit of wildness to wake our spirits back up.
To belong through laughter.
This is one of the rare nights where everyone gets to make a glorious fool of themselves together. There’s no audience and no stage — just shared hilarity, which melts away the cold.
To taste abundance in the leanest month.
Midwinter feasts go back millennia; they say, we have enough, and we are enough. Good whisky, candlelight on silver, the mingling scents of woodsmoke and dinner — reminding our whole bodies that we can still celebrate.
To honor the rebel poet.
Robert Burns came from almost nothing — a farmer’s son with a pen — and became a voice for those too often unheard. His wit and fire still speak across centuries: beauty and defiance can share the same line of verse.
To create together.
Unlike typical Burns nights calcified into fixed toasts and droning recitations, this one is alive. A jazz riff with a Scottish burr. We are all celebrated co-creators, never spectators.
To remembering joy.
This gathering tradition started after Robert Burns died young. A year after his death, his friends gathered and read Ode to the Mighty Haggis as they feasted on the poorest of peasant’s food, finding his fire and irreverence and slaking their sadness with laughter. Auld Lang Syne can feel like a cliché — until you sing it for the man who wrote it, and for the friends who remembered him, and you, too, begin to laugh.
