Few poets are more beloved than Scotland’s favorite son, Robert Burns. Known as “The Bard,” his prolific works include Auld Lang Syne and A Red, Red Rose. He’s so revered that his birthday, January 25th, sees Scots the world over celebrating with a grand Burns supper. Kilted bagpipers and Burns’ Address to a Haggis serenade the Scottish sausage-like delicacy of haggis, and drams of whisky toast local “lassies.”

As this January 25th marks the 250th anniversary of the birth of Burns (son of a poor Alloway tenant farmer), I wanted to experience the unique culture, rich history and beautiful scenery of Scotland (roughly the size of Maine). What inspired him, and why are so many today still touched by his words?

My trip began in Edinburgh. In 1786, Burns traveled there, published his works and became the toast of the town. He lived on the Royal Mile. One of the city’s oldest streets, it connects Edinburgh Castle, built in 1128, with the royal palace of Holyroodhouse, the Queen’s official Scottish residence. Nearby is Arthur’s Seat, an extinct volcano. It’s astonishing to see such rugged landscape inside a capital city. St Giles’, a Gothic cathedral, and the stone-vaulted Grain Store restaurant, an ideal place for haggis, transports visitors in time.

Many writers including Sir Walter Scott, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, J.M. Barrie, Robert Louis Stevenson and Burns lived or worked in Edinburgh, which was made the first UNESCO City of Literature, evident in its Writers’ Museum, which contains Burns’ writing desk and manuscripts.

During the 1700s, when Edinburgh’s cramped Old Town was overflowing, New Town was built. The city’s wealthier residents moved to its streets lined with fashionable neoclassical Georgian townhouses and beautiful gardens. Robert Adam designed palatial homes on Charlotte Square (number 7 is open to visitors), and a young Stevenson lived on Heriot Row. My hotel, the Salisbury, also dates to this period, albeit now with modern boutique touches, and it was there that I met Jean Blair, a member of the Scottish Tourist Guides Association, who perfectly planned my Homage to Burns.

Off we went. In 1787, the poet took a Highland tour, visiting the Duke of Atholl and penning My Heart’s in the Highlands (“Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, the hills of the Highlands for ever I love…”). Dunkeld, a picturesque Perthshire town on the River Tay, has a ruined 12th-century cathedral and lovely shops and stands opposite the village of Birnam where English writer Beatrix Potter reportedly found inspiration for The Tale of Peter Rabbit. Visit the Hermitage—the duke planted 27 million trees here and in the region, so many that Perthshire is called “Big Tree Country”—a majestic woodland dominated by soaring fir trees. I even spotted a rare, indigenous Red squirrel.

Another charming village, Aberfeldy, inspired Burns’ The Birks of Aberfeldy. There, I loved The Watermill, a converted mill with a bookstore, art gallery and quaint cafe serving delectable bread. Its gigantic windows have stunning views, as does the Queen’s View above Loch Tummel, which seems to extend forever.

After a night at castle-like Atholl Palace Hotel in Pitlochry, I climbed the Cairngorms, Scotland’s highest mountains. On the other side appears the River Dee Valley, its high hillsides a million shades of green punctured by purple heather, golden barley and white sheep. Also pleasing are the area’s Highland cattle, rust-colored creatures with messy hair flopping over eyes, and shaggy goats.

In Braemar, a village of fetching grey granite houses, it’s not uncommon to spot a deer or a Golden eagle on the main street. Meandering through vast valleys and snowy peaks, I reached Balmoral Castle, where the Royal Family vacations. Without much fanfare, the Queen attends services at nearby Crathie Church.

Another beauty of Scotland is that the sea is never very far away, and one of the country’s secret coastal gems is Newburgh, a tiny town on the River Ythan. The lunar-like Forvie nature reserve contains miles of massive sand dunes and Britain’s largest colony of Eider ducks, and the sweet Udny Arms Hotel that overlooks dishes up delicious sticky toffee pudding.

The end of my odyssey was St. Andrews, facing the North Sea. Founded in 1413, the University of St. Andrews is the nation’s oldest, and its cathedral (another one in ruins) was once Scotland’s largest. It’s also the home of golf, the Old Course dating to 1552. Scenes from Chariots of Fire were filmed on West Sands Beach.

To walk off or ingest all that haggis and tongue-twisting poetry, I strolled along gazing at both the sparkling sea and exquisite St. Andrews with its spires and castle tower. I thought of Burn’s Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever, a poem I had learned on my trip—“Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest! Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure!”

This extraordinary wee country—its peace, enjoyment, love and pleasure—will stay with me forever.