Day 19: Edinburgh

We did not arise from our slumber until 9am, when the phone alarm went off. I was annoyed by how late we woke, but I felt well rested. After breakfast we somehow managed to trot out into cool Edinburgh. The sky was overcast, but the forecast promised we would be fine until the afternoon.

We began our trek through the Grassmarket area, the castle looming overhead and positioning itself as the master of Old Town. It is always fun to figure out which level we need to be on and which bridge we need to get to the other side of the city.

There were some tourists about but we seemed to escape most of them as we walked down to Calton Hill - and then up it! Calton Hill seemed so small in the dull morning light - when last I had been there for the Beltane Fire Festival, darkness had erased all boundaries. It was also confusing to see the true placement of the structures and monuments - they seemed to have been strewn dizzily around during Beltane, but now the area seemed less surreal and vaguely boring.

I was also annoyed with the number of tourists walking about and lingering at places of interest, ruining my photos. Two were hogging the National Monument of Scotland; these women posed between the columns for a good long while, making their long suffering friend circle the monument to take photos from different angles. Their antics infuriated this photographer - ah, but the views of the gorgeous Salisbury Crags were worth it.

Edinburgh: possibly the most picturesque city in the world

We found a shortcut down to Holyrood Palace. The building is grand, but it is literally overshadowed by the immense volcanic creation rising above it. Well, it was not shadowed when we arrived. My fiancé had not been there before so we eschewed audio guides and I filled the role instead. I pointed out the paintings with slashes whenever I saw them, explaining how they had been mangled then restored.

One particular small painting in Mary, Queen of Scots’ bedchamber looked like it had been literally hacked. The floors in this oldest section were easy to spot - or hear, rather. The snap, crackle, creak stalked us all the way around that side of the palace. I saw something I had not noticed last time - the place that marked where the body of David Rizzo had been dragged after he was murdered centuries ago.

Perhaps it was the suggestion of a corpse or wishful thinking, but it seemed to me that the wooden flooring here were a deeper brown than any other part of the floor. It even had a red tinge. Then again, the colour of wood varied greatly throughout the palace…

We exited to take in the ruins of Holyrood Abbey which sadly were less brilliant beneath clouds than the blue skies of two years ago - and they were filled with summer tourists. The gardens were lovely. I managed to buy another card holder from the gift shop, though not the same as my beloved one which is currently falling apart.

A statue passes the time in the gardens.

After using the bathrooms, we stood beneath the crags, planning our ascent. Thankfully, my must-see destination (the ruins of St Anthony’s Chapel) was easily visible and much lower. It was still an uphill climb, though we abandoned the more adventurous route which was fenced off. Rocks warred with the gravel and dirt that cut a path through green, green grass.

There wasn’t much left of the chapel - it mustn’t have been big to start with. Though once repaired in the early 15th century, it is certainly beyond repair now. It was sheltered beneath a wall of rock though my fiancé said it would be easy to attack from there. I thought it was a good place for a chapel - close to God, but not too close. A beautiful spot with a more modern loch beneath it.

You too can fit the castle, the chapel ruins and Calton Hill in just one photo!

We followed a stretch of grass that had been walked on too many times to grow enough of anything else. This led us up to the top of the crags where we decided that too much effort was required to reach Arthur’s Seat (the tiny pinpricks up there made it look crowded!). We did not go too far, but enough to see the castle (usually so large, but now so miniature and distant - had we really walked so far?).

We retreated back down, picking our way over rocks and dirt, to Holyrood Palace. We waltzed up the Royal Mile, buying souvenirs, and then disaster struck. On a side road towards our hotel - MAISON DE MOGGY. This was a shop where you could go in and pay to pat cats! Beautiful kitties were separated from me by glass.

“Please, please!” I cried but my fiancé reminded me that we needed lunch.

Once our bags deposited, we enjoyed a meal at the Hard Rock Cafe using a shortcut through the Princes Street Gardens. The food there is better than the ones in Sydney and New York!! Home again. Dinner in. Thank goodness.

Tomorrow - Glasgow!

Day 21: Edinburgh

I woke up feeling slightly better but managed to freak out over the bathroom lock. Naked and bruised, I located my towel and re-entered the bathroom, deciding not to lock the door. I will not be trapped again!

I washed my hair in the difficult shower and had breakfast. Cazy and I left a little before 9am and made it on foot to our hop on/hop off bus stand fifteen minutes early. While I took photos of a statue of David Livingstone, Cazy investigated Waverly station.

"Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"

Our bright pink red City Sightseeing bus turned up and we sat in the open area on the top deck. The audio tour was very well timed (perhaps spurred on by a GPS system?) and initial traffic made it easy to photograph sites without fear of blurred images. We departed the bus at Edinburgh Castle (we could have walked there from the hotel!) and were amazed at the mammoth size of it as we approached.

Edinburgh Castle from below.

Once inside, the audio tour took us around. The castle is built on a huge volcanic rock. We climbed the Lang Steps to the top level and it was incredibly windy. We didn’t bother with the War Memorial (a snobby decision - it wasn’t old enough to interest us!) and focused on David’s Tower, Scotland’s Royal Honours (crown, sword and the Stone of Destiny which is often featured in fiction) and the room where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to the first king of Britain. Many things are fragile in that area - flash photography is disallowed.

A commanding view of Edinburgh.

We had to race from the Honours (miraculously kept from Oliver Cromwell and found in a locked chest in the 19th century - people had been worried that the Honours were lost) to see a musket demonstration. It was loud and smelly. The heavens began to spit rain at us so I attempted to open my umbrella - this was a mistake. The wind nearly blew me away Mary Poppins style - and at that moment, the musket fired. What a fright! We hid in the toilets for five minutes until the sun re-emerged.

The musket demonstration two minutes before a downpour.

We roamed through the Foog Gate (this was after seeing Mons Meg, a 500-year-old canon that was extremely popular with children and cameras) then peered at a few “newer” buildings (19th century hospital, etc) and adjourned to the cafe. Once done there, we watched the bigger gun firing at one o’clock before spending far too much at the gift shop (I may or may not be the owner of a 100% cashmere tartan scarf).

We located the bus stop and were picked up shortly thereafter. The tour entertained us until Holyrood Palace which is impressive but overshadowed by the immense crags behind it. It’s a humble-looking royal residence and I was delighted to recognise parts of the grounds from the Time Team special which featured Neil Oliver.

A palace fit for queens of past and present.

The palace's paintings are well looked after (despite being slashed two centuries ago) but the tapestries are faded and dull. Audio guides led us through the rooms where photography was not allowed. We saw the dining room (the queen has sat at that table!) and the cushy chairs made for her grandparents in the throne room.

I liked seeing where Mary Queen of Scots and her husband lived. This was in the oldest part of the palace (noticeable from the outside by the rougher stones) and the floorboards creaked and snapped so consistently I had to pause the audio tour during the worst spells. The wood smelled more in this “unlived” area of the palace.

Holyrood Abbey: chunkier than Whitby Abbey.

Afterwards, we studied the ruins of Holyrood Abbey and I geeked out over the lump in the grass outside because Time Team excavated it on the behest of Elizabeth II who used to play on that little hill. The archaeologists found a seal for letters buried within. The audio tour doesn’t tell you that!

See, I didn't make it up!

Again, I bought too much stuff and was relieved that we were leaving because huge tour groups were starting to turn up. Back on the bus we went (a two minute wait!) and we were conveyed back to Waverley Bridge station via Dynamic Earth (no one departed or boarded the bus at that stop!) and some awing views of Holyrood Park.

Upon arriving "home", I discovered I definitely killed the washing machine but the lovely people at the hotel washed and dried our clothes. I love it here!!!

I made pasta…and I'm currently watching Broadchurch on ITV player (a treat that I will have to give up once my IP address lands me firmly in Australia).

Ciao!