Arriving in a place after an absence of, oh, 25 years, can be disorienting. Doing so at night even more so and our little sojourn to the take out fish and chips place the evening before made us want to get our perspectives straightened out.
When daylight made its presence felt, defined in Scotland as a murky, gloomy, hazy, dim luminosity, we set out. One would think that having the Edinburgh Castle as a milepost which can be seen for miles would help but we struggled with directions as there was no sun to guide us and we couldn’t figure out which way to hold the map. So we surely looked like a couple of lost souls masquerading as hayseeds.
So instead we decided to stop for breakfast at this lively place. This was a small place near one of the main drags of the city and it was packed with Scots. Some appeared to be friends just catching up with one another mid-morning; some business meetings; one weird collection of a formally dressed family meeting for the first time apparently.
One thing they all had in common? The Scots are animated, lively and loud in their conversations.
And then we pressed on to the castle.
Where we saw this cute car. As it was parked on the huge lot in front of the castle we presumed its owner, while probably not the Queen, was associated with the enterprise.
And, yes, the castle is imposing, imbued with a rich and bloody history. But we were intrigued with the plethora and diversity of visitors--every age, language, ethnicity, seemed to be represented.
And the views, oh the views!
And tour groups were everywhere. There is one down by the phone booths. Phone booths? How quaint!
We strolled down the Royal Mile, stopping to tickle David Hume's big toe. He remained unamused.
We sauntered further down the Royal Mile, stumbling in to a lunch spot called Whiski.
As this pic was purloined from their website our visit did not include a Scottish band, however, we sat next to a couple of Bostonian entrepreneurs who were finalizing a Board of Directors for an invention of theirs that, get this, is a hand-held device that can detect molecular changes in the body. One of them lost a sister to ovarian cancer, which gave birth to this idea.
While they were on business, they were not immune to the pleasures of Scotland, namely haggis.
And their research led them to Whiski because it was reputed to be the best place for this delicacy. After tasting it, they kept exclaiming, "It tastes just like Bob Evans sausage" no doubt making the proprietors cringe.
Our bellies full, we schlepped out way back 'home.' And promptly fell asleep. While we did not encounter anything Bjork-related, Pith had this nagging feeling that we were getting closer to this dream.
Next: A Memorable Anniversary
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