Edinburgh, Scotland

 

Edinburgh as seen looking east from the castle towards Arthur's Seat.

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Arthur’s Seat is a volcanic mound rising above the east end of the Royal Mile, the busy heart of Edinburgh tourism. On our second full day in town, we walked upwards through thick fog to the top and imagined the view if one could see more than a few feet into the grayness. On the descent, a substantial Scottish man slogging upwards with his family announced to his wife in a thick (to us) accent, “I could be drinkin’ in the pub, but instead I’m up here with you in the mist.” 

 

I’m not a patient city tourist. It’s not that I don’t like what cities offer, but after a few urban walks, however interesting, or museum visits, however engaging, I find myself looking forward to quiet breaks from the crowds and my attention narrowing to the next restaurant choice. But cities have their charms, and we easily filled a couple of days in Edinburgh before heading out to the Isle of Skye and the Highlands. 

 

To be fair, Edinburgh is a great city—it’s chocked full of historical buildings, the restaurant scene is lively and diverse, people are friendly and polite despite all the tourists, transportation is easy, and there is no end of things to do, including festivals, museums, tours, hikes, and drinking. We jumped in with both feet—walking up and down the Royal Mile, visiting the castle, hiking up Arthur’s Seat, eating good Indian food—before driving out of Leith on the “wrong” side of the road in our Eurocar rental. There's much more to embrace in Edinburgh than its tourist hub for those with more city energy than I have, but we were excited head north. 

Once on Skye, we were happy to be walking “in the mist,” safe in the knowledge that even in the windswept wildness of the Hebrides, a warm pub was never far away.

A bagpipe busker on the Royal Mile. When you walk out of Waverly station, tired from 24 hours of travel, the pipers, out to earn a pound or two, make it clear that you aren't in Southern New Mexico anymore.

Stained glass in Tron Kirk, a former parish church that has been converted into a craft market.

On our arrival in Edinburgh, we sat in a small square behind Tron Kirk waiting for check-in time at our Airbnb so that we could go to sleep. I thought this guy looked sketchy, but soon young women and their mothers were chatting amiably with him about his dog, eroding my American distrust of strangers.

A street parallel to the Royal Mile.

An old sign from the days before tourism at the entrance to a "close" (side alley used to access residences) off of the Royal Mile.

A detail in the ornate ceiling of St. Giles Cathedral. St. Giles is the patron saint of lepers and was also popular in medieval Scotland. 

A cathedral in the mist.

A "wynd" (winding side street) off of the Royal Mile.

Headstones at the Cannongate Kirkyard date to 1600s. We stopped here to explore on our way to Arthur's Seat, and I was surprised to stumble upon the grave of Adam Smith, the famous economist.

In another close, a poster reproduced descriptive passages from a reference book published in the 1700s by James Tytler called "Ranger's Impartial List of the Ladies of Pleasure in Edinburgh".

Ellen in the mist on our way down from Arthur's Seat.

A ruin above Holyrood on Arthur's Seat.