Edinburgh

Edinburgh

Mission accomplished!.  We have returned the hire car despite the GPS giving up the task just around the corner from the depot. Meeting a hire car deadline in an unfamiliar city is one of life's more uncomfortable crisis.  Thankfully our hotel had advised us to look for the multi-storey carpark just past Waverley Station.

Our trip from Pitlochry was memorable following our determination to take any road but the A9.  The minor road leading us over the high passes of Perthshire took us by breathtaking scenery and past a laird's pheasant shoot at Grandtully complete with beaters.  Penny asked for a photo to be taken of her at the Crieff town sign because she knows Crieff is significant to her family.  She just doesn't know why.  As is traditional, we stopped for more coffee and cake at the Waterford Crystal shop where we feared the car would be swallowed by deep, still potholes.

We visited Stirling Castle on one of the few inclement days we have experienced.  It was cold, windy and magnificent up on the summit overlooking Stirling and the battlegrounds that determined Scotland's history.  After a slight detour, that included another potholed suburban wasteland, we exited the city for Edinburgh.  Our side trip to Dunfermline was disappointing as we were unable to locate the street in which Penny's grandparents had lived prior to emigrating to Australia.

The hire car behind us, we bypassed Edinburgh's thousand steps to The Royal Mile and ducked into the second pub, The Malt Shovel on Cockburn Street, for a refresher or two.  A street blackboard promoting another Edinburgh pub crawl had the following request: "Dear Americans, While in Edinburgh, please refrain from saying Sp**k or Fanny and try not to pronounce Cockburn Street."  Our barmaid Elspeth has informed me that citizens of Edinburgh are called Edinburgers.  She also said she used to work at Mooseheads!.

No trip to Scotland is complete without plenty of haggis, neeps and tatties (haggis, mashed turnips and potatoes).  After all, you need a solid foundation if you are intent on sampling every single malt known to man.  Above our table a sign read "There are 2 things a Highlander likes naked, and one is malt whiskey!."  I have found however, that the odd whiskey may require dilution eg Oban, with it's hint of the sea requires a rock or two.  Dalwhinney, on the other hand is "roon" if it should come into contact with H2O.

It might appear to be a cliche but no one with Scots roots can fail to be moved by the skirl of bagpipes.  Yes, it's the equivalent of street magicians, and they're there to make money from passersby, but the sight and sound of a piper in full clan kit complete with dirk got my burn water running.  Young Angus in a blue McEwan kilt stood in a prominent spot on Edinburgh's Royal Mile and blew up a storm.  His only competition for the tourist penny was from the most blatant beggar we have encountered who sat directly next to the Bank of Scotland ATM!

As arranged, Kim and Penny were sitting outside Briddie Maloney's at a corner on Grassmarket enjoying a refresher and a performance from a talented busker.  Despite amplification, his voice was soon inaudible due to the Irish girls who had come to Edinburgh for a raucous hen's night.  The bride, who wore a blow up horse, ran round and round the bar accompanied by her girlfriends who sported blinking jockey caps. Their escapades were encouraged by the boys in the bar and ignored by the bouncer who had seen far worse.  Time would tell.