The Royal Mile - Edinburgh, United Kingdom
Edinburgh, United Kingdom
After a good night's rest, Mom was feeling well enough to set about the city with us. After procuring Starbucks for her and a Turkish coffee for me, the four of us headed in the direction of Edinburgh Castle. The day prior we had debated purchasing the very affordable 3 day bus pass, but at this point hadn't yet. While my mom and sister were quite tired with walking by this point, we strolled on as Rufio and I are accustomed to doing. We would spend the next 24 hours exploring the city by foot, admiring every Gothic relic along the way.
Only a few short minutes after leaving the flat we found ourselves wandering down a bustling High Street in the direction of the castle. We paused for closer look at St. Gile's Cathedral and the onlooking John Knox, then continued on past Lawnmarket into the castle esplanade. The pristine image of the castle was obscured by ongoing construction. The government was already in the process of building the grandstands for the infamous Military Tatoo in August. As we approached the castle, drops of rain inevitably started to fall from the grey sky. We once again opened our measly umbrellas to no avail. Regardless, we took in the gorgeous vistas from the Argyle Battery. The rain slowed, although the wind did not. We sought refuge in the National War Museum, housed adjacent to the antiquated castle hospital. The memorials throughout the castle to Scotland's military history and her brave soldiers were truly inspiring. Horse enthusiasts ourselves, my family and I particularly enjoyed the memorial to the Calvary and some of their famous equine soldiers. The weather was improving and the time was nearing 1 o'clock. We learned upon arrival the history of the 1 o'clock gun as we saw crowds gathering and a lone soldier readying the canon over the battery wall. Excited, Rufio and I implored the now only half-frozen ladies into the Middle Ward with us. The once bleak sky had broken, with bright blue peaking in behind the gun. At precisely 1:00 pm the gun blasted as it has for over 250 years. Even as we readied for it, the entire crowd gasped at the sound. As the crowd dispersed, we shuffled past the soldier teaching a group of school children about the gun to admire the views from the battery.
We spent another hour or two exploring the war memorials, Great Hall, Royal Palace and crown jewels, Mons Meg, St. Margaret's Chapel and my personal favorite, the Royal Dog Cemetery. As we exited the castle we headed past Ramsay Garden toward Princes Street. The goal for the day was to walk the Royal Mile to eventually find Holyroodhouse Palace. We walked in the general direction, looking for a delectable lunch spot in the meantime. We settled for The Arcade near Old Town, which was appealing to me for its wall o'whisky. The food was good, the server was sweet and amiable, but the whisky selection was superb. I, naturally, ordered "one of the rarest whiskies available". The sweet server had to climb to the top of the wall to get it. I ended up drinking for two, as I convinced my mom to order what I considered a "safe" scotch, Glenlivet. The look on my mom's face after her first taste was priceless. She bravely attempted a second sip before pushing it toward me and politely asking for wine.
After lunch we pressed on, darting in and out of kitschy souvenir shops and swanky woolerys. Throughout the course of the day we amassed a new winter wardrobe for the entire family. The mile walk took us a few hours, thanks to stops at Canongate Kirk, John Knox house and other architecturally interesting nooks along the way. When we finally reached Holyroodhouse we briefly considered purchasing admission before tours closed for the day. We decided to save the admission fee for another pub crawl that night, considering we had already visited three more impressive palaces. We also planned to climb Arthur's Seat the next morning. Spoiler alert: it never happened.
Since we had reached the end of the Mile, we had no choice but to double back toward Old Town. We had at this point seen a good portion of the city and many of the famed historical sights the town boasts. Since I never found my obscure pet destination in London, I insisted we take this opportunity to find my Edinburgh pet sight. Rufio took the map and led us across town to Greyfriars Kirkyard.
Greyfriars Bobby caught my attention a few months earlier as I was researching Edinburgh, but it wasn't a sight I was going to expend energy to find. My interest was piqued a little more when the in-flight Sky magazine featured famous dogs, and behold Bobby had his own blurb that I read somewhere over Novia Scotia. Then I stumbled upon a piece of trivia that proved we were fated to visit the little terrier, it was John Gray's birthday.
What happens next will live on in infamy for me and Rufio. The weather had again become blustery to say the least, so much so that after we took a picture of the statue my mom had to tuck into Bobby's Bar while we explored the cemetery to prevent worsening her cold. Rufio and I said "Good day" to Bobby, then sauntered a few yards away to wish John a very happy birthday. We noticed several visitors left gifts for the tenacious terrier, so as we walked back I suggested we leave him something too. I searched my purse, deciding to leave him an American penny. Rufio then found a perfect token in his backpack: a Ft. Pierce Police Department keychain. Not only did it represent my family's home, but it was also homage to Bobby and John's profession. I swear upon our lives when we placed the gifts on the headstone the winds calmed, the rain stopped and by God sun shone through the clouds like a beacon. As our luck would have it, Jessica had left to join Mom in the bar minutes before, so no one else can substantiate our story. Only we will know what happened that Gray day. Happy birthday, John.
We bounded into the bar to rattling off our story, and despite the obviously clear sky apparent through the window, Mom and Jessica just nodded skeptically and sipped their drinks. We joined in with pints and planned the remainder of the evening. On the walk in, I made a fateful mistake in mentioning the bar next door was Frankenstein's Monster themed. Rufio's face lit, "You think they have the monster?". I was sure they did, and I was sure we were all going to see for ourselves later. Rufio placed Frankenstein Pub in the number one slot for the night's festivities. We left Bobby's Bar for the flat to regroup and ready for the evening.
To make the child in Rufio happy, we returned to Frankenstein for a drink. The bar was empty except one theme party pub crawl tour. Despite its campy decor, the bar actually had a great deal of potential to be a good party spot, provided it wasn't Monday night. After a picture with the Monster we directed our attentions to the Grass Market. This decision proved successful as we unintentionally found ourselves sipping Bunnahabhain 12 and Laphroaig in Edinburgh's oldest pub, the White Hart Inn and Pub.
After a few drinks my mom, still not recovered from her cold, was ready to retire, so we walked her back to the flat. We had snacked on bread and biscuits earlier, but no one had eaten a real meal since The Arcade, so true to his nature Rufio was starving. He decided one last doner kebab was in order before we returned to doner barren Atlanta. I tagged along with him for a final stroll through Edinburgh. As we walked along, he lamented not visiting the Royal Oak, a pub tucked away just off our main road. There was some time before last call, so I suggested we sneak in for a final pint together. It would prove to be our favorite moment of the entire trip. The pub consists of a public house on the street level and a lounge on the lower level. We entered the foyer to see the public house choked with bodies. Instead of a raucous party as one would expect, we heard nothing but the soft crooning of a man singing a folk song. We thought there was no possible way to squeeze in, so we descended the steps to check the lounge bar. The lounge was closed, so as we approached the top of the stairs Rufio looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and shot me a determined look. Better take a deep breath, I thought to myself, we're diving in.
We opened the door slowly and tried to look as unassuming as possible. One by one we delicately brushed past a sea of locals until we found one lone standing spot, fortunately near the bar. The ambiance in the room was one which I had never witnessed before, and may never again. Every patron in the room, beer in hand, was entranced by the hefty, bearded man singing a ballad from antiquity. During the refrain the patrons joined in softly. Camaraderie and national pride were tangible in the room. As the troubadour concluded, the crowd clapped politely.
With that other members of the band joined in for a string of light hearted songs, including one deriding Bob Dylan. Though we were smitten with the place, Rufio and I decided not to overstay our welcome, especially since we were clearly the only patrons who didn't live within a mile. We gave the bartender a polite smile and thanks before quietly exiting. The two of us bounded down the road, recounting our precious moments immersed in Scottish culture.
Rufio bought his extra spicy, extra tzatziki doner kebab and we finally returned to the flat.
Edinburgh Castle
Greyfriars Bobby
The Royal Oak