Auld Reekie calls.......

After a couple of days in Loch Lomond we made the short trip across Scotland to the capital. We circled Stirling and its castle and saw our first highland cattle grazing below the castle rock.

Before going into Edinburgh we settled into a nice campsite about 45 minutes away from the city with a bus service every 10 minutes. The weather was gorgeous so we made the most of the city and surrounds while it lasted.

First stop in the city was the Scott Memorial, (just like the one in Dunedin but not as good). There reposes the person who according to Scots was Scotland's greatest ever author - well up to the 19th century anyway. Anyone who has ever read Walter Scott, (i.e. me), probably thinks that he is Scotland's greatest ever bore, a cure for insomnia if ever there was one. Still, he's immortalised here.

Next stop was a band of buskers playing their own songs in a free concert, just above the gardens. They were quite good but I was more taken with their "manager", who was selling their CDs and generally trying to gee up the crowd. He danced to the music as though he was suffering from a strange palsy, but otherwise seemed normal. Didn't buy a CD however.

 

Manager on left with "knock-knees".

The band was performing just next to the National Art Gallery and though art isn't really our thing, we decided to take a look. It was quite a pleasant hour or two though and there was an eclectic mix of local, medieval, renaissance and later art, set out in about 15-16 rooms. Excellent features of the gallery were that you could approach the paintings, touch the frames and sculptures and take photos without being harassed by a security guard.

The two paintings that took our fancy the most, were a self-portrait of Rembrandt, (not sure who the artist was), and a painting of Saint Francis of Assisi, (the animal nutter), receiving his stigmata from laser beams from heaven.

Self-portrait of Rembrandt van Ryn, artist unknown!

 

 

St. Francis being lasered! The bloke on the right doesn't seem too taken by this miraculous event though.

 



We ended the afternoon with a couple of drinks at a local hostelry, followed by a 10 pound Marks and Spencers dinner for 2, that consisted of pasta main, chocolate mousse and a bottle of french wine to accompany. Can't be bad.

Or can it? It wasn't until we had drunk the MS wine, that we noticed the reference to Urine! Perhaps it means something else in French?

 

Marks and Sparks are justifiably proud of their stores and the produce that they use. However, this large advertisement on the wall in the food hall left us wondering!
 

 



The next day we returned to take in the castle and the old town. At the entrance to the castle, they were preparing the grandstands for the Edinburgh Military Tattoo that takes place in the courtyard. Having seen this Tattoo on TV occasionally, I was struck by how small the courtyard is, and the attendant stands.

 

The castle from the courtyard, with a glimpse of the temporary stands on the left.

Iris discovered that the castle motto, "Nemo me impune lacessit", is the same as her own. Loosely translated it says, "Touch me and I breaka your face"! Here's a pic of the two of them together.

Leaving the castle, we strolled down the "Royal Mile" that leads to Holyrood Castle, which is where HRH stays when she's in town. We didn't get that far though, as we stopped at St Giles Cathedral to continue our cross-Europe cathedral comparisons.

 

Saint Giles from the outside, complete with wedding party. Not very inspiring, (the Bride was far better looking than the cathedral).

 



 

From the inside where sufficient light to take a photo was hard to find. It was impossible to use a flash because the church wardens demanded 2 pounds for a permit to take photos, so they had to be sneaked when no-one was looking.

Sorry Edinburgh, but your cathedral is bottom of the list in the European Cathedral Champions League in all respects. It's a squat, ugly, badly lit building, that is festooned with plaques commemorating just about every Scottish regiment that ever went to war for the British Empire.

Every single memorial plaque or board placed great emphasis on the hierarchy of Officers, Non-commissioned Officers and men in that rigid order. The same emphasis was also evident in the various orders of "nobility" that had tombs or memorials in the place.

A statue of John Knox took pride of place amongst the statues though and his statue looked as threatening as he probably did in life.

There was a light hearted touch in this commemorative plaque though!

Just before we left the Royal Mile we happened upon this encouraging pub sign. Fortunately, neither of us are whisky lovers, or we would probably still be in this bar.

A short walk from the royal mile, back into town, took us to Waverley Station, where for a mere Fiver, we got return train tickets from Edinburgh Central to North Queensferry.

Where you might ask? Well, North Queensferry station is immediately after the Forth Railway Bridge, one of the wonders of the Victorian age and still one of the world's exceptional engineering achievements, (imo). It took 8 years to build and was completed in 1890. At approximately 4 kilometers long, was the biggest and longest cantilever bridge ever built at this time.

 The story goes that the rail bridge is being perpetually repainted, and sure enough, there were scaffolds and screens on parts of the bridge that were being painted today.

 

The Forth Road Bridge was completed in 1964 and runs parallel to the rail bridge. Despite the bridge being 75 years younger than the rail bridge, it is already being replaced, (as its suspension cables and other bits are disintegrating). The worst case scenario is for it to be completely unusable by 2020.

The road bridge, (from the rail bridge). The 3 towers in the distance are the pylons for the replacement bridge that is being built. Let's hope this one lasts a bit longer than 50 years.

And that folks was Edinburgh. A very nice city to visit, where the people are friendly and hospitable. No trip to Scotland would be complete without a picture of the transvestite locals though, so here s/he is for my Scottish friends!

Man in a frock, or a woman with a weird hairdo? Ya pays your money and ya takes your choice!
This was a local busker on the royal mile.