Since A/D/S/O missed the first few days, they never got to see Edinburgh. So today we took the train downtown - which is far more pleasant than driving. Faster by half, cheap enough (£9 round trip) and overall less hassle. You get to chat, admire the old manses and byres passing by, and there are zero worries I might miss a turn (which I now realize is a luxury shared by the conductor...)
We hopped off at Edingburgh's hub, hiked up to the Royal Mile (again), and then past our old BNB to the castle atop the hill! Two observations: First, this ascent is so much easier than it was before the last two weeks hiking uphill. Second: the castle looks far better without all the structural steel from the tattoo around it. It's not quite all gone, but they're working from the castle back, improving the views as quick as they can manage.
A few doors down from our old BNB was Gladstone's Land
The 4th floor is the modern era, and it's a flat on AirBNB. The tour doesn't cover this, but it's so poetic and accurate... The tour officially starts on the third floor, in a 1920s era tenement. They would have lived 2-3 people per room, so this would be your day-laborers or semi-skilled tradesmen. In the 1920s all the money had fled to The New Town, which was newer and cleaner, featuring amenities such as "plumbing", and wasn't in danger of being deemed "unfit for habitation" - a fate which befell this building a decade later in 1934. The hostess was very great - she spoke her piece, and then answered all our questions ranging from the building itself to everything else we'd wondered about the last two weeks.
The second floor was set in the 1740s, right before New Town was built. At the time, this floor was leased by a merchant-draper, so the room was staged as it would have been at that time - bolts of imported cloth, a table for taking tea, samples in various stages of dressmaking... this was the sort of place where you choose a fabric that suits your liking, take some measurements, and whisper about the latest on-dit. Later, you'd send one of your servants to handle the practicalities of payment and transport to your milliner.
Descending to the first floor we entered the 1600s, and met the first tenants to move in after the building was rebuilt. A merchant family let these two rooms, along with the basement. A (bedroom/entertaining room/dining room) opened into the kitchen where the servants slept, while the cellar housed storage and a tavern - where the maid served, swept, and kept the peace. The build included painted walls and ceiling beams - which have survived to this day solely because the style changed and they were all plastered over a few years later, secretly preserving them until the heritage foundation started peeling back the layers.
Tour over and back in the current age, we tried to reconvene with ADSO for lunch, but they were across the tracks at the Walter Scott monument - so we got sausage rolls from the cafe and headed for The Palace of Holyroodhouse. HolyRood [named after a fragment of the True Cross, which those uppity protestants were having none of] is another palace owned by the crown, and the Royal Family stays here one week each summer on their way to Balmoral. My mom really wanted to see it but didn't really care to go in, which was nice because it seems extensive, we'd already walked a fair bit, and none of us are as young as we think.
So instead of walking all around the palace-museum, we started considering King Arthur's Seat - a volcanic hilltop that looks out over the city! But that's also a lot of walking... so instead we hiked up a slightly smaller hill! We passed the art-deco Scottish Governmental Building and wound slowly up Calton Hill until we suddenly emerged from the wood to a view over the city and the Firth of Forth - all the way to North Berkshire. We could clearly see the Law (which is the official name for the volcanic plug A/D ran up yesterday) and Bass Rock (the bird sanctuary I keep posting pictures of). Finishing the climb to the peak, there were views over Holyrood and across to Edinburgh Castle at the far end of the Royal Mile. Looking closer we could even pick out various places we'd stopped along it - St Giles, the entry to Diagon Alley, the graves of Adam Smith and Greyfriars Bobby.
At the very top of the hill we entered an acropolis, built in the finest Scottish tradition: started bold, but given up half done and utterly skint. Which is way better than a finished Parthenon, as it's just some enormous steps and a few columns perched over the city. I found a chink that let me scale it after a few tries, gave my dad a hand, and then we pulled up a few randos (as you do). The perspective wasn't any better than it was from the brow nearby, but framing the view in ruins gave it a certain gravitas it lacked before. I'm a sucker for ancient stones, even if they're fake.
Edinburgh conquered, we limped down to the train station and rode back to North Berkshire. (As an aside, the town names here all sound fake. Here, I'll give you the name of the stops on our route, and you tell me which one I made up: Drem, Longniddry, Prestonpans, Wallyford, Musselburgh, Brunstane.)*
Back home, we hiked the final mile back to our place, with short stops at the coop (for snacks to take home), and the old kirk. We'd been curious about this skeletal church near the center of town, and it turns out when the church outgrew this chapel (which took over from the last one that plunged into the sea), they decided to strip it down and leave it as an aesthetic folly, expanding the graveyard around and into the gutted sanctuary.
Finally home, it was time for reading, recovering, and a few chocolate-coated digestive biscuits. After nap-time, we entertained the kids (because we love it) and had a final dinner of sausage and left-overs. One last hurrah for Scottish cuisine, a toast to the our Scottish adventure.
But food has rejuvenated us, and we've got miles in these legs. My dad and I have been scouting trails just south of town... and mom decided to join us! We wandered a nice mile out - examining rocks and seaglass, attempting artistic photos, and enjoying questionable routes across the intertidal strand. At the end of the beach we hiked up the plateau to the overlook for one last cloudy sunset. Final frame captured, we strolled home in the gathering dusk, hopelessly attempting to pick a favorite memory of Scotland.
*(those are all actual towns)
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