on the bonny, bonny banks of...Princes Street Gardens
Edinburgh is full of win. This, I must say, was my favorite stop (excluding London from all rating systems since...well, it's London). I found Edinburgh to be interesting and really lovely. My first stop after arriving at Waverly Station was the Tourist Information Center to grab a map and get directions to the YHA. Ok. Actually, my first stop ended up being waylaid to a Victoria Jackson makeup promo table in the shopping center that I ended up traipsing through because the tourist info sign was misleading. After I brushed that off to the disappointment of the lovely girl trying to sell me £120 of makeup products for the unbelievable special deal of £30, (It really was a great deal, but I couldn't see spending £30 on makeup right then.) I made it to the Info Center, enjoyed some random Scottish piping and dancing, and withdrew money from the nearby ATM. At this point, I learned something very interesting: in Scotland, each bank prints their own notes; therefore, you could any combination of very different looking notes because they are issued by different banks. Let me tell you, it gave me a second's panic when I was standing in line and realized the £5 note the guy in front of me was holding was completely different from the one I was holding. It also made receiving change fun, though, as I got to look and see the different designs and banks. Very strange experience, that. Well, I checked into the YHA, dumped Superduffle, and proceeded to explore. I meandered through Princes Street Garden for awhile, which was lovely. It wasn't always so lovely, though. Before there was Princes Street Garden, there was
Nor Loch. Nor Loch had become basically a cesspool thanks to centuries of sewage draining down the hill from Old Town, so it was drained. In the 1820s, Princes Street Gardens was built, followed 20 years later by the addition of Waverly Station. The gardens are beautifully manicured and quite peaceful.
I emerged from the Gardens to the plaza containing the National Gallery. I definitely went it. I spent a lovely afternoon making my way through the Gallery. They have a considerable and well-displayed collection; not as much as some other galleries I visited, but just the right amount for a few hours on an afternoon. After this, I had an ice cream (hee hee) and made my way back along the street to Calton Hill. Calton Hill is basically monument central. The most interesting one was the National Monument, largely due to the back story. The monument is a commemoration of those who died fighting in the Napoleonic Wars. Designed by Charles Cockerell and William Henry Playfair (that's not an unfortunate name as a child at all), it was meant to reflect the Parthenon and was projected to cost something like £40,000 in 1822. You can see where this might be going. Oh, it was also supposed to have underground catacombs as well for burying important people. In 1826, they started building even though they only had about £16,000 with maybe another £10,000 coming from Parliament. Three years later, the project was abandoned when they ran out of money. I found this rather hilarious. I took pictures.
Calton Hill also is the home of the Lord Nelson monument, the City Observatory (founded 1776), and super beautiful views of Edinburgh. I was supremely disappointed that I was unable to tour the Observatory. The signs and brochures and my guide book all said that it was possible, but the gate was soundly locked. I was quite interested to see the inside, but alas, was foiled. Finally, I made my way back down the hill, found a grocery and picked up some provisions for dinner and lunch and dinner, and wandered back to the hostel. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.
The next day I began by preparing my provisions and them embarking across the bridge to Old Town. Don't be fooled, the bridge doesn't cross a river (though I suppose it did back in the days of grosstastic Nor Loch), the bridge crosses the extensive train lines to and from Waverly Station (it's a pretty big station). My plan was to start at the top of the Royal Mile with Edinburgh Castle and then work my way down to Palace Holyroodhouse, possibly finishing with a climb up Arthur's Seat. Today, my plan went exactly as it was supposed to.
Edinburgh Castle is quite impressive. The location, of course, is splendid, but the structure itself was definitely built to convey a certain demeanor: don't even dare. I spent several hours exploring various bits of the castle. I had completely forgotten, or perhaps not made the connection, that the castle (as Din Eidyn) is mentioned in Y Gododdin. The oldest part of the currently existent castle is St. Margaret's Chapel, built by David I around AD1130. Most of the other old parts were destroyed and rebuilt over through the years as England and Scotland warred between themselves. Edinburgh Castle houses the National War Monument of Scotland and the National War Museum. And, most significantly, it also houses the "Honors of Scotland:" the crown, the sceptre, and the sword of state. The castle also now holds the Stone of Scone since it was returned to Edinburgh in 1996. Except that it's labelled the "Stone of Destiny." Dumb. Super, touristy dumb. I did not refer to it as such.
Fun fact: the guards at Edinburgh Castle wear hobnail boots. On cobblestones. Thus, when they come off guard duty at the National War Monument, the Sergeant at Arms removes the bayonets from their guns to prevent accidental impaling of fellow officers in the event of slipping. Slipping does happen, it seems, when you combine hobnails and cobblestones.
Following my explorations of Edinburgh Castle, I made my way down the Royal Mile, stopping to take a picture of Boswell's Court (yes, that's the Boswell who wrote the biography of Samuel Johnson) and to explore St. Giles Cathedral. I took a picture inside the Cathedral, then saw the "no pictures" sign. Oh well. I spent some amount of time at the Museum of Childhood (which has a wonderful and diverse collection of toys, games, and other childhood memorabilia) before proceeding on down the road to Palace Holyroodhouse. It was closed to visitors. Boo. Hiss. Since the flag was up and there were signs prohibiting parking for specific dates on the streets surrounding, I presume that some important personage was in residence. Nevertheless, I was sad that I wouldn't be touring the palace. Instead, I opted for climbing Arthur's Seat. I took the steep way, apparently. I'm also not really in climbing up things shape, I discovered. At any rate, after a brief pause at the ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel, I proceeded up all 837 ft. of Arthur's Seat and took a picture. It was really quite phenomenal. The view is just spectacular, really, due largely to the volcanic nature of the formation of Arthur's Seat. Essentially, it's the only thing at that height which gives a completely unimpeded, uncontested view of everything around. Eventually, I made my way down and took my time getting back to the hostel for dinner. I spent a little bit of time talking to a Canadian girl who was in the UK teaching Math. She was spending her term break in Edinburgh. She was moderately odd, actually, but interesting to chat with. Finally, I made my Newcastle plans and headed off to sleep. Even thought it was still pretty much daylight outside. Apparently the sun is only gone for about 4 hours in the summer in the north. haha