Southeast of Holyrood Palace is Holyrood park, home to Arthur's Seat. Arthur's Seat is the name of a large landmass consisting of hills of varying heights, part of a pre-historic volcano, as is the land that venerates Edinburgh Castle. This ground is speculated to be one of the possible sites of Camelot. From across town it doesn't look like much and in my head I thought, it's a hill within the limits of a city, it can't be that big. Although I brought my hiking shoes, vanity (insanity?) prevailed and instead I chose to wear my chucks. This was my first mistake.
From our apartment we had to walk clear across town to the sacred ground. But on the way we stopped off to view Holyrood Palace from the outside before finally making our way to Arthur's Seat.
Figuring said landmass would be clearly marked with walking paths and entrance signs, we opted against researching how best to reach the pinnacle. Following the slow but stream of people headed from town uphill, we began our ascent. About a half hour, 45 minutes later we began a descent as Arthur's Seat began to come into view. See, there's a crag obscuring the real edifice from nearby onlookers and the best way to traverse the thing is to walk AROUND the first hill and then go up the main one so you don't waste a bunch of energy on nothing. This is the first side.
Guidebooks and travel reviews alike rave about the beautiful views from the top. I wouldn't know because after trekking halfway up the steep rock face I petered out. No, I hadn't started drinking yet... or had I? I can't remember, but it IS Scotland after all so given my shady memories and natural tendencies to drink I suppose I'll have to err on the side of booze.
Oh, and did I forget to mention that on the walk there my child took the term "full honey badger" to new levels? He decided he didn't want to sit in his stroller (what sort of idiot takes a stroller to go hiking?) and flipped the F out, throwing himself nearly out of the damned thing and toppling it over before we let him out and he flung himself dramatically to the ground and proceeded to wail inconsolably in front of a small group of tourists.
Once there our friend make it to the top while carrying HB on his back and the stroller in his hand.Why? because he's crazy like that and what else would make the perfect juxtaposition to my poor choices and lack of muscle tone than him hiking up and back while I huff and puff and curse my poor husband who could have made it to the top but did the right thing and coddled me. But my husband did coddle me so I guess I could say that was the highlight?
I made it high enough to take these photos, about halfway.
Also on the fail list for this trip was our visit to Edinburgh Castle. The castle itself is amazing and beautiful and spectacular. We just chose to go there without planning our time accordingly. We viewed the military museum, crown jewels and apartments before HB started melting down for nap time. "We will just head back to the apartment or nap and then come back," we said. And we did that but, although it's not printed on the nearly $50 set of tickets we purchased, there is no re-entry into the castle. Saving it for next time maybe??
We stood in this line to see the Scottish crown jewels. Aaaaaaand it was underwhelming. I suppose if they'd had better jewels they could have afforded to outfit the Jacobites with enough weaponry to defeat the English at Culloden. But they didn't and now it's all British.
Inside one of the apartments.
This concludes the obligatory failure part of the trip. Now on to better things....
Edinburgh, even at high tourist season, was not too crowded. Oh, a random military band parade? Don't mind if we do!
And check out these fine lads. They took street performing to an epic level, and they were pretty good, too.
One of the coolest things, at least we thought after paying an arm and a leg to enter castles here and museums in Italy, is that all of the art museums are FREE-99. Boo-ya! And how cool is it that one of the first paintings we saw in the Scottish National Gallery was one of Niagara Falls.
What's that? Oh, it's a random DaVinci you could basically just walk up and lick if you wanted to. This room did not have a docent. Not gonna lie, I thought about it.
This painting apparently tells the real life story of Saint Nicholas. I wonder why these images aren't part of the usual Christmas propaganda we usually see in December. The good ole story of St. Nick and three naked boys in a tub...
But by far the best part of our trip was our reason for going, the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo. Tattoo is a Scottish word for a pipe and drum performance. Each year throughout the month of August there is a tattoo outside Edinburgh castle. The tickets itself were relatively cheap, especially compared to the high price of admissions to the local castles but the show is quite popular. Our tickets were purchased just after the New Year and we still were limited to the top part of the stadium.
While we were waiting for the show to start I apologized profusely for our "bad seats" but honestly they were not bad at all. The sun was still setting and while the crowd in front of us was blinded by the sinking object, we were not. Bagpipes are also, as one would expect, unreasonably loud. Having HB with us whilst simultaneously valuing my eardrums I am thankful our seats were not at the bottom or we surely would not have enjoyed it as much as we did. The lofty vantage point also gave us the opportunity to see the large formations where a ground level seat would have prevented that.
The Tattoo was the reason we came, Zack's dream vacation experience so when these guys came out, I'm not going to lie, I cried a little bit. Happy tears, of course, just to see Zack so happy and to know I made it happen. Those bagpipes spear you right to your soul, cuz them shits are loud! Holy crap.
Look at all those poor saps having their retinas burned out.
Behind the flags is the peak of Arthur's Seat.
It was just so freaking cool.
Somehow I couldn't help but just be a little bit sad to see the British flag flying here. Reading a fictional story about the people of Scotland has created this odd sense of kinship with the country. Thanks a lot, Diana Gabaldon.
Marching bands came from many of Britain's territories.
Present day military forces were honored and represented as well.
You might have noticed the progression of the sky in the photos. First, blue sky, then a bit cloudy. We had a five minute sprinkle followed by a rainbow.
Followed immediately by a full moon rising in the pastel sky.
HB loved the entire performance. In fact, at just shy of two years old this little guy up way past his bedtime was captivated. He smiled and cheered and danced. It was amazing; a trip we will never forget.
And now that I've finally blogged about it nine months later I have ensured my feeble elderly mind will be able to recall at least these parts of the trip.
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