

My time in London has been quite the set of experiences thus far. I have enjoyed my time tremendously. For all I expected it to be, it has been much better. The city has been filled with many opportunities to see history, make new friends, and live a life that is otherwise foreign to me. In this weekend's adventures, I went on a tour to Scotland. My train left King's Cross at 6:15am. A mere five hours later, we arrived in Edinburgh, Scotland's capital. Along the way, the changes in scenery were dramatic. From the bustle of London life to the quieter, more pastoral countryside, to the Scottish hills overlooking firths, lochs, and oceans, Great Britain is more diverse than I had imagined.
We were met at the train by a local tour guide, Robin, in traditional kilt. We took a coach for a two-hour tour of the city. All I really wanted to do was eat, not listen to overly-long stories of Scottish heroes and despots. But Robin was truly passionate about Scottish history, and he took great pride in his heritage. Though his stories were unnecessarily long, he was a fantastic storyteller. When he took us to the Palace at Holyrood House, he even played his bagpipes as we walked from and to the coach. It was both cool and corny, but I could expect nothing less in Scotland.
The afternoon found me walking around Edinburgh with a new mate, Andrew, from New Zealand. We went to Edinburgh Castle where the views across the city and the Firth of Forth were beautiful. A quick walk down the Royal Mile (the mile-long stretch that connects the Palace and the Castle) found us in a few pubs enjoying ciders with the locals. Several hours later, a pub crawl with the larger tour group began in earnest. Eventually, Andrew and I ended at the Walkabout, an Australian-themed pub. By night's end, I was reminded of key differences between a 35-year old attached male and a 25-year old bachelor.
Early Saturday, we left our B&B for a coach ride into the Highlands. The Highlands felt familiar to me. In some ways, the vegetation and mountains reminded me of my NC home, as can be seen by the two pictures above. It is easy to see why my Scottish ancestors would have found WNC appealing. (I need to check Aunt Noma Lee's McMinn family history to see how we got the Irish 'Mc' instead of the Scottish 'Mac'.) Some of the mountains were absolutely massive, and they reminded me of parts of Zion National Park. The Highlands are sparsely populated, and the majority of the land is owned by fewer than 100 very wealthy families. We spent a good part of the day driving through lands owned by the Fleming family, most notable for Ian, who is considered the original James Bond here. Mutt, you will appreciate this story. For a mere 1000 pounds (about 1660 USD), you can buy a license to fish or hunt on the Fleming lands for one week. This is not a bad deal according to Fred, our coach driver. Another land owner charges 33,000 pounds to fish one of her three salmon streams for a week, and you can only keep three. Given the two-year waiting list to fish on her property, she is not hurting for money (99,000 pounds a week total just to own property that others want to fish).
The Highlands are dotted with sheep and Highland cattle, and the sheep seem perilously perched on the sides of jagged crags. Many of the mountains were covered in heather; much of it had lost its purple hue to signal the start of fall. The roads traced the serpentine perimeter of the many lochs, some of which flow to the North Sea or the Atlantic Ocean. Of course, no tour of the Highlands would be complete without a stop at the most famous loch, Loch Ness. There was no sighting of Nessie, but the 22-mile long loch and the remains of Equhart Castle that sit above it were beautiful. It amazes me for all the wind coming off the loch and the generally frigid waters, the inhabitants of the castle didn't freeze to death.
It is easy to see why Dianne would have felt connected to the Highlands. I very much felt a sense of being at home. No worries, Mom--I am not moving to Scotland. But I did think it would be nice to come back to the Highlands and spend a week hiking.
Sunday was another early day. After a not-so-great breakfast at the not-so-friendly B&B, I headed to find a camera battery (a nearly impossible feat) and to explore Edinburgh before my afternoon train. I headed to the Leith River and walked along its footpath at Gareth's recommendation. I then headed to Arthur's Seat. Rising 823 feet above sea level (the North Sea is not that far to the east), Arthur's Seat sits above Edinburgh. It is a volcanic formation that was later shaped by glaciers, just as the rock is where Edinburgh Castle sits. I was content to sit at the lower plateau; my acrophobia prodded me to go no further. Even at this lower height, the wind was fierce. It was a conscious effort to steady my hand long enough to snap a photo. However, I pushed myself to keep climbing, knowing that my would-be regret of no scaling to the top was stronger than my fear of heights. What a great decision! The views from Arthur's Seat were spectacular--360 degrees for miles and miles. Any care in the world doesn't exist when you are sitting above flying birds, and I can see why the Scots believe this point is where a king would perch. The experience was so exhilarating that I practically skipped down the formation and back to the city.
I finished my time in Edinburgh with a little shopping. The Royal Mile feels a bit like Gatlinburg (GASP!) with all its souvenir shops. No NASCAR or airbrushed t-shirts, but there were kilts, cashmere, wool, and bagpipes in every store. Before dashing to the train, I made a quick stop to see the statue of Greyfriar's Bobby. We should all have a companion so loyal.
Five days until utter happiness!!!! ;)

Shamus, a Highland bull. He slobbered a lot, but was a beautiful animal.
Standing at the top of Arthur's Seat. It was very windy, and the views spectacular. Surprisingly, though, the peak is only 823 feet above sea level.
Walking up Arthur's Seat, looking down on The Palace of Holyrood House (Holy Cross), the Queen's official residence in Scotland. She spends a week here each year before traveling to Balmoral.

Edinburgh's Castle high above the city.

St. Giles Cathedral on Edinburgh's Royal Mile.
Bobby is a legend in Edinburgh. As the story goes, Bobby loved his master dearly. When he died, Bobby would not leave his master's grave, except to eat at the pub where his master ate each day at 1:00. Every night he returned to the grave to sleep. Years and years later when Bobby died, he was buried with his master.
The view from atop Arthur's Seat, looking across the Firth of Forth. The firth eventually empties into the North Sea.
Some of the leaves were beginning to turn colors at Loch Ness in the Highlands.
The remains of Urquhart Castle, overlooking the 22-mile long Loch Ness.
Not as high as Arthur's Seat, but still an impressive view from Edinburgh Castle.
This rainbow (actually there are two--a faint one on the right) appeared outside the train window as we left Scotland and headed to London.