Scotland

Upon driving to the airport at an ungodly hour (4:15 AM), I was struck with the realization that my knowledge of Scotland was limited to kilts, scotch, the Loch Ness monster, & Braveheart (which I have not seen, much to Zack's horror & dismay.) So when we landed in Edinburgh (pronounced "Edin-burra"...not "berg") I had no expectations, and my mind was wide-open.

And I fell in love.

 Maybe it was the dozens of gorgeous, fascinating graveyards popping up all over the city, or maybe it was the castle itself, looming over Edinburgh like a proud, protective older brother. It certainly could have been the accents and food, which both had me drooling at any given moment. Perhaps it was the charm of the Royal Mile, or the disturbing, whispered tales of what happened underground (y'all know I love that stuff.) Whatever it was, both Zack & I fell even harder for the UK.

Because we got in so early in the morning, and were unable to check into our hotel until 1400, we headed to a sweet little restaurant called the Red Squirrel and had breakfast. Zack was itching to try haggis, and for a boy who talked a mighty big game, I'm pretty sure he only ate two bites. (Haggis is a traditional Scottish dish, containing sheep heart, lungs, & liver and is encased in the animal's stomach lining. So I really could not blame him.) I got the vegetarian version of Zack's breakfast and I absolutely loved everything. Especially the cappuccino, but when have I ever not enjoyed a cappuccino? I think I might turn into one. 

The rest of the day was spent exploring the city, which was surprisingly easy to do on foot. We saw the castle, some graveyards, the Royal Mile, Calton Hill, Top Shop (Since I didn't get to go in one in London, I demanded the store be put on our 'must-see' list), Palace of Holyrood (which I kept referring to as 'Bollywood' and really, really annoying Zack), and Princes Street Gardens. Once 1400 rolled around, we were able to check into our hotel which was quite a step-up from the usual slums places we stay. In both travel books we had, the hotel was listed under the "High-End" section of hotels, and said rooms run about £350 a night. Our room had a rather magnificent view of the castle, and at night it was really something to see. Thank goodness for off-season pricing.

 That evening, after a nap and an impromptu (and completely normal) lizack dance party in our hotel room, we headed out for a ghost tour. We really didn't have time to have a sit-down dinner, so we split a döner, and it was the strangest döner I'd ever had. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't earth-shattering like 98% of all döners I've had are. But Zack got to speak some Arabic to the owner, and talk about Egypt (he gets more excited over this than anything in the world) so all was not lost. We met up with the ghost tour group and explored the city underneath the city, which I was dying over because I was so into it. If you'd like to know more, go here. (Forgive me for citing Wiki.) It's really, really fascinating stuff. To finish up the tour, we went into Greyfriars Kirkyard and learned the horrific tale of what George McKenzie did to thousands of Covenanters in the church yard. We got to stand in a dark vault in hopes someone would pass out, or get beaten up (as is rumored to have happened to hundreds of visitors) by McKenzie's ghost. Nothing happened, and I was sorely disappointed. I saw a bruise on my arm the next day and tried really hard to convince myself it was from a ghost, but I'm pretty certain it was from carrying luggage. The only slightly bizarre thing that happened that night was I was going around the graveyard taking pictures (not the bizarre part) and my camera was doing just fine. I stopped to take a picture of McKenzie's tomb, and my shutter wouldn't release. I tried like five times, and it simply would not take a picture of that particular image.

The following day was spent exploring areas of the city we had missed. St. Andrew's Square, Queen Street, the National Portrait Gallery, ducking into little shops along the Royal Mile, and taking a bus out to Ocean Terminal for no particular reason other than to further my belief that Zack is indeed turning into an Anglophile. (He spent 32 minutes in the Royal Yacht Britannia gift shop reading books on Queen Elizabeth. I spent 26 minutes picking up the free Wi-Fi and 6 minutes eating Millionaires' Shortbread.)

That night we devised a brilliant, and incredibly ambitious, plan to have our own personal bar crawl down Rose Street. We would start at the beginning of the street, and have a pint in each bar along the way. We were 3/4 of a way through our first pint, and decided food needed to be made a priority, so the bar crawl was abandoned momentarily. I knew all hope of ever continuing said bar crawl was futile when Zack spotted an "ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT SUSHI" sign in a restaurant. I just ordered a few salmon rolls, but you would have thought Zack was auditioning for a role as King Henry VIII. He was going at this food like none other. Suffice it to say, we waddled back to our hotel room with bellies full of raw fish instead of beer. (Not that I'm complaining...)

We had another early evening flight home, so we were able to fit in a few more things the day we left. We went to the Royal Botanic Gardens, which I imagine are a sight to behold in the spring, summer, and even fall. But in winter there wasn't a whole lot to see. I did get to see Zack attempt to hand feed a squirrel for a good 10 minutes before the squirrel ran off, disgusted. (Can you see why I missed him so? He is constant, 24/7 personal entertainment for me. And he doesn't even know it.) We also got to have afternoon tea at the restaurant in our hotel, which turned into a staggering array of delicious foods. I also tried "tablets" for the first time and was irrevocably hooked.

I'd very much love to return to Scotland, perhaps for the Highland Games or to see more of the countryside. But let's be serious, Millionaires' Shortbread is reason enough to go back.