The Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo

This morning I awoke and went downstairs at an unusually early hour - I think we are finally catching up with jet lag - in order to do my morning Tai Chi, and perhaps to work out in what I had learned yesterday was a nice fitness center at the Spa.  An exercise class was underway within, and a very fit young woman admitted me and returned to the class of nine or ten women being led by an equally-fit young man, who kept calling out instructions in a Scottish brogue completely incomprehensible to me.

I did some exercises with weights, and then went outside into chilly, windy, exhilarating conditions, intending to merely run around  the parking lot, but ended up completing one mile - my first run in Britain.  We found, as the trip progressed, that plans to run half a dozen times during the trip turned out to be as foolhardy as reading the small stack of New Yorker magazines I had brought with me -  there was simply not enough time or opportunity.

We boarded the Coach and made our way to Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland and its second largest city, with Castle Rock dominating the mountain in its center.

It's narrow streets were teeming with people here for the Edinburgh Tattoo, a spectacular evening show going on all month that had been included with our trip and which we had been told not to miss.  Also underway was the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, the largest arts festival in the world.  There were theatrical performances everywhere, including two satirical productions whose posters I spotted which were gleefully ridiculing American politics.

Travel director Steve not only explained the difference between Georgian, Romanesque, and Gothic architecture, he also dispensed sound advice along the way.  "If you happen to buy a kilt," he said, "Be certain that you buy an expensive one with lots of heavy pleats.  That way it won't blow in the wind!"  I had not intended to buy a kilt and did not change my mind.

The coach stopped for our "Local Specialist," Seana - "shawna," she pronounced it, and yes her Mum had named her after Sean Connery.   She took us on a tour through the city, including the Royal Mile, the Palace of Holyroodhouse, and the new Scottish Parliament building.  Please, Seana, I thought; keep talking!  We love your accent!  She pointed out the Edinburgh version of the Register of Deeds and said it was known as the Office of Hatches, Matches, and Dispatches.  She also showed us some graveyards containing stone watchtowers, constructed in order to prevent grave-robbers from disturbing  the dead.

Seana escorted us to Edinburgh Castle, and in light rain we climbed to the very top of Castle Rock, actually an extinct volcano which had last erupted 350 years ago; we squeezed through the narrow passages of this impregnable fortress, fending off crowds of mostly German and Japanese tourists. 

After our tour of the Castle, we had some free time to explore before returning to Peebles and then coming back this evening for the Tattoo.  I noticed that there were several bars offering the single malt whiskey that Scotland is known for producing.

This bagpiper was playing for loose change just outside the Castle and was glad to pose for photographs. 

We had lunch upstairs in Deacon Brodie’s Tavern, ca. 1741, which was absolutely packed with visitors to Fringe and Tattoo - smoked haddock and kedgeree fish cakes, and delicious!  When we came outside onto the crowded street, there was an entertaining sword-swallower/juggler/comedian performing street theater.  The city seemed to be filled with such spontaneous productions, a simple hat passed around afterward.

After dinner, we returned for the Tattoo, which is a military-type performance featuring bagpipes and fifes and drums, not only from Scotland, but from other countries as well.  It seemed to resemble in some ways the Folkmoot Festivals we have in our part of the country.  It was absolutely spell-binding.

At the beginning of the Tattoo, the Master of Ceremonies called out, “Who’s here from Scotland?  Who’s here from Wales?  Who’s here from Canada?”  We few Americans applauded when they called out our country.  There were people from, it seemed, every corner of the world, enjoying this peaceful display of their military forces.

It was 12:30 a.m. before we finally returned to our hotel, way out in the darkness of the Scottish countryside.