If it's not Scottish, it's crap!

Late '90s semi-obscure Saturday Night Live reference made: check.

Landed in Edinbugh, Scotland: check.

Bagpipes heard (and scurried away from): check.

Creepy street performers sighted: check.

Altoids found: um, no. Dang.

I've been out of Altoids since about South Africa, and ever since I've been looking at drug stores, groceries, convenience stores, with no luck. I figured when we hit Barcelona and were in the EU I'd be able to find them, but still no luck in Spain. Then I figured surely Amsterdam would have them, but the only thing I found were large sweet peppermints, so not the same thing as the wonderfully pepperminty orbs in the metal tin.

Surely Scotland as part of the UK would have them, right? Um, no. Guess I'll keep looking and see if they're in London, and if not I guess I'll have to wait until I get home and get them at Sam's Club or Kroger in Charlottesville. The peppermints sound less exotic when I put it in those terms.

Okay, now that that's out of the way, we've got about another week to go before disembarking in Dover, UK, spending a couple days in London, then heading back to Good Ole VA US of A. I miss home, I miss the students who were aboard the Academic Voyage, I miss my parents and brother and friends back home, and I really miss being semi-fit and fast on a bike. I know it's going to take awhile to get back into a rhythm once I'm back. For now, I'm still enjoying seeing lots of sights, so we've got a couple more to go.

It's been good. It's been exhausting. It's been harmonious. It's been drama-filled. It sure hasn't been boring. I think it'll take me years to process all I've seen, done, and experienced. I'm starting to realize that soon the trip will be over and I'll be back home. Starkly, simply, home. Life goes on, has gone on. Life has happened while on the ship. Next phase of life begins shortly.

Today is Monday May 20 and we left Edinburgh, Scotland around 2030 (8:30pm) last night after about, oh, 8 hours ashore. Definitely one of the shorter stops along the way. It's a pretty place, what I could see of it through the fog. With just a little bit of time, we hopped ashore, bussed it to the big Edinburgh Castle at the top of the hill in town, then worked our way back before heading off to Belfast, Dublin, and then Dover. The ship will continue for a couple more weeks to Scandinavia and Russia, but we won't be able to stay aboard that long. I'd love to see places a bit north of Europe, but maybe some other time.

At the castle, we saw stone fortress buildings built over the years to house the growing Scottish port and protect the area. Mostly what I got out of it was a desire to go back to my laptop that evening and rewatch Monty Python and The Holy Grail. The castle and museum artifacts could have been the setting for the movie. If you haven't seen it, watch it. If you have seen it, rewatch it and remember, it's merely a flesh wound.

The castle sits at the top of a touristy stretch of street called The Royal Mile. About a quarter down the Royal Mile, we were getting hungry and ducked into a pie shop for some English pastries. Not low-fat, but filling and tasty. A few steps further up the block was the Scottish National Museum. In some ways, it's like portions of the Smithsonian crammed into a decent but not huge building: some hands-on science experiment stuff, some transportation stuff, history, and special exhibits including a cool exposition on bugs stuck in amber. Best yet, it was free. The Edinburgh Castle was well done but kinda pricey at 16 pounds, so it was good to hit a free museum. I think the Scottish lottery funds the place, and that seems like a good use of voluntary tax in my mind.

Plus, the National Museum was near the one additional place I wanted to see: Brewdog. Again, this goes into my beer nerd focus, so I'll try to explain it without it seeming too silly. Brewdog is a bit of a rabble-rousing brewery in the UK, and UK brewing tradition tends to be somewhat grounded in history. British beers are quite nice and tend to emphasize subtlety and sessionability (i.e., being low in strength so you can have many in one sitting and good conversation in your local pub). I figured there were British-style pubs in Scotland and will surely be in London, so why not check out the bar by the namesake brewery that ruffles the hackles of many a Brit. Some describe them as being focused on marketing and flash, and others less charitably describe them being in a d!c&-wagging contest to try to keep coming up with the world's strongest or most extreme beers. However, I'd had seen their beers in the US but had never tried them and wanted to see the bar.

Pretty cool place and not as hugely "punk" as the brewery seems to try to come off in the press. Concrete, exposed duct-work, and wood interior, like many other places, plus on a mid-afternoon Sunday it was quiet. I left the museum a bit earlier than Sandy, Ellen, and Jasper, and they joined me after I'd had a draft or two of IPAs since I had a hop craving. Jasper played with Jenga while Ellen and I had a pint of Vice Bier weiss and Vagabond Pilsner, and Sandy caught up on some online articles since there was WIFI. Pretty cool afternoon with a nice vibe, good taps, and fun bar staff. They saw me snapping pictures of the stoat-sheathed bottle that once held End of History and brought it down for a closeup and even told me I could pet it. That right there was worth the price of admission.

Some places along the Royal Mile focused on Scottish history and, obviously, tying that into touristy trinkets you simply must have. I passed on buying bagpipes. I can take the music in small doses if it's mixed into a track such as, say "Under the Milky Way" by the 90s band The Church, but when some dude on the street is cranking out bagpipes at the front of a stone wall, it's exceedingly loud. I put that there with the creepy frozen statues as urban annoyances now that mimes have fallen out of fashion, good for distracting the newbie tourists and best to be avoided while I head to spots that interest me. There were plenty of tartan shops, too, and I saw one for Ramsay but didn't get it. Looked like a basic blue and black plaid. My family has some Scotch-Irish heritage but I'm not sure that specific tartan was exactly correct. Anyways, it looked like the Princess Di tartan, so I took a pass.

Belfast, you're up next, with Dublin and Dover on deck. For now, later.

Foggy day at sea as we near Scotland. I can't see it yet...

The lane winding up to Edinburgh Castle. Named after one of my ancestors, perhaps. Sure, why not?

Today IS the day of fudge. Isn't every day?

Statue of Sir Robert the Bruce at the gate of Edinburgh Castle. I think it was intended to inspire awe and a sense of history. It actually made me really, really want to watch Monty Python.

 

Love these old phone booths. The phone inside actually works.

Boom!

Scottish Crown Jewels.

 

Tartans were available on the Royal Mile.

Dolly the Sheep in taxidermy at the Scottish National Museum.

F1 race car at the museum. Jasper drove one in a simulator and got the day's second fastest time.

Taplist at Brewdog Pub.

 
I'll have the stoat, please. This is one of 7 bottles of the stoat (large) version of End of History, which I think was more of a publicity stunt than actually a real brew. It supposedly clocked in around 55% (110 proof) and retailed for over a grand. The stoat was soft and had a wonderful bouquet–the actual stoat, that is, since I didn't get to actually try the beer.