Day Sixty-Four - 13/12/2012 - Loch Ness, Scottish Highlands

     This morning, we took the opportunity to move back into Fort William.  The hostel's owner was nice enough to drive us back into the city.  We talked about the state of the Scottish economy relative to Ireland and England.  She related that, while not improving, Scotland is not hurting as much as other places.  Nevertheless, we wound up back in Fort William in pouring rain, and located the Fort William Backpacker's Hostel.  Personally this hostel became one of my favorites, made from a converted house.  The guy manning the desk (I can't remember his name, but he reminded me of surfer dudes from California) was extremely helpful and gave us directions to catch the bus to Inverness, the route towards Loch Ness.  He told us which stop to get off on, Drumnadrochit, the nearest town to the Loch Ness visitor centre.
     So, we dropped off our things and stored our leftover food in the hostel's fridge, then made our way to the bus station to get the CityLink bus to Inverness.  CityLink offers services in the UK and Ireland, similar to AirCoach and other coach companies that I had previously used in Ireland.  The bus, while still much cleaner and nicer than buses in California, was predominantly utilised by older people, compared to the ones in Ireland which seem to be used by young and middle-aged people.  This was a trend that I had observed throughout Scotland.  The bus ride to Inverness from Fort William was to last about three hours, and so we prepared to sleep for the long ride through the beautiful Great Glen, the forest that spans the width of the island.  At some points, the road narrowed to a one lane road running through a dense forest overlooking Loch Lochy.  There was a single stoplight with a red and green light that directed traffic on this long stretch of single lane highway.
     Eventually we arrived in Drumnadrochit, and were the only two to get off the bus in what appeared to be something of a ghost town.  Slightly worried that we had gotten off on the wrong stop, we wandered around the small city, made up of about fifteen buildings.  A few signs eventually pointed us in the right direction, namely the view of Loch Ness just north, Nessies adorning signs in the town, and advertisements of boat cruises of the Loch.  Drumnadrochit featured a small floral model of Urquhart Castle, the nearby castle located on the banks of Loch Ness.  The miniature was extremely detailed, complete with windows and drawbridge.  We attempted to avail of a boat cruise of the Loch, but the boat company in town had closed down for the season.  We got a recomendation for the last place offering winter cruises, out of a nearby hotel.  A walk to the other side of town revealed large signs pointing toward the Loch Ness visitor centre.  Realising we would need to hire a taxi in order to get to the boat cruise hotel, we decided to explore the visitor centre first, then go to catch our boat cruise.
     The visitor center cost around £6 but contained about an hour's worth of interactive displays and presentations that were fairly enjoyable.  The centre consisted of six displays that began to play a film or light up an aspect of the room upon your entry.  The Loch Ness Monster, affectionately referred to as Nessie by the locals, has an extensive history.  The story dates back to the 6th Century, when St. Columba was said to have banished a "water horse" from the River Ness, after it had killed a man.  There was a Highlander legend of a giant fish that roamed the waters of the Loch, but as time went on and more and more "sightings" were recorded, Nessie morphed from fish to plesiosaur.  Six photographs were recorded, all staged.  A master prankster made casts of a huge dinosaur-like footprint he had found near the area, but it was later revealed to be his hippo-foot ashtray, which he had pressed into the ground to form the footprint impression.  Many of the later sightings were genuine rather than staged, in that the witness actually thought they had seen a Nessie jaunting around the Loch.  Yet, after twenty minutes in the museum, a floating log began to look like that iconic head and back silhouette, the ripples on the calm surface of the lake caused by a boat's wake long after it has passed from view began to look remarkably similar to a serpent rising and diving repeatedly, and, the most common Nessie sighting: a moose swimming the twilight; suddenly you have a newfound appreciation for the mysterious waters of the Loch Ness.  People often wonder why they haven't just searched the entire lake with sonar to settle this once and for all.  First of all, it isn't that simple.  The Loch is the largest freshwater body in the United Kingdom, holding enough water to submerge every person on earth three times over.  But they did launch sonar expeditions, in fact several of them.  One of the biggest, Operation Deepscan, was launched in 1987 with 24 boats, that lined the Loch and swept it from one end to the other, bouncing sonar waves off of the every square metre of the Loch's smooth, ancient sediment floor.  As the ships trawled the waters, smaller boats trailed behind to follow up on sonar signals that could not be accounted for by fish, debris, or other objects.  Despite thorough work of many scientists, there were three sonar soundings that nobody could account for.  When the follow-up boat went to the spot to investigate, there was no trace of whatever large object had made the trace.  Is there a monster lurking the waters of Loch Ness?  You will have to decide for yourself.
     We hired a cab in order to get to the Clansmen Hotel, where the Jacobite Legend was still offering winter boat tours.  We walked down to the dock through a tunnel under the road featuring a mural of the Loch and surrounding Glen.  Across from the boat's landing was a large, purple model of Nessie, staring into the waters of the Loch.  Indeed, we could not have asked for better Nessie hunting weather.  There was a moderate wind, making many short, choppy waves, and rolling fog on either side of the Loch.  It soon became evident how the stray wave or foggy tree could be seen as a monstrous being.  Ater a pensive moment of taking in the impressively massive and beautiful Loch and surrounding hills, we boarded the Jacobite Legend.  We had elected for a one-hour cruise of the Loch and a one-hour stop at Urquhart Castle, nestled on the banks of Loch Ness, about halfway along its length.
     The cruise began with some information about Loch Ness itself.  Much of it was familiar from the Visitor Centre, however some other interesting facts were pointed out.  The reason that the Loch Ness is so murky, such that you can't see more than a metre at best, is due to high peat content from the surrounding soil.  Our boat landed at Urquhart Castle, situated about halfway along the very tall Loch, right where it bends slightly east.
     Urquhart castle, built in the 13th Century, was held as a royal castle in the 14th Century, and frequently raided by Clan MacDonald.  It was granted back to the Highlanders by the Clan Grant of 1509, but was purposefully destroyed by its occupants to prevent Jacobite seizure in 1692.  The castle dominated the coastline from the land side, and you must walk up a grassy hill to reach the reconstructed drawbridge.  Though mostly in ruin, large tracts of the original fortifications are intact and it does not take a huge amount of imagination to imagine the castle as it once was.  We first entered the castle gate by crossing the grass-filled moat.  To the left of the main gate was the Constable's Lodging, a small room with its own toilet, a rare luxury in those days.  The Constable's Lodging was directly connected to the Castle jail, where he could keep an eye on prisoners.  The Constable was also responsible for organising defences and overseeing construction within the Castle walls.
     A spiral glass staircase (sadly, not from the 13th Century) was installed at the rear of the Constable's Lodging, which allowed for ascension to the area above the main gate, where the original Lord's Chamber was.  A rather bumpy, stone bed was cut out of one wall.  Inside the castle walls, it is clear where the original fort was, and which parts were later extensions.  The southern citadel was the site of the original settlement and had been fortified and re-fortified as time went on.  The rest of the castle was built up during the royal occupation.  A stone pad is all that remains of The Great Kitchen, where remains of many animals, including venison, goat, chicken, cow, and fish, and other victuals like hazelnuts and raspberries were found.  The inhabitants of the Castle did not eat salmon or trout caught in Loch Ness, preferring North Sea cod and halibut.  Perhaps the most intact part of the ruin is Grant's Tower, the picturesque square towerhouse looking over the Loch.  The tower was built after the Castle had been granted to John Grant of Freuchie for his support of the King against the MacDonalds.  It was intended for use as a home, as Urquhart no longer had any strategic value.  Looking out onto Loch Ness during this windy day, it was easy to see why so many before me had spotted monsters lurking in its waters.  The choppy waves play tricks on the eye, and it truly was a day with perfect Nessie-hunting weather.  Near the banks of the Loch stand four pigeon-holes of what used to be a massive Doocot, a beehive like structure built to house pigeons, mostly for eating.  Urquhart's doocot was built in the 1500s and provided meat and eggs for the inhabitants during winter.  Outside of Urquhart castle is a full-sized trebuchet, built in 1998 for use in a movie.  The trebuchet was built according to blueprints found from the period, and constructed without use of modern technology.  It functioned well enough for use in filming the movie, which was the first recorded use of such a siege engine.  On a hill opposite the Castle is the Visitor Centre, which was small, but did feature some original finds from Urquhart Castle itself.  The information placards within the ruined castle have signs that direct you to exhibits within the Visitor Centre.
     At this point the boat had returned to pick us up and shuttle us back to the Clansmen Hotel.  We pulled in just as darkness was settling upon the Loch's tree-shrouded banks.  Being once again stranded without transportation, we hired the same cab to drive us back to Drumnadrochit, where we caught the CityLink back to Fort William.  We were rewarded with a pleasant view of the city's lights from the sitting room in Fort William's Backpacker's Hostel.  The city unfolded itself before us, twinkling in the cold air.

Day Sixty-Three - 12/11/2012 - Fort William, Scottish Highlands

     We took a very early train from Edinburgh Waverly to Glasgow Queen Street to catch the train to Mallaig through the West Highlands.  The rail ride through the Highlands is viewed as one of the most scenic in the world, and during our trip, we got complimentary postcards to that effect delivered to us by the nice lady who comes by every fifteen minutes to tempt you with hot drinks and snacks for sale.  Despite the fog and general cloud cover, the trip presented some fantastic sights.  Mountains rose out of the sea of fog.  Countless lochs (or lakes) whizzed by.  A dense forest obscured the right side of the train while a huge peak towered over its reflection in the still waters of the loch on the left.  All over, the dull brown groundcover of the Scottish heath coloured the landscape.  At times lush and green, expansive fields and bogs, other times a woody thicket.  On this four-hour train ride, I became acutely aware of the recorded voice that directs passengers at every stop.  Please mind the gap while alighting from this train.  Ultimately, we arrived despite repeated naps and a separation of trains.
     Fort William was chosen as a destination as it was the biggest city nearby the Clan Cameron lands.  If it hasn't become obvious already, I've been informed that I have ties with the Clan.  Cameron occupies two areas of the Western Highlands, Torcastle and Achnacarry, both of which lie just northeast of Fort William.  Fort William, named for William of Orange and later for Prince William, Duke of Cumberland, was established near Inverlochy, the major Cameron settlement first to control the population after Cromwell's invasion, and then later to surpress the bloody Jacobite Risings of the 18th century.  The town remained unpopular amongst the Highlanders given the ruthless battles fought by forces from the town against the Highlanders, particularly during the Jacobite Rising.  All that remains of the original fort is one wall, the fort having been demolished to make way for the rail station.  Today, the town is mostly a tourist town that attracts mountain climbers and backpackers during the summer months and skiers during the winter months.
     Arriving in November, the town was between seasons, and mostly deserted.  We wandered from the train station, thankfully finding a pub with free WiFi, which we availed of to make sense of our journey.  The pub, called Cobb's, is a chain in the Highlands, but had decent prices and of course, the elusive free WiFi.  The hostel I had booked was in Roy Bridge, which had not seemed far on the map, but was in fact over 7 km away, at least a two hour walk in unfamiliar areas.  As we had travelled so far north, it was already beginning to get dark around three in the afternoon.  There was only one bus which served Roy Bridge, and it was due in three hours.  There was nothing to do but drink.  I sampled some of the local brews from the Cairngorm Brewing Company, trying first the Red MacGregor ale.  This caused a bit of a stir amongst the locals who said I looked like ole MacGregor himself.  Unfortunately, I had no idea who they were talking about, which caused an uproar of laughter, but all in good fun.  I would later learn that Red MacGregor was something of a Scottish Robin Hood, which leads me to believe I was paid a compliment.
     As I was enjoying my beer, about to make a trip to the ATM, I received a call from the owner of the hostel, informing me that there are no supermarkets or restaurants near the hostel, and thus we must bring our own food.  This was very, very distressing news for Meng, but after much despair, we made our way to the local Tesco and stocked up for two days.  The hostel owner agreed to meet us where the Roy Bridge bus lets off to drive us the remaining 2 km to the hostel.  We took the Stagecoach bus, which was also the local school bus, and rode through more sweeping countryside.  We eventually arrived at the terminus and waited in the car park.
     A blue van pulled up with the hostel's logo imprinted on it, and the owner came out to meet us.  He promptly informed us that we arrived in the middle of off-season.  He wasn't too sure if we would be able to make it to the Isle of Skye, one of the attractions we were looking to see, but he figured we could make it to the Loch Ness, only that there were few buses serving it for the time being.  He also figured that the Clan Cameron museum would be closed, as they had a rather limited season.  To top it all off, as we were pulling into the hostel, which was a little alpine cottage tucked away in the middle of nowhere, he informed us that we were the only guests at the hostel for the next two nights.  Multiple red flags had gone off at this point, but we were 7 km from the town, and it was rapidly becoming dark.  I thanked him for the lift, and we were shown our room.  The hostel was situated near a waterfall and a forest, and I'm sure that given some light and other human presence, it would have been quite lovely.  As it was, it was becoming more and more worrisome.  It was now half four, and completely dark.  There were no streetlights or other lights in any direction save for that of our room in the hostel.  The true horror had not set in until we realized that the hostel had no WiFi.
     The hostel had some guidebooks on Ireland and the rest of the Highlands, which we spent some time reading.  I found an ad for the Clan Cameron museum  but to my dismay, I confirmed that it was closed for the season.  The night seemed to be taking a turn for the worse, and I began to wonder if it was a good idea to head to the Highlands in the first place.
     We made the best of it though, and spent the night playing Chinese Checkers and chess, before settling in for the long, sixteen-hour night.

Day Sixty-Two - 11/11/2012 - Edinburgh, Scotland

     After an early breakfast with the rest of the EAP students who stayed the night, I ventured back to Princes Street to return my kilt hire. Instead of the usual route, we walked behind some of the buildings on pedestrian streets. Edinburgh is in the process of building a tram system due to finish construction by 2014 (incidentally the same year the country plans to move for independence), so many of the streets are closed as they are fully or partially excavated. We walked the area around St. Andrew's Square which was surrounded by construction. A massive fluted column stands at the center of the square, outfitted with a figure of Henry Dundas, the first Viscount Melville, and called the Melville Monument.  The Square itself was built in 1772, surrounded by expensive residences forming part of New Town.  David Hume, the famed philosopher, live in the southwest side.  From there we walked down George Street, passing by small pubs, restaurants, and shops, before rounding the corner to Hector Russel on Princes Street to return the kilt.  They come highly recommended, but expect to spend a little more.  You will get a traditional eight yard kilt out of it, sized appropriately, complete with shoes, sporran, and other accessories.  After that was done, we ventured back to St. Andrew's Square and stopped briefly at a modern glass dome of a coffee shop to check the maps. I was able to connect to The Cloud: (To The Cloud!) Scotland's free, semi-extensive public WiFi. From there, we headed north (but down) Scotland street, towards a private garden, and eventually to King George V park, which was quite small and half-converted into a car park. It had been used as an athletic facility in the days of the King, featuring an elaborate multi-man rowing pool known as the Great Sea Serpent.  Sadly, that became a car park.  Then we walked up Eyre Place to Cannon Street, past the Canonmills to Inverleith Row. The Canonmills are so named because the Augustinian canons of Holyrood Abbey in Edinburgh operated a mill here, lending the suburb its name.  There is one building, aptly named Canon Mill, that survives the village period from the sixteenth century.  This street brought us to our final destination for the morning, the Royal Botanic Garden of Edinburgh.
     We entered the Botanicals from the east, near the Scottish Heath Garden.  Heath refers to the shrubs forming the base of most vegetation in Scotland.  This garden showcased various plants and their ancient as well as modern uses. Heather, being abundant, was put to many different uses such as making mattresses, baskets, brushes, yellow dye, thatch, rope, served as fuel for fire, and somehow, a flavour for beer.  The Heath Garden connected to the Rock Garden into which we next ventured. This section of the Botanicals had many small bridges and rocks with associated mosses and other plants. Scotland has many alpine flora that subsist mainly on rocks.
     Walking out of the Rock Garden, we made walked past the John Muir Grove, featuring some famous redwoods to another part of the garden termed the Chinese Hillside. This section featured plants from the Southern region of China that were endangered and grown here to protect the species. This hill had an intricate waterfall with several crossing bridges that proved quite lovely and relaxing.
     From the Chinese Hillside we walked up though the inner circle of the gardens and to the Fossil Garden, next to the glasshouses. The gardens charge no admission save for the glasshouses which host collections of plants not able to survive the outdoor climate of Scotland. The majority of the garden, however, is free and quite impressive. The Fossil Garden was more of an exhibit of one extremely large fossilized tree, dating some 320 million years old.
     From the Fossil Garden, we walked to the Queen Mother Memorial Garden, planted in 2006 in honor of Her Majesty The Queen.  Directly across from the Memorial Garden is a huge hedge, standing about three metres tall and over 100 years old. Along the green plots formed by the divisions of the hedge are a number of student gardens from local primary schools in which each student is given a square foot to grow food: potatoes, tomatoes, and the like.  On the other side of the hedge, opposite the student gardens, young children played with their parents in huge piles of fallen autumn leaves, happily chasing each other around armed with bundles of foliage. Meng had a stand off with a very large squirrel.
     We exited the gardens from the main entrance on the west perimeter of the gardens. The visitor centre was recently remodeled and houses the gift shop as well as an exhibit following the life of a single oak tree to give some perspective on the uses and lifespan of lumber and trees. The Royal Botanic Garden proved a pleasant escape from the city that could be explored in just over an hour.
On the way back from the Botanicals, we walked up Arboretum Place to the River Leith Walk, which was regrettably under construction, but diverted us to the Rocheid Path which ran along the river as well. This left us by Tanfield house, and we returned to St. Andrew's Square via Scotland Street, the way we had come. Around this time I began to realize that, while most cities I have visited have a historic district, Edinburgh boasts historic buildings spanning a few kilometres in every direction.  The New Town, built in the 1800s formed the backdrop for the day's adventures.  But those parts of High Street new Edinburgh Castle formed the Old Town, which has suffered its fair share of fires.  The West End completes the city centre, viewed as the cultural centre compared to the economic (New Town) and the historic (Old Town).
     We met up with Melina and Andrew at Calton Hill, just east of Waverly Station and along Waterloo Place. To get up the hill we had to ascend three flights of stairs, followed by a steep incline, and finally, the hill itself. Out of breath, we met up with our friends and walked around the hill for some breathtaking views. Unobscured by parapets or people, these views exceeded those from the castle I visited yesterday. We walked by the Dugald Stewart monument, a circle of pillars enclosing around a vase serving as tribute to the philosopher who was a professor at the University of Edinburgh.  We passed the City Observatory but it was closed. A little ways down the hill, a Portugese cannon rests, aimed at the bell tower of the Balmoral Hotel at the intersection of Waterloo Place and North Bridge. The cannon was the last of its brethren, surviving melt down for metals during World War II. Near the center of the hill is the National Monument, a Parthenon-esque collection of columns in a rectangle with one side open. At this point, Andrew and Melina left for their train to Glasgow and we ventured down Regent Walk, offering some views of Holyrood Abbey. We passed by St. Andrew's House, the headquarters of the Scottish Parliament, and into the Calton Burial Ground. The cemetery contained the grave of David Hume, the famed philosopher, known for his work on empiricism.
     After saying goodbye to Andrew and Melina, we returned to the hostel to recharge (literally, our devices were running out of charge). As it was already dark at a little past half four, we headed just across the street to Joseph Pearce, a pub on Elm Row. We ordered a platter that was to come with their famous meatballs but sadly they were out and instead came with bread and oil, roasted potatoes, chicken satay, king prawns, and olives. I also got a chance to try Belhaven's St. Andrew's Ale, brewed in Scotland, calling itself the "Home of Golf".
     We got to sleep early in preparation for the next day's early train ride.

Day Sixty-One - 10/11/2012 - Edinburgh, Scotland

     This morning we walked to High Street, passing over the North Bridge. The North Bridge afforded some stunning views of Calton Hill and Edinburgh Castle on the other side. Arthur's Seat loomed in the background.  Arthur's Seat refers to one of the hills overlooking the city, in fact the tallest one providing the best views.  A legend surrounds this locale, of course.  King David I of Scotland in the 12th century was in the forest of Drumselch, at the foot of Arthur's seat, when he had fallen from his horse and encountered a stag.  Right before the stag was about to gore him, he had a vision of a cross between the stag's antlers, and then the stag turned away for no apparent reason.  King David established Holyrood Abbey on the spot, assuming his life had been spared by divine intervention.  Arthur's Seat is also rumoured to be a possible location of King Arthur's Camelot.
     High Street was lined with statues, churches, and shops, all adorning the route towards Edinburgh Castle. Just before we made it to the castle at the top of Castlehill, we saw a Highland warrior in full dress, with kilt, claymore, and half his face painted blue. The claymore is a massive, two-handed sword popularized by the Highland clans in the 1400s and used until around 1700.  The average claymore is about 140 cm in length, weighing 2.5 kg.
     The castle is predicated by a large paved rectangle lined with memorials for Scot military groups. The walk to the castle follows a stone bridge then links to a modern wooden bridge in place of the would-be-drawbridge over a dry moat. Under the portcullis, you are directed to the queue, which was surprisingly long. The castle charged £14.50 for admission, unfortunately without student discounts. The walk from the queue to the inner portcullis rises another few metres, impressing the loftiness of this fortification. Edinburgh Castle rests perched atop a craggy cliff in the heart of the city. As we walked to the parapets, regularly intersected by cannons, the cityscape of Edinburgh sprawled before us. The view from the parapets was spectacular, with the harbour situated on Forth Firth, the inlet bisecting Edinburgh from the Scottish Highlands, to the Forth Bridge leading into North Queensferry. From the parapets we headed into the castle, passing the three storey governor's house and stopping to go into the Royal Scots museum. This museum explained the military history of the Scottish members of the British Armed Forces, including some of the history of the formation of the Queen's Own Highlanders. From the museum we headed up several more metres to finally reach the citadel. We stopped at the citadel near Mons Meg, a medieval bombard, appropriately known as a "supergun" that is capable of firing a 510mm stone ball about 2 miles.  It is 406 cm long, weighing 6.6 tonnes.  It was manufactured at Mons in Flanders.  The most common legend surrounding it is that it was manufactured by a blacksmith of the Threave Order to be used in aid of King James II in the 1452 siege of Threave Castle.  Clan MacLellan used it to batter the castle and named it after his wife.  Since then, it has mostly been used in celebrations.  The 20-inch gun fires balls weighing 400 pounds, but in 1680 it was fired to celebrate the arrival of James Duke of Albany and York, causing the barrel to burst.  It has been broken ever since.  An Englishman loaded the weapon, which led to views that the gun was purposefully destroyed as it was larger than any cannon in the English army.  From the citadel, we were able to get a good view of the one o'clock gun, a tradition carried on by Einburgh castle since 7 June 1861.  A 64 pounder used to be fired, but now a 105mm field gun, a safer gun, is used, firing blanks, to announce one o'clock. At about five till, a woman in military dress appeared and marched towards the gun. She stopped several paces short of it and produced a timepiece. We all watched with bated breath. Finally, she took two steps forward and held the pocket watch at arm's length. She stopped once again for about a minute. Then, neatly and without much warning she took one step forward and fired the gun. From the citadel was also a view of the dog cemetery used for the dogs of those living in the castle. Miniature tombstones bearing first names make up the small grassy plot. Further into the citadel we passed by the half moon battery, a semicircle of cannons used to defend the front of the castle. When Edinburgh was captured by the Highlanders, the castle protected itself from capture mainly by use of these guns. Past the battery is David's Tower, mostly in ruin, but on display under very dim lit.
     We next entered the main square of the castle, a quadrangle made up of The Scottish National War Memorial on one side, the Great Hall Opposite, the Honours of the Kingdom exhibit and the Royal Apartments.  The Scottish National War Memorial was a sweeping hall filled with books honouring those that had fallen in battle.  I found a book detailing the Cameronians of the Queen's Own Highlanders who had been killed.  Clan Cameron fought at times for the King and at times against the King.  Names engraved in the stone lined the hall, from floor to ceiling, adding to the twenty-odd books of names.  After that sombering experience, we headed across the square to the Great Hall.  Just as we had entered, two soldiers dressed in WWI garb rushed past us, carrying a comrade between them by his arms.  They were donning gas masks, their comrade coughing violently, and the muffled shouts of "Gas, gas, gas!" filled the hall.  This was of course a reenactment of the horror of mustard gas use in WWI, and the Great Hall was filled with these theatrical reproductions followed by historical explanation throughout the day.  The hall itself was lined with broadswords, claymores, spiked shields, and other forms of weaponry and armor.
     I ventured next into the Honours of the Kingdom exhibit.  The Scottish Honours, or Crown Jewels, were used in the coronations of Mary, Queen of Scots, James VI, and Charles I.  Their last use was in 1651 for Charles II, before he was executed by Parliament.  They narrowly avoided being melted down by Cromwell because they were smuggled out and buried under the floor at Kinneff church for eight years.  They were later locked away at Edinburgh Castle for 111 years starting in 1707.  By 1818 most had forgotten about them, some believing them to have been stolen.  In any case, they were lost within the castle.  A group led by Walter Scott, a writer, found the chest in which they honours were thought to be stored.  Most, including Scott, thought the chest would prove to be empty, but when they opened in, the honours were found again.  The original chest is on display within the exhibit.  The Honours are on display in the final room of the exhibit, along with the Stone of Destiny, so named for its use in the coronation chairs of lines of Kings.  Nobody knows for sure where it came from, but legends surround this stone that would be placed under the coronation chair of kings.
     As we left the castle, we passed a headless street performer.  Indeed, with trenchcoat, tophat, sunglasses, and no head, he proceeded to read the newspaper.  We made the short walk to Victoria Street, famous for its multitude of colourful shops.  Meng and I stopped to get lunch at Howie's Cafe, where we both tried haggis.  I found it to be delicious.  It is served with neeps and tatties, or potato mash and squash.  After lunch we met up again with Andrew and Melina and stopped at the Old Town Book Shop, a fantastic little store that had some really old books.  Most of their prints were guaranteed to be at least 100 years old, but there were also some rare volumes, maps, and the like.  I got a facsimile copy of a map of Scotland from the 1600s.  Our group took one of the ubiquitous black cabs back to the hostel.  The taxi was actually really comfortable and spacious inside.
     Back at the hostel, everyone got ready for the Thanksgiving celebration put on by the EAP through which we were studying, the main reason for many to come to Edinburgh.  They had hired the double decker red buses to take us to the venue, called the Hub, which was a converted cathedral we had walked by earlier in the day.  The celebration was a little bit more than that, being a Caleigh, or traditional Scottish dance.  Because of this, we were invited to wear kilts, which accounts for my business yesterday.  Before dinner started there was a display in the bar of the photo contest and poetry contest entries, the winner to be announced during dinner.  After mingling and mocktails, we sat down for dinner, which was a lovely feast of turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, and thankfully, pumpkin pie.  They announced the winners of the contest, and I was fortunate enough to receive an award for my picture of me holding up the Plassy.  After dinner we started the Caleigh, which was difficult given our inexperience and the size of our group, but quite entertaining nonetheless.

Day Sixty - 9/11/2012 - Edinburgh, Scotland

     Andrew, Melina, Meng, and I took the 0300 AirCoach to Dublin Airport for what was to be Meng and my first Ryanair flight.  We had been warned by friends and by email from the airline itself, that Ryanair, while having the cheapest fare, is very strict on cabin baggage allowances. Bags must be 55x40x20cm and less than 10 kilos or they charge you €50/£50 on the spot, whichever they prefer. We had heard horror stories of a mean lady who comes around with a cardboard box of the above dimensions, preying on the nervous passengers waiting outside in the cold rain to board their flight. If her box doesn't fit over your luggage without significant pushing and shoving, then you are charged on the spot. If you can't pay them your bag doesn't come with you. Thankfully we encountered no such lady.  The airline reduces its fares by operating Boeing 737s, with no bells nor whistles. All things considered, it was not bad at all. For a flight from Dublin to Prestwick, you paid €45. The equivalent British Airways flight was €150. The flight was surprisingly fast (Ryanair prides itself as being the airline with the most on-time flights and pilots get bonuses based on their consecutive on-time flights) and it seemed that we never reached cruising altitude but rather began our descent before finishing the ascent,
     Upon landing in Prestwick, we walked through the airport into the train station by means of a skywalk. ScotRail offers a great deal where you get half off rail fare on the day of your flight, making the train cheaper than the bus. We waited by the train station next to a curious sign instructing passengers to buy tickets on the train.  When the train did arrive, everyone boarded and took their seats. The train departed. We started passing and stopping at stations, but still no apparent way of purchasing tickets had presented itself. After thirty minutes of traveling, we were about to pull in at the terminus, Glasgow Central. At the last minute, the ticket vendor came through. We were able to buy our return tickets for another day at the reduced rate, something to keep in mind when traveling by rail in Scotland.  At Glasgow Central, we took a shuttle to Queen Street station for another train to Edinburgh. Transportation in Europe seems to move faster than in America. Trains in the rail next to us came whizzing by so fast that you only heard a whoosh after a split second flash of blue. After all falling asleep on the train, we pulled into Edinburgh Waverly, right underneath Edinburgh Castle. It then became apparent how tickets are checked for ScotRail. After exiting the carriage you must pass through a ticket check machine to be able to exit the platform. Sadly, the machine keeps your ticket.
     Exiting the station required use of four flights of escalator stairs to gain the level of Princes Street. We began to walk as a group towards the hostel. We walked up Leith Street, passing the Omni Center, a mall/gym/food court which was presently adorned with the naked torsos of four Scottish rugby players, much to the delight of the female members of our group.
     Eventually we reached the Edinburgh Central Youth Hostel, at Haddington Place on Elm Row.  Meng and I headed to I Heart Cafe on Haddington Place. Meng got their famous pulled pork sandwich while I had a delicious Reuben with sauerkraut. As the cafe was one of the few places in Scotland with free WiFi, I availed of this and downloaded the Scotland app, featuring downloadable and therefore offline street maps of Scotland, which proved invaluable for the duration of my trip. The app is put on by the Scottish Tourism Board and offers discounts along with the maps and catalogues and locations of accommodation and attractions. Best of all, it can be used offline.
     I then attended to some business on Princes Street which will be addressed later. We met Andrew and Melina at the head of Princes Street and briefly explored the Princes Streets Gardens before heading to the National Gallery.  The Scottish National Gallery houses a collection of art from the early Renaissance to the end of the nineteenth century.
     After the gallery, at about five in the evening, it had gotten dark. Back at the hotel, we watched some television, ironically American TV shows broadcasting on BBC 4, including How I Met Your Mother and The Big Bang Theory. Later, a show with Derren Brown came on as he tested the placebo effect.  Brown is a British illusionist who creates TV specials to showcase various illusions and deceptions, and this week he was focusing on the placebo effect of a made-up drug.
     All in all, it was a fantastic first night in Edinburgh, a city that would prove to be historical and inviting.