We had a bit of a scope out of the Scottish jewels which were not quite as spectacular as those at the Tower of London, but I was pretty fond of the staff. Scotland is cool.
Next, Nick and I popped into the Great Hall, where a very Scottish looking lad was giving weapon demonstrations. Nicholas was lucky enough to be picked (or, I was obvious enough that I wanted him to be picked) to be rugged up in Highlander chic. He had the honour of being a Scottish
pigfarmer named Hamish from just outside Inverness, recruited to fight in the
Battle of Culloden (like in Outlander).
I think I enjoyed it more than he did.
That’s ok with me.
Nick being kilted up (it takes a man to wear a dress)
You can flip the tartan over your head for a handy hood in cold weather.
Our handy guide demonstrating a great way to stun your opponent if your weapons don't do the trick: just disrobe. "Because if there's one thing more intimidating than a horde of big, hairy, angry men chargin' towards you, it's a horde of big, hairy, angry naked men."
Just down from a tiny little chapel there
was a cemetery for soldier’s dogs. This
made me especially sad but also happy because it reminded me just how much the
Scots love their dogs. There are dogs
everywhere in Scotland. On the odd
occasion you see places signed that say they need to be on a lead, but most of
the time they just roam free, trotting along by their human’s feet. It’s amazing.
It’s the best. I love Scotland.
The cemetery for soldier's dogs. RIP Scamp.
I bailed early from Edinburgh Castle,
leaving Nicholas to look at the war museum section by himself. I walked past a huge field of daffodils
(daffodils are everywhere in Edinburgh) to the High St, where I was having a
treatment at the Lush Spa. In case
you’re not aware, I work at Lush and I love Lush (Lush is Love. Lush is Life). In some countries (ie not Australia), they
have spas that are amazing in everywhere and like tiny English country cottages
that smell amazing and serve you tea and jammy dodgers. I had a treatment called Synaesthesia, based
on the condition, which two of the founders have. It was totally immersive and smelt so good
and the massage was also so good. I love
Lush. It was a good day.
The 1 o'clock gun so you can synchronise your timekeepers onboard!
Edinburgh and Arthur's Seat
This whiskey is 13 600 pounds. POUNDS. We did some whiskey tasting though. It was gooooood.
There are lots of pictures of Nicholas in this post. Here's one of me.
We were thinking about heading to a pub for
dinner, but were so relaxed from our spa that we head back to Fergus’ place to
watch some Outlander (I watched Outlander.
Nicholas read Sherlock Holmes, even though he totally wanted to watch
Outlander).
The next day was Good Friday, so a
reasonable day to visit a religious establishment. Cue: Rosslyn Chapel. The weather was pretty miserable and we had
to run for our bus. The staff at the
Chapel were incredibly sweet little old women.
One annoying thing about Scotland is that most places only give you
concession access if you’re a) really
old, b) disabled. Students don’t
count. At the Chapel, I asked if I could
get concession entry with a student card, she asked if Nicholas and I were both
students, we said only me, and she waved her hand and gave us two student
tickets anyway.
Then she said, “Now, today is Good Friday
so there will be quite a few people in there praying.”
We nodded, expecting her to inform us that
we needed to be quiet, pay our respects, etc.
“Just ignore them. They’ll finish up about three. Have a good day,” she said. It wasn’t what we expected.
We went inside, were handed a pair of audio
guides by another friendly old lady, and started making our way around the
Chapel. It really is an incredibly
detailed carved Chapel. This was all
very beautiful and there were some cool stories behind some of the carvings
(all the info could be found in pictures and videos outside the Chapel: it was
very high tech) but there was also a cat.
The cats always win in my book.
The Chapel
Standing outside the Chapel
So many daffodils in Scotland right now!
I’ll tell you one thing about the Chapel
before I tell you about the cat. There
was a pillar that a stonemason had made, and he requested his apprentice make
another. Basically, when the mason went
away for a while, the apprentice made one that was a million times better and,
when the mason returned, he was so mad about being upstaged that he hit him
over the head with a stonemasonry tool and killed him. Here’s a less bastardised version of the same
story I found on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosslyn_Chapel#Apprentice_pillar
Back to the cat. One Sunday, a family from the town of Roslin
wandered to the Chapel and their little black and white kitten followed
them. They left. The cat found the place fitting and
stayed. Perhaps ironically, or perhaps
they changed it after they adopted him, his name was William (William St Clair
was the founder of the Chapel). Another
friendly and tiny old lady distracted William from the pats Nicholas and I were
showering him with to give him biscuits.
She started telling us a host of stories about the quite large tuxedo
cat.
On one occasion, a lady was getting married
in the Chapel in a beautiful designer gown with a long train. They asked her if she wanted them to relocate
William for the service and she said he was fine to stay in the pews, where he
usually liked to sit. As she processed
down the aisle, William decided to take a ride on her train and then curled up
for a sleep during the “I do”s.
On another occasion, he brought in a half
eaten rabbit and dropped it by the altar during Eucharist. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
