Walk Home Together

Well enough time has passed that I could organize my thoughts about our New Year’s trip to Edinburgh. If you’ve read much of my writing, you might have noticed that things always seem to happen when I travel. Blessing or curse? Unclear.

I should start by saying that I planned the entirety of this trip, and details are not my thing. I roll right on past “important” things in my enthusiasm to go on vacation, such as from which airport our connecting flight departed. Which is how our trip began: after an overnight flight to Heathrow, we consulted the screens and the lovely British Airways staff with the same result: our connecting flight to Edinburgh did not leave from Heathrow and in fact departed from another airport I’ve never heard of that was CLEAR across London. We couldn’t make it if we tried. No other flights available. I should add that Will Rice was super sweet and understanding about this screw up…reason being, we both know that he once flew to Portland, Maine instead of Portland, Oregon. I didn’t mention it and neither did he. And that is why we’ve been married for 28 years.

After consulting the train schedules, we made the decision to cab it to King’s Cross station, kill some time around there and then hop on the only available nonstop to Edinburgh.

When the taxi driver pulled up in his adorable little black London cab car, he looked straight from central casting with his accent and his little tweed street cap. He was jolly and knowledgeable and I loved him right up until he said:

“I just love your president! He’s for US!”

And I said:

“No.”

Anyway, in the ensuing total silence we pulled up at Kings Cross and look around and end up having a lovely lunch at a restaurant called The German Gymnasium (?) but Will’s semaglutide kicked in hard so really I had a lovely lunch while he just kinda sat there. Poor baby.

After a bit we got on the train and it was fairly uneventful EXCEPT for one 20-something girl who talked loudly on her phone THE ENTIRETY OF THE 3 HOURS. The famous British politeness apparently did not prevent her from talking about her situationship, her roommate, her cat, and her recent eyebrow tattoo appointment. I think I speak for every unfortunate soul in that train car in saying that we all learned a lot that day and every bit of it against our will. Why did no one ask her to lower her voice? No idea. All I know is that Will and I just drank our terrible wine from the beverage cart and pushed our Airpods in harder like some non-confrontational chumps.

So, we get to the hotel. It is perfect. It is Hogwarts-esque and the room key was an honest to goodness old-school skeleton key with a giant tassel on it. Adorable. The room has a copper freestanding tub next to the window and antique rugs and cozy tartan everything. I am in love with this place and so proud because I picked it myself! 5/5 stars for the Roseate Hotel!

Over the next few days we explored Edinburgh which is truly one of the coolest cities I’ve ever seen…
The architecture (ancient castles and slightly less ancient castles)
the landscape (ridiculous)
the history (historical)
the food (including the tiniest most delicious oysters I’ve ever had in my life)
and the people (shout out to the tatted sommelier with red dreads: love you, girl!!)
Everything was just spectacular.

A few highlights:

-We walked into a pub that was inexplicably playing “Sold: The Grundy County Auction Incident” which, if you have read about our Jamaica trip, that tracks.
Will asks the server if they have Guinness (why?!)
Server deadpans:
“Yes we have Guinness. We also have beer.”
When I tell you these smart asses are my PEOPLE.

-We went on an “Outlander” tour of castles and locations and the husbands/boyfriends of these Jamie and Claire groupies were such good sports! These guys were from all over the world: Argentina, Germany, Korea, Italy. And if there’s one thing I know with 1000% certainty is that every last one of them has tried out a Scottish accent and wondered if they could pull off a kilt.

-We toured the Royal Yacht Britannia which was very cool. The thing I found most odd was that the royal staterooms each just had a single tiny twin bed? Also there were bars in every single room? Sometimes more than one? So the Royals are just getting hammered day drinking and then sleeping it off on a 99 cent pool float? I’m not saying I haven’t done it; I’m just saying it was unexpected…but it also explains a lot.

-We had an amazing dinner in a castle dungeon-ish place called The Witchery. I forgot exactly what we ate though because there was a heated argument going on at the 8 top next to us. Friends: you should know that if there’s one thing I love it’s being drama-adjacent. I simply cannot mind my own business. At one point the daughter (?) stormed out. Later I saw her outside smoking a cigarette and had to restrain myself from telling her she’s right and Daniel really is a little shit.

-On the last day we rented a car and attempted to drive to see some of the Scottish the Highlands. Unfortunately it was blustery and snowing and even more unfortunately I was nauseous the whole time. I had to apologize for being zero help with navigating but I was fighting for my life with the window cracked open and hoping against hope it wasn’t last night’s sketchy chicken biryani (it was).

In conclusion, I sincerely hope you were not expecting an informative and well-researched essay about Scottish travel. Because I don’t do that.