Blowing a Gale

The weather report promised a welcome break from the rain, with some sunshine and high winds. Spot on!

This morning we visited St Giles cathedral. The lady who led the free tour gave us way too much information about John Knox, the Reformation, Mary Queen of Scots, the Marquis of Montrose, the Restoration and Knights of the Thistle. I gleaned three useful pieces of trivia:

- St Giles is usually depicted with an arrow sticking out of his hand and his pet deer

- John Knox is responsible for ordering the removal of the stained glass and is honoured there in ... stained glass

- A woman was so disgusted with the English Book of Common Prayer that she threw a three-legged stool at the preacher. She is honoured with a bronze stool.

Lyn and I left early, with the guide still grappling with the 18th Century, because we had to catch a boat at Queensferry. This was the Maid of the Forth. 

We sailed under the three bridges which cross the Firth of Forth. Each bridge was built in a different century. The middle one is a dud.

As we moved further downstream the wind turned into a gale. The boat was struggling with the conditions but we reached Inchcolme Island safely. 

What a place this is -  but the wind was now a howling gale funneling down the Firth. In the open we struggled to move in a straight line so were all relieved to reach the shelter of the 12th century Augustinian abbey. Exploring was great fun.

Inchcolme Island and the surrounding islets are home to vast colonies of seabirds, and the odd gnome.

Apart from the wildlife and the abbey, the island has a complex of WWI and WWII fortifications around its summit, with quite the views.

After an action-packed couple of hours on the island the Maid returned. Our adventures had only just begun. The Firth of Forth had by this time been whipped into quite a frenzy. The bow dipped into waves which sprayed over our windows and onto the uncovered observation deck above us. The best part of this experience was a baby that kept bursting into delighted baby cackles every time the Maid did her U-boat impression. Eventually we reached shelter. The whole experience had been spectacular. 

Lyn found a local double-decker bus to take us sedately home.

Glasgow

On the train to Glasgow we both wondered why the hills looked odd. Oh! It's snow.

It rained all day and was seriously cold. In Glasgow we went first to the Town Hall for the free tour.  This was built back when Glasgow was "the workshop of the empire". No expense was spared, from the Carrara marble to the Huon Pine. Lyn and I struggled to hear the soft monotone of our Glaswegian guide and what we did hear we only half understood! Still it was fascinating and, importantly, warm.

Despite the weather, I took Lyn in search of the city's famous street art. Brilliant!

An uber took us to Kelvingrove Gallery. This houses a fascinating collection often arranged by theme. Lyn can be seen below in a Hall full of stuffed animals, and yes, that is a Spitfire overhead.

It also displays two versions of the haggis.

The real highlight, however, was the 1.00 pm organ recital. It turns out that everything sounds awesome on a giant organ, we heard Pachelbel, Handel, Puccini, My Way and the Skye Boat Song.

Our final Glasgow treat was courtesy of my sister, Belinda. We had a wonderful afternoon tea at the Art Nouveau Mackintosh on the Willow tea room. 

We caught the train back to Edinburgh with a wee box of leftovers. 

Paying the Piper

Actually, Lyn paid two pipers. She gave up eventually because they are everywhere, skirling their little hearts out.

We started the morning at the National Gallery which has some good stuff including Canova's Three Grace's. 

This wedding looked like fun.

Up the hill we went to Edinburgh Castle. On the way we found the New College and John Knox.

The air was bracing and it was quite a view. Inside Lyn came up with plan to see the Scottish Crown Jewels first. However, as Roberr Burns said, "The best laid plans o' mice an' men gang aft-agley". The queue wound its way through darkened old stone passages and Lyn went full claustrophobe. We fled, but still saw the other highlights including the firing of the one o'clock gun.

One chap was explaining how they dealt with the English in the good old days.

We went home for lunch and the went for a walk along the Royal Mile which specialises in kilts, cashmere and tourists like us. We wandered through the rather good Museum of Edinburgh. Lyn liked the new Scottish Parliament building. When we reached Holyrood Palace I insisted on a taxi back home. The Royal Mile is a hill and I didn't fancy the walk back.

Moving Day

The only casualty yesterday, when we travelled from York to Edinburgh, was Lyn's £6 Sainsburys umbrella. 

We had plenty of time in the morning to pack and call children. Then we rolled bags to the station.  The weather was increasingly dismal and the countryside is sodden. Rain and fog made the journey north grimly scenic. Then the train stopped. There was flooding on the line ahead. Thankfully the delay was short. The seething North Sea appeared on our right but the combination of sheep, green hills, cliffs and seascape couldn't have looked less like home.

We walked the few hundred metres from Edinburgh Waverley up Princes Street to our flat. It turns out that the living room faces Edinburgh Castle!

Out we ventured into rain and cold but any desire to explore quickly vanished. All we wanted was food, alcohol, The Times and washing powder. We made it back but the umbrella didn't. Outside it was 5° with a mixture of rain and snow but inside it was soup, pasta and BBC whodunits.