Edinburgh: Day 1 (Dec 30)

Okay, I’ve been meaning to get this done…there just doesn’t seem to be much of a rush now that I have internet, but time is slipping away.

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First morning in Scotland! I had breakfast at the guesthouse—it’s good, but not great. I’m not sure that it justifies 50lbs/night, but it is Hogmanay. Point of interest: Hogmanay is the largest New Year festival in Europe and it makes its home in Edinburgh. So I was not only trying to find accommodations at New Year, but also New-Year-on-Crack. And for a warm room, a semi-private bathroom (private in that I was the only one using it, but it wasn’t connected to my room), a hot-cooked breakfast, and a friendly landlady, it wasn’t too bad.

For the uninitiated, I suppose I should describe the breakfasts here. Unfortunately it wasn’t a “full Scottish breakfast”, but it was a “full English breakfast” instead. A full English breakfast consists of: tea or coffee, toast, baked beans, fried tomato, sausage, bacon, and eggs. Also, English bacon is amazing—it’s not the fatty cut like American bacon, but rather pure meat. A full Scottish breakfast consists of all of the things in the English breakfast, but also porridge with a dollop of whisky and blood pudding. If I could’ve taken a picture of breakfast without being rude, I would have. I’ll try to get one here in Cambridge.

Anyway. I wandered around Edinburgh for the morning before meeting with George and his family for lunch at a pub called “The Last Drop.” I thought this was a clever way of referring to finishing your ale or lager, but actually it’s because it was where the old gallows used to be and “the last drop” is in reference to hangings. Pleasant, isn’t it? For lunch, I had haggis, tatties, and neep. Now, haggis has a fairly poor reputation in the states, but hot damn was it good. I actually wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I did, and it continued to grow on me upon later reflection. Point of interest: “tatties and neep” is an English/Scottish way of saying “mashed potato and mashed turnip,” both of which were also very good.

I went back George’s apartment to discuss some details of the work I’m doing with his program for the rest of the afternoon while Hannah, Andy, and Laura went to see a panto (theater specifically aimed at children) performance of Robinson Crusoe.

We had dinner at the apartment and I had a wee dram of some amazing whisky—Edradour. It comes from the smallest distillery in Scotland, just outside of Edinburgh. I had the “cask strength” variety that was 60.2% alc/vol—those who know I don’t drink much whisky will know that this was a trial for me. But it was very, very smooth and exquisite. I’m still trying to get my hands on some for Padre, but it was very expensive. I made my way back to the Grassmarket and then wandered around from there for around an hour or so. I was feeling the jetlag really kicking in, though, so I made it back to the guesthouse in fairly short order and that was that.