Eep! I overslept! Breakfast is served every day from 9-930, and I woke up at 1030—guess the jetlag was serious about doing business. I decided in perfectly rational fashion that seeing as how I’d already missed breakfast and didn’t have to meet George until 1230, I might as well get the most of it. So I went back to sleep. I know, I know, what a way to waste a morning in Scotland, but it really did help. I really hadn’t stopped moving very much for the past several days and had crossed 5 time zones without sleep.
I was a few minutes late to the “Scottish Whisky Experience” to meet George, Andy, and Laura, and apparently missed them completely. I went into the whisky store and poked around. I found some very interesting things: one batch of whisky that had been distilled in May 2008, so it was still clear and hadn’t aged enough to drink, a bottle of whisky that sold for just over 1900 lbs (that’s more than $3000), and probably no less than 100 varieties of whisky for sale. I waited around outside for around an hour, but never connected with them. Once it started snowing in earnest, I finally called it and went back to the guesthouse, where I laid low until 4.30 (only a couple of hours) until I went back over to the apartment. I managed to call home (having gotten an international calling card) before we went out to a pub for dinner. Dad would appreciate that this pub had 110 different malt whiskies. Oh yes. I didn’t have any, but I did have a Scottish lager with dinner (steak pie). We walked around for a while yet, then went back to the apartment to watch “A Dinner for One, or The Ninetieth Birthday” which is a German tradition (the entire thing is on Youtube, check it out). I left shortly after this and walked up to the Royal Mile, waiting for midnight. There was a ton of activity—between a massive festival on Princes’ Street, large flaming balls on the Royal Mile (there are pictures, I don’t really know how else to describe them), massive gaggles of increasingly drunk people of all ages and one lonesome American (me), it was quite a sight. I walked the entire length of the Royal Mile, trying to find Calton Hill (I needed to actually be across the bridge on Princes’ Street instead of the Royal Mile). After looking at the Scottish Parliament building (a fascinating, beautiful building—all modern architecture) and the closed gates of Holyrood Park for a while, I walked back up the Royal Mile. Along the way, many people wished me “Happy New Year”, including a drunk man who kept shaking and kissing my hand.
My watch says it’s nearing midnight. I get as far up the Royal Mile as I can, coming to St Giles Cathedral and then HAPPY NEW YEAR. A waitress from comes running out from an Italian restaurant, the rest of the staff a few seconds after her—they stand just behind me. Two older women are in front of me, hugging each other. Then the sky lights up with fireworks, coming from the castle. It’s wonderful. One woman in front of me pulls a bottle of champagne from her bag and her friend pulls out 2 glass flutes. They pop the cork and toast the New Year.
Happy 2010!
I start my walk back. On the way, many more “Happy New Years” are exchanged with various folks. I don’t think anyone’s sad to start a fresh decade after the “Naughts.” There is a pair of girls who are way drunk, giggling about who knows what. It’s hard not to notice how one has a skirt so short that it seems to defy the laws of physics. I’m laughing inside, but exchange a new year greeting nonetheless. I finally get back to the guesthouse, wondering if it’s a tad late (130 or so by the time I’m finally back), but no, I spy the landladies popping open another bottle of champagne with friends and know all is well.
Twenty-ten. Here we go.
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