Still in Edinburgh, but the weather has warmed up significantly to a sweltering 70 degrees. The day started off with a tour at Edinburgh Castle. Make sure you pre-book because on the day we went (Sunday), the next available appointments were 4 days later on Wednesday! Another attraction I had visited before, so this time I was happy once again to follow the group’s lead. Except the group wants me to lead and we get stuck in a sort of chicken or egg paradox. At the information booth, there was a family fun booklet that guided you through the castle to find Mary Queen of Scot’s missing unicorn horn. According to history, when Mary came to the castle in 1566, her list of possessions included a “piece of unicorn horn mounted in silver.” It has never been found and maybe that’s because it doesn’t exist, or if someone like me had found it, the piece of unicorn horn would have still gone missing. What a fun way to enjoy the castle for a second time!
David put Mom in jail and sent Dad this video asking for bail money. He said he had 2 pence to spare. 😂
After exiting the castle grounds, we stopped at the weaving studio and I purchased a beautiful lipstick pink cashmere scarf. It was a bit over budget but remember, the motto this trip is: worth the splurge. I also had to do some clothes shopping because the rain jacket I came with is over 8 years old and the liner is literally disintegrating after too much usage for the past few days. Shopping on Princes Street was less touristy than Royal Mile and I found a lovely new rain coat on clearance. Everything is so expensive in the UK and the exchange rate is terrible for dollars and euros. I exchanged €90 and was given only £65. That hurts the pocketbook for sure.
We have a fun little game every night where we look at how many steps we have taken to see who has done the most. David is always last place, until Mom helped us realize that it’s not about the step count, it’s about the mileage. Naturally, David is moving quickly and taking longer strides so he has less steps. It would have been funny to see him try to beat us each day and tire himself out because that guy moves fast through the streets of Scotland. And I can only move so fast with my short little legs. Opposites really do attract.
Lunch was at Japanese restaurant and we learned that the Scottish would call us knackered, or tired out. Quite knackered, we settled in for a Scottish Siesta back at our B&B to rest up before a haunted history tour later that evening.
We met the tour guide dressed up as murder victim David Rossini, in bloody period garb and wielding both a crude attitude and fake (oh I really hope so) bloody sword. He will be referred to as Coorse David for the rest of this post to differentiate him from My David. Coorse means crass in Gaelic. The crassness bordered on inappropriate and I’m not sure we signed up to be made fun of or called “f*$&ing stupid.” Nor did we want to hear about his sexcapades last weekend. We start following him around Edinburgh and when passerby’s stopped to listen, out of curiousity, he told them to “f*%# off.” Guess out of work actors need work too. The tour was one of the worst ones I’ve been on because we couldn’t hear him as he was walking and talking. We all trauma bonded together because instead of us being engaged and responding to his questions, we quickly learned it was best to keep quiet and hope the tour was over soon.
TRIGGER WARNING: I had a panic attack on the tour and cried. You could say I have some PTSD when it comes to my face – I’ve had 2 incidents in my life where I needed stitches. Once when I was 5 years old and my older brother said I was good enough to skate down the driveway. I scraped my chin against the asphalt…Stitches in my chin. The second incident happened when I got my rescue dog and I startled him out of sleep…8 stitches on my nose and eyebrow. I say all this to lay the scene for why I got really upset & couldn’t just “shake it off” like Taylor Swift or My David suggest.
Right around the end of the tour, we stopped in a cemetery and Coorse David (who now has been cursed by Doña Bruja & yours truly) was waiting for a response to some question those of us walking in the back couldn’t hear. I asked him to repeat it, and he cursed at me. Not one to be disrespectful or disrespected, I flipped him a double bird. Now to put this somewhat into perspective, I was the 2nd individual to do so on the tour; that tells you something, right?! Not liking that, he lunged at me with his fake sword and hit the brim of my baseball cap. “That could have got my eye” I yelled at him. Good thing I was having a bad hair day because that could have easily gone in a bad direction.
You’re probably thinking, OMG, he must have felt terrible and apologized right away. He didn’t. Instead, he said he would give me £5. I tried to lighten the mood, and get the attention off of me, by saying that could buy me my first pint of the evening. At that, he replied he was just trying to buy my silence. Well guess what Coorse David, joke’s on you because you’re getting a negative review from our group. There goes your Christmas bonus and we definitely didn’t give him a tip.
I have never felt so unsafe on an organized tour, and even though some of my favorite people were right beside me, I felt scared and alone. And then the tears came. I wanted to leave, but I didn’t want to give away my power, so I finished out the tour by walking at the back of the group and hiding behind My David, avoiding eye contact with the tour guide.
We reached the last stop on the tour, an underground brothel and the place where 50+ orphans sought shelter during a bad fire that consumed much of the city. The rich went to their summer homes and the kids were taken in by ladies of the night. Unfortunately, all of them perished in the fire due to smoke inhalation and the heat; people have reported seeing little kids looking for their parents or ladies dressed in Victorian clothes.
We took photos and video before we left the underground chamber and thought they looked pretty eerie with these dolls scattered along the back of the dark room. It wasn’t until we got home that both Mom and I found bruising on our left arms that left faded black ovals that reminded me of small (perhaps children’s) sooty fingerprints.
When we reviewed the videos we took while in the underground facility, I captured a voice whispering in my ear something like, “you care” and mom captured someone whistling. The creepy part of the “you care.” is that when we left the chamber, we did our usual ritual of saying, “you can’t follow us home” and I added, “but I hope you find your mom.” I felt so bad for those scared women and children. The ghosts must have felt my empathy. I really do care, unlike some people, ahem Asshole David.
Take a listen to the and let me know me what you hear…if you dare. 👻
In need of a drink, for multiple reasons, we stopped into the closest dive bar for proper pints. It was Mom’s first time (and probably my 10 millionth time) in a dive bar and the vibe was cool with a live band.
In want of a stiffer drink, and because I like whisky, we went to The Bennet Bar near our guesthouse. It was Mom’s first time drinking Guinness and we stayed for about 2 hours laughing, making foam mustaches and tasting different whiskies. It was the perfect way to finish out the day and at least no one lost an eye.
There She Goes... 