A long, long, long time coming - sorry folks!

I shamefully left the blog mid-adventure, and for that I apologise. As usual, it is the hectic-ness of London life interupting my journalling. Which is a shame, because I have lots to update you all on once I get this one done... and I don't want it to take as long again...

So, with no further ado, let me return to the last day of our trip.

The morning shone extremely sunny and rather warm, so we didn't linger long over leaving the horrid hostel for some more sightseeing. We traipsed along the Royal Mile, taking in yet more poetic views of a very Dunedin-like city:


inevitably, we came to the Palace at Holyrood House - another of QEII's royal homes. Rather than go in, we thought it would be nice to relax by the fountains outside the Scottish Parliament on the oposite side of the road. It's a really good spot from where to fantasise about climbing Arthur's Seat - the highest point in the remarkable piece of highland landscape slap bang in the middle of town:


Apparently, it's not too hard to climb in four hours or so - so we'll keep it in mind for the next visit. In the meantime, we decided to stay pavement-based and headed to the Scottish Museum. It was boring. The best thing about it was the view from the rooftop. We spent quite a bit of time there soaking in some lovely sunshine and checking the vista towards the Firth of Forth:


After that, it was time to dash to meet friends of Lucy's in their new flat on the other side of town (the posh bit!). Hilary and Annie live in one of a series of old stables and craftpeople's studios that belonged to the whisky barons who made a fortune in the 1800s. The buildings are legally protected from renovation etc. Not only is it gorgeous, but backs on to a private shared garden with a 9-hole golf course, but also tennis courts and a private exit to the other really cool viewpoint in Edinburgh, Calton Hill.

Fancy strolling through your own gorgeously tended flower beds to emerge at this spot! It comes complete with uncompleted replica Parthenon. The almost-monument was a tribute to those who died in the Napoleanic Wars, but Edinburgh ran out of money before it could be finished. Glasgow offered to fund the remainder, but the city fathers were too proud to accept the money. I wonder what they would think if they knew it is now a notorious site for open air hookups of the cash-on-delivery kind?!?!:


After spending some very pleasant time with our hostesses, Lucy and I ventured downtown to the tiny gay neighbourhood and spent our evening in a very good restaurant called Blue Moon. It was lovely.

Overall, my second time in Edinburgh was as good as the first. Knowing the streets and sites well enough to be a bit of a tour guide for Lucy was rather fun. And, I was delighted to find my favourite vegetarian/vegan baked potato cafe in the whole world was still running. Lucy seemed to like it too:

Lots of Lochs

There are two bank holidays in May. It's great, because you can use the first one for a sleep-in and the second to have a holiday.

Thus, Lucy and I headed to Scotland for three days. It was my second trip, and her first, and we were determined to make the most of it.

We arrived near midnight to a hostel that smelled of wet washing and was full of long term residents. My bunk was decorated with family photos of one Australian woman who was in Romania for the week (lucky me). Lucy was assigned a bunk at the top of the world - with no rail around it to stop one plummeting to the floor.

It won't surprise you at all to learn we both slept rather badly and were very keen to get going in the morning.

Lucy was to spend the day with a friend of ours who lived in Aberdeen, so she wandered off to the train station whilst I made my way down to meet my coach tour to Stirling and the Trossachs.

I have always been lucky with my tours, in that people are friendly and I make some good random connections. However, this group all kept very much to themselves. So, I just cranked up the music (Tegan and Sara) and settled in for a day of countryside.

From Edinburgh, we drove west through Glasgow to the Trossachs and Loch Lomond. I have already been to Loch Ness and it has spoiled me for all other Scottish water. Although, I must admit that Loch Lomond looked very pleasant:


So, not wanting to be underwhelmed with comparisons to my previous Loch Ness excursion, I left the rest of the group to their ferry trip and opted to explore the tiny town of Balloch instead. It probably would have taken just twenty minutes to see the whole place, but I spent twice that in the queue at the Post Office.

By the time I had finished composing witty epistles, the ferry had returned and we plied onwards to Aberfoyle for lunch. There wasn't much to recommend the town, but a falconry display beside the tourist office gave me the chance to touch a snowy baby owl. You would not believe how warm he is to the touch:


After sushi as bad as you'd expect in the middle of a national park, we headed up into the hills for some gorgeous views. Scotland is the only place I have been that I think is anywhere near as pretty as New Zealand. And this trip has confirmed it. Check out that sky:


The area was made famous in Walter Scott's romantic poetry, and some of the views must be the same as they were in the early 1800s. Like this rather beautiful holiday home:


The Trossachs National Park goes for miles and miles, and there are lochs within that I think I must have been on the other side of when I went to Loch Ness. The beauty is quite haunting, and I don't think it is too surprising that there are so many poems and legends about this area. Even a cattle thief like Raibeart Ruadh (born at Loch Katrine) turns into mystical Rob Roy at the hands of Daniel Defoe, Sir Walter Scott and the Wordsworths.

I just sat back and watched the loveliness unfold. It was very soothing and I found myself happily pondering life.

Again, I opted out of the standard tourist activity by foregoing Stirling Castle to instead wander down into the town for a better look. There some lovely old stones built into the slopes up to the Castle, and quite a lot of statues to poets, kings and heroes. I saw a weird monument to William Wallace that had him decked out as a roman warrior, toga and all. Even the inevitable Marks and Spencers, McDs and Primarks of the town centre didn't stop the place feeling medieval and fun. But, time was short, and the steep walk back up to the Castle threatened to leave me bus-less.

Fortunately, the rest of my group were utter dawdlers and they overstayed in the Castle by quite a bit. I had enough time to sit peacably in the sun and look around. The William Wallace Memorial seemed tantalisingly close on a nearby hilltop:


But, by the time everyone else emerged, I was more than ready to return to Edinburgh and find out how Lucy's trip had been.

A straightforward journey got me in by 7pm. But, a series of travel misadventures meant Captain Wheeler wasn't to arrive until 11pm. Having had an early start, we were actually pretty grateful for our soft and smelly beds. It's amazing the difference a day makes!