I woke at daybreak (alas 4 a.m.); Will at 5 a.m.  and we finally had to rouse Gramma and Bops at 7:15 as Will and I headed down to an amazing breakfast buffet. (Don’t worry, Rick, it wasn’t the breakfast buffet of a lifetime. But still really good.)

Our first stop as we walked up the Royal Mile toward Edinburgh Castle was St. Giles Cathedral, the heart of the city since like 800 AD. Inside, above the din of a organ recital, a volunteer guide named Norman Bryson (son of Bruce, “son” is a lowland naming device, “mac” is a Highland term, also meaning son), told us about the history of the cathedral and the artifacts therein. It was a virtual tour of Scottish religious and political history, and including entertaining tale of an extremely obese King George IV being persuaded by none other than Sir Walter Scott to don a sail-size kilt and pink stockings to cover his ugly legs.  Among the more fascinating tales, he showed us one of the 7 surviving copies of the Scottish National Covenant, which basically told the English King to buzz off and keep church and state separate. (And Rehan, pardon me if I get the facts wrong!) Well, our old friend Thomas Jefferson apparently studied under a Scotsman named Blair, who was at William and Mary College. Jefferson and Blair became close friends and Jefferson learned all about Scottish history and this document — hence we owe some of the ideas in the Declaration of Independence  — and even some language in the preamble — to these Scottish clergy. Fascinating.

We then ventured up to the Castle, where I experienced my first major failure as a tour guide — not buying the tickets in advance on-line. So Ma patiently waited in the unexpected hot sun for 45 minutes to get us tickets. We saw a bagpiper; a dog cemetery for soldier’s pets; the king’s crown and sword; a chapel dating back to the 12th century. Mother’s favorite site was the huge cannon Mons Meg, a gigantic cannon capable of shooting a cannon 330 pounds almost 2 miles. No wonder it exploded in 1681.

We then ate another fabulous meal at the Royal Museum of Scotland — we gotta stop this — and quickly toured the museum. We saw the famous Lewis Chessmen, wonderful Pictish stone carvings — so beautiful — Roman sculptures, a steam engine, tartain battlegear, you name it.

We then plodded through a rainstorm to catch a tourist bus for a 1-hour tour, getting tired now, and hit a whisky shop to score a bottle for Bops, who was already back at the hotel.

Tomorrow, we’re off to the countryside — a castle or two, a distillery or two, and a hair-raising driving moment or two, I’m sure. Wish us luck!