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Published: November 3rd 2008
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Royal Mile, from the Castle
The huge blackened spire on the right belongs to a decommissioned church which is now used as the headquarters for the organisers of the Festival. Song in my head: I Am Over It by the Dandy Warhols. On repeat. Arriving in a strange place at night isn't the best thing for morale. It had been a tough day, and although I was excited to be in the Scottish capital, after traipsing from the bus station to the hostel I wasn't at my sunniest. Getting in so late meant I had no chance for a bed in a small room, and had to settle for the largest mixed dorm - not the ideal when you just want to sleep, but at least there was WiFi!
The next morning I scrambled out the door to join the
free walking tour. For over three hours our hyperactive guide led us around Edinburgh, pointing out important landmarks, describing historic events and not forgetting to bring up any gruesome tale he could think of.
It was an extremely good tour, covering a large part of the old city. We walked up the Royal Mile to the
castle, then down the steps to the West Bow, where a pair of nineteenth century murderers did brisk business selling their victims' bodies to the medical school. We visited Greyfriars Kirk, home of the
Edinburgh Castle
from the south side steps, descending to the West Bow. faithful
Greyfriars Bobby, and shivered at the sight of the mausoleums with huge iron bars affixed above and around - to keep the dead contained, since grave-robbers were rife. The bars must have worked - it is estimated that there are more bodies in the Greyfriars Kirkyard than there are people living in Edinburgh today!
We wound up across the bridge in the Princes Gardens, and were entertained to the last with the story of the Stone of Scone. I spent the afternoon in Edinburgh Castle, admiring the Scots Honours, (including
the Stone of Destiny itself), Mons Meg the enormous cannon, St Margaret's Chapel, the Dog Cemetery, the weapon lined Great Hall, the Royal Apartments and Scotland's war memorial.
Though the day had been jam-packed and I had lists of things and places still to see, it wasn't the best of evenings. Any thought of going out was wiped from my mind by a pounding headache, and I sat limply on my bed waiting my turn for a shower, writing up my day and trying to decide my next step. Then the noises started... loud, wet, rhythmic noises, coming from the bathroom. (Oh, seriously, bathrooms inside dorm rooms are a bad idea!)
William Wallace window
In St Margaret's Chapel, Edinburgh Castle. At first I was shocked, but surprise quickly turned into rage - the guy knew I was just outside! We'd smiled at each other when I came into the room! Gross!
It was Friday night, and everyone else was out partying. Being the only one in the room, I couldn't gauge my reactions against anyone else's. I knew the hostel was too full to allow for switching rooms. I'd just got in and didn't want to leave again. I was tired, I was mad. What do you DO in a situation like that?
I plugged in my earphones, and turned the volume way up. The door opened, and I tried not to look as the guy I had been condemning walked out... and laid his freshly washed socks over the heater to dry.
Well, that'll teach me and my overactive imagination!
My general bad mood, coupled with the fact my bus pass would run out in just two days, made the decision easy. Time to get as far as I could, then rest. I left Edinburgh early the next morning on a bus bound for Glasgow, vowing that I would return one day and do justice
The old and the new
Looking south over Edinburgh from the Castle walls. to the city. It was just a short hop to Glasgow, and in no time at I was walking along Sauchiehall Street, in the heart of the CDB. I had no hostel booking, so I hedged my bets by heading to an area with three listings.
Note to weary travellers: Glasgow is much, much bigger than it looks on your map! My ten minute walk turned out to be nearer forty, and my pack had never felt heavier, but there was a bed at the end of it, and free internet too (although the girl at reception didn't know the wireless password and I had to take the cable out of one of the PCs to gain access on my laptop.)
After some frenzied burning of photo-discs, I ventured out, but feeling fragile and not enjoying the sulky grey sky, soon trotted straight into Cineworld. A mid-afternoon screening of
Ratatouille proved to be just what I needed.
Refreshed, I wandered around the huge grey squares in the gigantic shopping district, then hunted out St Andrew's Cathedral down by the river for an evening service. On the walk back I told myself it was okay that I didn't
The grave of Greyfriars Bobby
Except... it isn't. He was a dog, and therefore could not be buried in the Kirkyard! like Glasgow, okay that I hadn't even taken any pictures of the city, and okay that I had become a sight-seer with a complete disinterest in seeing the sights. I made myself as comfortable as possible in the hostel I had come to realise was A Very Bad Choice, and added Glasgow to the list of places I must one day return to and see properly. And then I set my alarm for 6am, so I could be back at the bus station for the morning's National Express to Inverness.
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