An Experience of Edinburgh
- Nov 21, 2016
- 14 min read
The last weekend of October was travel weekend at Capernwray. Since the school provided a coach to Edinburgh, that was where most students –including me- went. It was a truly magical experience and I can’t imagine the weekend going any better. For the purposes of simplicity, let’s introduce the cast of characters up front:
Emily: Me!
Esther: Dark-headed one kneeling in front. The grand-high chairwoman of transportation. She figured out almost all the bus and taxi stuff.
Natalie: The one in the very center. The street-smart one. Most likely to respond to getting mugged by punching the assailant’s lights out.
Kenzie: The one next to me. I can't think of a nickname or catchphrase for her just now, but I STILL LOVE YOU KENZ!
Josie: Dark-headed one who is not kneeling. Country girl who handles cities remarkably well.
Julia: The blonde that you can barely see peeking out from behind. Luna Lovegood in real life, also, queen of hairstyling.
The guys, whom we met up with on many of our adventures:
Harrison (blue plaid shirt)
Braedan (can barely be seen behind Harrison)
Noah (kneeling in front)
And occasionally Nathanael and James, whose adventures sometimes intertwined with ours.
Friday Morning
The first adventure started before we even set off, in that when the bus driver got on the bus, I couldn’t help but notice that he looked like he was about 12 years old. Since I like people and things that are attended by a happy air of disaster, I just smiled a small smile at the thought of his probable inexperience and enjoyed the ride. He only ended up driving us about 5 miles away from the school, then remembered he wasn’t legally allowed to transport so many people, and he switched out with a burly middle aged man who blared pop music the whole trip and danced along to every song on the radio. He and the burly middle aged man driving the other bus amused themselves during the trip by flipping each other off in their rear view mirrors. Classy. Esther and I spent the trip watching the first act of A Very Potter Musical, which is exactly as beautiful and ridiculous as it sounds.
Friday Afternoon
We arrived in Edinburgh on Friday afternoon, and took a cab like the adults we are to our Airbnb. It was a charming little cottage about 20 minutes out of the city. The lady who owned it was very nice and gracious, which was good, because it was a cottage meant for four people, and somehow there ended up being six of us. I slept on the 2-person couch all weekend, and it was just uncomfortable enough that I never fell into a deep enough sleep to make me groggy in the morning. It was amazing. I’ve never felt so alive.
I think we all know the first place you have to go when you’re in Scotland. That’s right: Costco. We walked to the one about a mile from our cottage, and stocked up on groceries for the weekend, despite the fact that if you’re only getting groceries for 3 days, you don’t have to buy anything in bulk. On the plus side, I did finally find a sack of tea bags big enough to suit my needs.
Another thing we didn’t think through was that we would have to trek a mile back to the cottage with multiple Costco boxes full of various foods, which included two jugs of milk and an enormous Nutella jar made of the thickest glass in the kingdom. I don’t know if you’ve ever carried a heavy cardboard box any sort of distance, but I’m telling you now to avoid it at all costs, because, like sleeping on an airplane, there is no good way to do it. On a lighter note, we passed by some boys doing a drug deal on our way home, but I of course missed it, because when I saw a group of teenage boys, my first instinct was to avoid eye-contact in case they tried to cat-call me. Just think, had I not been so quick to judge, I might have been able to purchase some lovely cocaine for a real bargain. That’ll teach me.
Friday Evening
After the groceries had been purchased, we took the bus back into the city, and after a bit of wandering through the streets, we found a delicious pub called the Auld Hundred, which was fancy and delicious. I got a steak pie, and because Julia is an intrepid adventurer, she got haggis, which I took a miniscule bite of, just to say I had. It wasn’t awful, but for some reason sheep intestines encased in sheep lung is just not something I’m super excited about. After dinner, we wandered the city for a bit and marvelled at Edinburgh Castle, which is majestically positioned on a great slab of rock overlooking the city. It’s one of those things you can never get tired of looking at.
And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.
Saturday Morning
We met up with the guys for Saturday brunch at a café inside Jenner’s, a department store which was gorgeous and fancy and decorated for Christmas.
We were surrounded by rich elderly people, who were clearly looking down their noses at this ragtag band of American and Canadian youths with their backpacks and strange accents. I don’t think Esther, Julia and I helped our image by each grabbing a handful of sugar packets on our way out and stuffing them in our purses, but we didn’t have any sugar at the cottage, and gosh-dang it, it was free. I only have so much pride.
Our next adventure was going to the top of the Walter Scott memorial.
There are about 280 steps to the top, and because we’re all a bit mad, James, Nathanael, Josie, Harrison, Noah and I decided that we would make this climb. Here’s what the stairs looked like:
You’d walk up about 50 at a time before reaching the next level and being able to escape into the open air. I am not a claustrophobic person, but something about going in endless circles, seeing only tunnel in front of you, never knowing whether the end is near meant even I was low-key panicking at times. But because I’m a freakin’ weirdo, I kind of enjoy forcing myself to cope with scary situations, so it was all good in the hood. The worst part, however, was when you would meet people coming down the stairs while you were going up the stairs, and you had to somehow squeeze past each other. I got closer to some middle-aged male strangers that day than I ever want to be again. Anyway, the views were spectacular, and the sense of triumph I felt once I got to the top was worth every hardship.
Saturday Afternoon
After safely wending our way back down to the bottom of the monument, we went on a bus tour of the city, and got off at Edinburgh Castle, which is basically a small town inside a giant wall, and just as magical inside as it is outside. We visited the castle’s war museum, where the best exhibit was by far a gas mask with a bullet hole in the forehead. My favourite attraction in the castle, though, was the dank, musty prisons. I already have a list of people who will be sent there when I rule the world. But first, all my friends and I are having a slumber party there, because it is a rockin’ place.
Another cool place we visited inside the castle was the war memorial. I wasn’t allowed to take pictures in there, but I wish I could have, because there was this one stained glass window with a dude on it that looked exactly like Ganondorf from Legend of Zelda. I think it was supposed to be the devil, but good gracious, the resemblance was so strong that it was all I could do not to snap a photo. I did sneak one picture, because I was flipping through a book of fallen Scottish soldiers during the Second World War and I found this:
(John McGuire is my dad’s name, for those who don’t know my family. Don’t worry, my dad is actually very much alive. Also, we are descended from the McGuires of Ireland anyway.)
After sneaking this picture in a very reverent and respectful manner, I heard a disapproving “tsk, tsk” noise, and turned to see an older lady giving me a pious eyebrow raise. At least she didn’t turn me over to the authorities.
Saturday Evening
Because we didn’t feel that climbing to the top of the Walter Scott monument was sufficient exercise for the day, Josie, Harrison and I joined up with a big group of Capernwray folks to hike up to Arthur’s Seat. Like on every other mountain climbing expedition I’ve ever been on, I almost died, but then I got to the top and felt like a total boss.
At the top of the hill was a mysterious bird-feeding man surrounded by ravens (life goals). Because Nathanael is more socially fearless than I can ever imagine being, he went over to the bird man to learn his secrets. He was an ornithologist, I think. Then Nathanael told him about Jesus, and it was all very cool. I also saw Allie and Jen, two of my room mates, for the first time in just over 24 hours, and it was a reunion befitting friends who had not seen each other in years.
When I saw my other roommate, Sophie, the next day, I almost cried. Time during the Capernwray experience moves 100 times slower than it does in the rest of the world, so it felt like we had been apart for ages.
On the bus home that night, I could hear bagpipes playing. “Of course you did, Emily, its Scotland.” No. There were no bagpipes for miles around. It was just that I had heard so many bagpipers playing on street corners that day that they had invaded the inner sanctum of my mind, and for the rest of the night the distant sound of non-existent bagpipes rang in my ears.
And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.
Sunday Morning
If Saturday was sights, then Sunday was experiences. This was the day from which all of our finest stories came. I know you are hoping this section of the blog will say something like, “We went to a Scottish church and were instructed in the ways of the Lord and all was right and proper and peace came unto the land,” but because we are the worst of all sinners, we actually set aside Sunday morning as our time to go to a place called the Edinburgh Dungeons. More on that later, but if you’re thinking, “That sounds like the exact opposite of church,” you would be correct. We did, however, have a man approach us on the bus into the city who invited us to his church. We politely declined, slipping into the conversation the fact that we were Bible school students, so he would be at ease about our salvation, and he went on his merry way. Just out of curiosity after he left, Esther looked up his church, Destiny Church, on google, and 90% of the search results came back as “Destiny Church Edinburgh Cult”. So that was fun. Better to skip church one Sunday than to end up charming snakes, right?
So anyway, back to the Edinburgh Dungeons. It was a sort of historical haunted house, were you went to various rooms and a scary actor would tell you a morbid, dark story from Scotland’s history. For those of you who are flipping back through my blog posts to find the one where I made a solemn vow in 2012 to never enter a haunted house ever again: yeah, I know. I’m an idiot. And I didn’t even do it for a cute boy.
The first room was a dimly lit 18th century style court room. We all sat in benches and an actor dressed as a judge stood in one of those pulpit-looking things and accused various members of the audience of various crimes. It was a bit scary right at the beginning, because he burst into the room with a terrific shout, and I’m very susceptible to anything surprising, but after that, it ended up just being a really amusing lesson on historical Scottish crime and punishment. Even so, when it ended and the time came for us to descend deeper into the dungeons, I made sure that I was holding onto one or two brave friends quite firmly at all times. The next room was a set up like a torture chamber, and that bit was a trifle disturbing, but mostly fine. Next, there was a little movie clip telling about some cannibal dude who sent his cannibal children to catch victims and drag them back to his lair. Keep in mind that this is all supposed to be true. As if we needed any more fodder for our fear. Anyway, we were sent to go catch this cannibal –not that we had any choice in the matter- which meant getting on a boat and sailing into seemingly never ending darkness. While we glided through the eternal darkness, strange, seaweed like tendrils that hung from the ceiling brushed against our heads, and the sound of creepy children’s voices rang out on every side. But I swear, that as Natalie and I clung to each other with eyes closed, I experienced the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. That whole, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, thou art with me,” thing was real relevant just then. But I digress.
We got off the boat, and entered the cannibals den. And that, my friends was the last straw. Poor Kenzie, who had been in tears for sheer terror the entire time, but bravely pressing onward, just couldn’t take it anymore, so we escaped through the fire exit. I’m actually quite glad we got out when we did, because although I was still technically okay at that point, I was right at the threshold of my fear capacity, and if the next part of the dungeon were any worse, I probably would have died. The only problem was that, when Kenzie, Julia and I left through the fire escape, we thought the other 3 girls had followed. What we didn’t realize was that they thought the plan was to wait until the actor playing the cannibal had finished his scene, and ask him for help. However, going back into the dungeon was not really an option for us at this point, so we left them behind (don’t worry, they were the three brave ones) and travelled on through the staff-only hallways until we found our way outside. About five minutes later, a man with a walkie-talkie sees us and says, “Oh good, there you are.” Apparently the other 3 girls had no idea where we had gone, and basically there was an armada of staff trying to track us down, so that was fun. During the entire cannibal scene, Esther had been looking at the actor dude with a pleading expression in her eyes, and as soon as he finished his scene and the rest of the group began to move deeper into the dungeon, this 6’3” emaciated looking, terrifying cannibal whipped off his dreadlock wig and said, with deep concern, “Are you guys ok?” He then led the charge to find us, with the Esther, Natalie and Josie in his wake, and if that is not a beautiful story, then I don’t know what is. In the end, we were reunited, and they gave us comp tickets for our trouble, some of which Esther ended up selling to a random lady for 50 Hong-Kong dollars.
We spent the rest of the morning up on Calton Hill, where there are many beautiful monuments, and a spectacular view of the city.
Sunday Afternoon
We then met up with the guys and had some delicious burgers at a magical pub. Afterwards, we all bought desserts at a french bakery we had been eyeing since Friday, and picnicked in a beautiful park, seating amongst the multi-colored trees, with the castle standing high above us on the cliff. If I ever have a need to go to my happy place, this is where my mind will go.
Sunday Evening
After lunch, the original plan was for us all to go close-hopping (closes are little alley ways) because Edinburgh is known for its charming closes. However, despite Josie-the-anti-feline’s attempts to conceal it from her, Esther gained knowledge of a café full of cats which was nearby, and as we didn’t have time to do both close-hopping and the cat café, the time came for our paths to diverge. Josie and the guys went close hopping, and the rest of us headed for the cat café. It was a hard choice for me, because I really wanted to do both, but fortunately we ended up having to go through a close to get to the area of town where the café was, and we explored another later that night, so I felt assuaged on that account. I did not, however, end up feeling assuaged on the cat café account, because when we arrived, we discovered that it was all booked up for the rest of the day and we could not gain entry! I have never seen such devastation and longing as I saw on the faces of Esther and Julia, the most ardent cat lovers of the group, as they stared through the window at the undeserving wretches who were playing with the cat they would never get to pet.
We left the café, our hearts heavy and our tread slow, and then distracted ourselves from our pain with souvenir shopping. We went to a magical marketplace inside an old church, and I bought a beautiful drawing of Edinburgh, and Kenzie bought a cute little fairy door ornament. It was only after purchasing it that she noticed it was inscribed with the words, “Tipsy the Wine Fairy”. Soon after, we decided it was time to go home. As we sat waiting at the bus stop, Esther and Natalie went across the street to Starbucks to look for gift cards, and arrived back at the bus stop exactly 1 minute after the bus had come and gone. Our vexation at them was short-lived however, because if we had made it onto the first bus, we never would have met Mark and Mags. Mark and Mags were a middle-aged Scottish couple who were by no means drunk, but neither was their blood-alcohol content level zero at that time. They came and joined us at the bus stop a few minutes after the first bus had left, and after overhearing our conversation, asked us if we were American, and where we were all from in the states. They then declared that they had been to New York City, which is nowhere near where any of us live, but they probably thought it was, and who were we to shatter their happy illusion. We then somehow found ourselves discussing celebrities, Mags sang some Britney Spears lyrics, and upon the mention of Kim Kardashian, Mark declared with great passion, “I f***ing hate her!” Soon after, Mags turned to Natalie and said, “You look like what’s-her-name!”
“Taylor Swift?” I suggested, because Natalie so much like Taylor Swift that she’s had to hide from fangirling 13 year olds before, and Mags is only the 5612th person to spot this resemblance. Mags declared that yes indeed, this was exactly who Natalie looked like, and then told Mark to take a picture of her with “Taylor Swift and her squad.” From start to finish, this interaction was accompanied by slightly bewildered laughter from all of us girls, who had no idea quite what was happening to us but were enjoying it immensely nonetheless. Much too soon, the bus arrived and we went our separate ways, Mags giving Esther a friendly pat on the bum as we left. We were less well-treated once we actually got on the bus. There were two young boys (the younger one couldn’t have been older than 12) sitting at the back of the bus, and they were making a great commotion, but they had such thick Scottish accents that I couldn’t tell if they were harassing us, or just had a mild form of Tourette’s Syndrome. Either way, the solution was to ignore them. As you might have guessed, they were harassing us. After they got off the bus (flipping off the man sitting behind us for no good reason on their way out) he other girls told me some of the phrases they had managed to understand, and none of them, I’m afraid, are things which are appropriate to write down. Still, it’s all part and parcel of the public transportation experience, eh?
And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.
Monday Morning
We left the city around 10:30 on Monday morning, after stopping by a food truck to get Nutella crepes for breakfast. I was in one of those impossibly happy moods where you are feeling so good that you could kiss a stranger, but of course I wouldn’t because I’m a good Christian girl. But you know what I mean. It had been a practically perfect weekend, and I’ll always look back on it with the utmost fondness.
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