Day 3 in Edinburgh was the day we officially over-did it.
Since I still felt disgusting from the Fish and Chips, I was not up for a big breakfast. We went to a little Italian coffee shop. Hubby had coffee and I had some really good hot chocolate. The biscotti were great as well. Just what I needed. (Although they did get my order wrong the first time. I thought that glass looked a little talk for a hot chocolate. Turned out to be a latte. OOPS!)
We walk up to Calton hill (where I spotted the lost cat in the picspam) and then past it, heading for the American Consulate. I was hoping they’d be really nice and help me out with the passport issue, but they basically refused to even talk to me and told me I’d have to deal with the Consulate in London. Then we walked through Regent Park and down to The Palace of Holyroodhouse, (the official residence in Scotland of Her Majesty The Queen.)
We toured the Palace and the Abbey and had a walk through the Gardens. Much less crowded than the Castle, but it really pays to do both in order to get a full sense of Scotland’s history and the incredibly complex relationship between England and Scotland.
To complete the picture, we crossed the street and went to the Scottish parliament building, which is big and ugly and extremely modern. Pretty much like saying: IN YOUR FACE, QUEEN! You do have to love a building that has a sculpture of the head of Robert Burns done in match heads.
Then we walked back through Regents Park to Calton Hill, which we climbed and looked at various monuments, including Nelson’s Monument. We climbed about 142 steps of that! My legs were not happy, but the views were incredible and the wind was whipping around like crazy. Very exhilarating. Insert your own unsubtle orgasm metaphor her, especially considering the somewhat phallic appearance of the structure. I came down from there feeling all windswept and giddy. It was really an amazing experience.
All downhill after that. Literally. We went down the hill and back to the hotel. I spotted a poster for what I’m pretty sure was the same cat we’d seen earlier in the day. Those markings were very distinctive. I hope the cat and its owner have been reunited.
We had a bunch of STUFF to try and sort out at the hotel.
For instance my computer…Hubby had tried to get a bunch of pictures onto my laptop, but managed to put the MP disk in the DVD drive and then got it jammed in even deeper with his newly purchased Sgian Dubh, (pronounced Skee(a)n doo) the knife one traditionally wears in the sock with a kilt.
My computer worked, but obviously we wanted to get the photo card out of it. I googled "PC Repair Edinburgh" and sent an email to the first one that came up.
I also emailed the US Consulate in London for an appointment the following week to deal with the passport issues.
I tried to get T-Mobile to give us international service on the Cell Phones, but that was going to take more time than we had just then, because I’d been checking schedules to get us set up for another night tour.
We bundled up and went back to Sandy Bells because hubby had managed to leave his glasses there the night before. Then we went for dinner at Wee Windaes, for our first “traditional” Scottish meal. I went with soup and starters: Cock-a-Leekie soup and Haggis Neeps & Tatties. YUMMY!
We did some walking on the lower part of the Royal Mile and then got on the Gallows To Graveyard Tour. This was one of Mercat Tours, and was let by an “in character” tourguide named “Hetty McHatty” who walked us mostly around the Mile and into some of the closes and told stories about murders and hangings with a few ghosts thrown in.
She was good, but my legs and back were really starting to go and it got brutally cold. By the time we finished up in Canongate Churchyard, I had two pairs of cashmere gloves on and my hands were still freezing and pretty much every bit of me hurt.
Once the tour was done, we went to a bar, which I think was also called Canongate for coffee/hot chocolate and some of the BEST ginger cake I have ever tasted. Then we limped back to the hotel for our last night of luxury.
I got back on-line with T-Mobile and managed to get the international service put on our cellphones.
The computer repair guy had sent back an email telling us to coming in around 10AM.
The British Consulate in London sent me back an email about applying for a passport that had absolutely NO BEARING on my situation whatsoever. I sent them back one outlining the situation AGAIN and BEGGING for someone to help us.
Then we crashed, leaving a wake-up call for 8:00AM.