Still looking right.

Well, here we are again... walking on the left side of the road. This time the adventure (misadventure?) begins in Edinburgh, Scotland. It's a happy consequence of my presenting in Alisha Farris's stead at the ISBNPA 2015 conference. Grad school is hard.

Luckily for me and my pitiful skinny wallet, my parents decided to join after much persuasion. No, I'm absolutely serious. I answered my mom's "wouldn't a grad school friend like to go with you?" with hysterical laughter. Ain't no grad student got money for that. Few grad students have money for A/C *raises hand* or heating above 55 degrees, depending on how generous my landlord is.

To fully appreciate the Scotland 2015 experience, we must first start with the departure. Welcome to the circus. The days counting down were filled with "do you have your passport?", "I checked the weather.. it's supposed to rain", "bring your umbrellas home", "can I carry this on?", "what about this?", "this?", *rummages through every closet in the house* "this? or this?"

And then there was the measuring tape.

The measurements, in case you were wondering, are posted for carry on items and personal items. Yes, every one of our bags was measured approximately 354 times. At least. And then a few more times as we marched out the door. My mother actually carried the measuring tape with her on her closet hunt. As we walked into the airport she holds up her very small personal bag (the only bag she carried on) and said "do you think this is okay?" Face, meet palm.

Flights were uneventful as flights generally are and we'd like to keep that way. Aside from the agonizingly long taxi period on both flights, they were almost pleasant. We even got food. (WHAT?! I know, right?) Flights don't shell out for food anymore. It was 100% airplane food, as about half was edible. If you pinched your nose and held your breath and abstained from chewing.

Arriving in Edinburgh, we stiffly shuffled our American behinds to the customs counter where I met a fellow ISBNPA attendee from Delaware named Daphne I believe. No strangers allowed.

Finding a bus was a fiasco of the comical sort. Imagine herding cats after chucking them into a bag and then putting them on a tilt-o-whirl. Put blindfolds on them and let them out. THEN try to herd them while spraying them with a squirt gun. That's us in a nutshell. We finally found our bus which got us to Waverly station where this map holder got us to Radisson Blu where we dropped off our bags, changed in the lobby (remember, we're classy), and ate some overpriced porridge (oatmeal).

The waitress asks my mom "would you like berries?"
Mom replies with a strange look on her face "BETTIES?"
Waitress: "Uhhhhh berries."
I interjected with "mom, she said BERRIES"
Mom: "ohhhhhhh.... yes...?"
Waitress gives pained smile and slowly backs away.

This is normal.

Stromachs full, wallet empty, and caffeine system fueled, we started to walk the Royal Mile. We headed towards the Edinburgh Castle (think Braveheart) but took a quick detour to St. Giles Cathedral, a beautiful high-ceiling cathedral choc full of stained glass and holy socks. No, I'm not joking.

Debating something I'm sure

I guess I've been missing out.

Walking itself is a hilarity. Mom is cold because the wind is blowing at speeds that would make a parasailer's dream and the temperature is colder than what Georgia folks can manage. So mom puts on her hood, dad helps by pulling the hood strings which gives mom the Eskimo look. From my right I hear "I CAN'T SEE!" as we're bumbling down the street. Also normal. 

Just outside a few steps away we found the heart that Rick Steve's wrote about and shared with us via mom (tour guide). This heart marks the spot where criminals were hanged, traitors were decapitated, and "witches" were burned at the stake. So sweet.

The custom is to spit on this.

And then we continued walking, weaving and catching dad as he wandered off. We stopped in the entry way after passing the guards that looked more than enthusiastic about standing in 30+ mph winds outside the gates. We admired the two statues of Bruce and William Wallace and entered into the main street, absorbing the glorious windswept views of Arthur's Seat (mountain) and the surrounds.

The tagline reads something to the effect of "no one messes with me and gets away with it"

Seeing a crowd gathered in the main square, we did what all curious (nosy) humans do and stopped to stare. Turns out we were treated to a celebration of the 62nd anniversary of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II's coronation. Pretty spiffy. There were bagpipes and everything.

21 cannon fires will give one with a camera time to figure out the perfect moment to take the shot

Then we tackled that castle like we were in the amazing race. We have been in every museum that that castle offers. Every. Single. Nook. And. Cranny. At least the wind wasn't blowing in there.

Side note: My face is severely wind burnt. But is was worth it: the castle itself is amazing... and full of history. There were cannons, chapels, prisons, dance halls, birthing rooms (you read correctly: Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to James VI here), and prison chambers.

We would have been great at shooting off cannons.

Matt did say he wanted a fireplace...

Inside St. Margaret's Chapel

Braveheart himself... glass edition

We even got to sneak a peak at the Scottish sword of state, sceptre, Crown and stone of destiny. Yes, it is called the stone of destiny. Apparently that was the "seat" that kings sat on for their crowning. And I stared at them, the real things.

The POW area was one of the most fascinating to me. Apparently us "rebel" 'mericans are not liked too well over there and are considered pirates. We got fewer rations than everyone else: 1 pound of bread per day. I guess that's what we get for carving the stars and stripes into the prison door.

Stupid (pale) 'Mericans

"Look! This jail cell comes with a closet!"

The great hall was lined with swords and armor, each used for a different task. One spear with a terrifying looking hook on the end was used for yanking horse-riders out of their saddles to the ground. I have enough issues staying on without that, thanks. These people were vicious.

Yikes.

I got my hand at holding and "shooting" (pulling the trigger) of a huge musket-type-big-gun-thing and it actually wasn't as heavy as I was expecting.

Shooting the wall. Pretty sure it's taller than I am.

There were official guards everywhere, outside of almost every building.

Scotsman really like their kilts.

Outside... a museum! *shock* But this one had ponies. PONIES.

We're friends.

Weary feet and tired brains, we meandered back down the hill to the hotel. En route to hotel room (read bed and hot tea) we saw some fascinating things.

People of Walmart is missing one.

We dropped dad off in the hotel room who fell asleep in 2 minutes. Mom and I headed back out, running on adrenaline and caffeine. Mom went on a hunt for John Knox's burial space. In a parking lot. So I hestinately followed my mother as she zoomed behind sketchy buildings in the hunt for a parking spot... and she found it.

Spot has been found. I admit I was very skeptical.

On mom and I's little adventure back out into the wind tunnel we ran into Sarah Guppy, who was promoting her book called Edinburgh Shorts which are dark little tales about the city. She asked before delivering the sales speech "are you open-minded?" Umm.. sure?

How I feel after our flights today. And getting assaulted by the wind. And being tired.

I belong in the Shire.

Mom also can't figure out the key card electric outlet thing, where she has pulled the card out every time which has turned off the lights in the room each time. Dad needed help figuring out how the shower worked and internet too. It's. A. Circus.

This sums up our trip so far...