Edinburgh

We made it to Auld Reekie.

Edinburgh's nickname doesn't come from the smell of the American tourists wearin the same pants for days. It actually means old smokey, an original smoggy city from coal fires used to heat buildings. It blackened the sandstone that built the 7-9 story midevil sky scrapers.

If we didn't read the news, we might have thought that Edinburgh's nickname is Yes because there are yes signs everywhere. I got the impression that Scottish independence supporters were more vocal but not more numerous. A rally in the center seemed to be sparsely attended, but included a communist party booth. Not sure if appeals to the mainstream voter. 

The referendum takes place September 18. I have no opinion either way but I really can't figure it out. The few things I remember from this week is that Scotland's king united the crowns and Elizabeth, Harry and Will are his decendants. 

Moving right along.... You may think we came to Edinburgh to pay homage to the original free markets thinker (and critic), Adam Smith. And here we are at the grave of Tom Riddell.

The real Tom Riddle is better known as Voldermort, but his non-wizard name was chosen right here in Greyfriars Kirkyard. It is in the shadow of a private school with students divided amongst four houses, each with their own tower. If you're not a Harry Potter fan, nothing to see here. 

While Smith isn't buried in Greyfriars a really cute dog is. He slept at his owners grave from age 2 to 16. The city loved Bobby the Dog so much they made an exception to the discriminatory "no dogs" rule at Greyfriars.

We learned about Bobby on our walking tour. We also learned that there wasn't much of a prison population problem here since people were sentenced to death for most crimes, including concealing pregnancy. Yeah a lady was hanged for that, but she woke up in her coffin after being pronounced dead and having therefore satisfied her legal punishment. It didn't work that way for most.

While there weren't many prisoners around, the lack of modern sewage ensured a surplus of butt clusters, which families kept in a bucket until they were tossed out the window. After what I'm sure was a fierce debate, the city council brought Edinburgh into the moden era by requiring all crap clusters to be tossed at either 7AM or 10 PM accompanied by a shout of "guardiloo". For unknown reasons, this system was replaced in the mid 1800s. 

And there's more. Allegedly, the pubs would close around 10 PM and the best sloppiest pedestrians would instinctively look up upon hearing the shouts of "guardiloo". Apparently we all must take some time out of our day to thank the Scottish for the phrase "shit-faced drunk".

There are other appetizing things in Scotland. We all know haggis, which has all the meat that nobody would eat in any form other than hot dog. The Edinburgh Larder where we ate breakfast only had veggie haggis despite being a larder in Edinburgh. Worked for me.

We went to St. Giles which was a beautiful and historic place for me to sit down.

Lots of history there and the castle, which was never taken by force. The castle has a gun that fires once a day at one o'clock. The whole world sets there clocks at noon but not the Scottish. Why not? Because that would cost twelve times as much. I may only have a little Scot in my blood, but it runs strong. 

For the full Scottish experience though, you've got to rent a car and head to the countryside. And if you really want to rub elbows with the local, there's no better way than blowing a tire and going to a Kwik Fix. There's nothing like the temporary local experience. 

Despite our pit stop, we still made it to Anstruther for the best fish and chips. (Period.)