Castle, Crown Jewels, and Vertigo . . .

I should tell you a wee bit about my day on the Royal Mile. I got to Edinburgh Castle just after the 1PM cannon sounded and set off with a tour group to get the main dish on the 11th century castle built into a gigantic rock that is the result of volcanic activity and the ice age millions of years ago. I was glad to have a good gortex jacket and an umbrella, as the rain misted us for most of it. After having a deer burger (real Scottish food!),I explored the room where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to her only son, King James VI, and I saw the Crown Jewels, which were breathtaking. The castle also had the Scottish War Museum and a memorial to all her soldiers who fought in all wars. I found a Shields in WW 2 and wondered if he is related at all to my great grandmother who came from Paisley. The war museum was intense and showed how deeply patriotic the Scots are. Although William Wallace and Robert the Bruce are big legends in tourists' minds, I was more moved by the medals and pics of Scotsman Mark Wright who was a career soldier and served in Iraq and Afghanistan, only to died there in a helicopter of his wounds received while trying to save some soldiers. The room dedicated to the women who also played important roles in the wars made me proud! Their strength and stories are admirable and I like the stock I come from.

Check out my pics of the castle view and the big cannon called Mons Meg. I explored the dungeons and the prisoners of war museum, too. Four words. Dank and Bone chilling. From there, I walked back down the Royal Mile and peeked into St. Giles Church, which houses the LARGEST musical organ I have EVER seen. Impressive. My last stop was to hike the 287 steps of the spiraling stone staircase that took me to the top of the city. I was prepared for these narrow stairs because of my experience in some Irish castles, but still it was very narrow and dizzying. The view is worth the vertigo, though! Now when I teach Huck Finn, I can share with my students how dearly the Scots love their boy, Sir Walter Scott, even if Twain's reference to him is as the name of a sinking steamboat on the Mississippi.

I am off to Inverness up near Loch Ness tomorrow and I'm excited to start the writing workshop. Stay tuned . . .