A couple of weeks ago I spent a weekend in Edinburgh. I originally hail from Nova Scotia—literally, New Scotland—so I never doubted I would be drawn to Old Scotia. And drawn I was.
I crammed as many tourist attractions into our two-day visit as I could: the botanical gardens, Arthur's Seat, the castle, Holyrood Palace, Old Town, New Town, Parliament, the Scotch Whiskey Experience, and every great gastropub my husband could find. There is so much to do in Edinburgh. And I can happily report that all of the good things you hear about this city—the nice people, the lush parks, the romantic architecture, the great beers and whiskies, the alarmingly loud bagpipes, the cozy fog—really do exist.
I didn't have time to venture outside of the city except to take a wonderful train ride south to London. Now I'm looking for any excuse I can get to go back to Scotland and see the Highlands, which are just the dreamiest.
Like many Canadians, I'm not quite sure exactly where I come from. England? Ireland? Scotland? Who knows. But if it turns out someday that I indeed do have links to this very special place, like so many from Canada's East Coast, I would be tickled pink. (Or, er, green?)
Bidh mi beò an dòchas!
slept at: Ibis Hotel Edinburgh
(and couldn't get a bad meal if I tried!)
shopped at: The Red Door Gallery