Remember way back when, when I was writing up a travelogue for my Ireland/Scotland trip?  Not sure if you can cast your mind that far back since it's been so long, but it occurred to me that I never did complete the tale.  Mia culpa, folks.  Until I have the more detailed version down and up (on paper and on line, respectively), here are the highlights from the next day:
 

• Trekked from Logie's Baird Pub on the Royal Mile, hung a sharp right at the Palace of Holyroodhouse, and took our legs off-roading to climb to the top of Arthur's Seat, a long-extinct volcano.  Burning thighs.  Creaky knees.  Lung a'fire.  Reached the summit at 251 m for a gaaarrrgeous view of the Firth of Forth, the Leith Docks, and the city below ('twas interesting to look down upon the city from such a dizzying height through the haze of spots and glittering sparkles swimming around in my eyes after the strenuous hike).

• Reversed course, went down one ancient volcano and up another, and hoofed it over to Edinburgh Castle.  Sitting atop the austere crags of Castle Rock, the dark, massive castle also afforded an amazing panoramic view of the towns (old and new).  The entrance bore the royal Scottish motto in Latin, nemo me impune lacessit, which in English is translated as "you do *not* wanna throw down with me" - gotta love it.  Perfect moody, melancholy atmosphere, lovely architecture, and serious guard-changing action.

 

• Fries with brown sauce.  Or, if you prefer, chips with brown sauce.  Either way, oh my.

• Flipping through the channels on the telly, I caught the show "Still Game" and decided that for that show alone (Scottish comedy about two crotchety old men and their collection of pals, each with such a thick brogue that the dialogue was nearly or completely incomprehensible), I would move to Scotland.   Seriously.  It was that good.