Edinburgh was a big place, and slippery as hell, though that probably had more to do with the snow than Edinburgh itself.
After settling in at the hostel, (which was HUGE) we ventured out into the cold and went to see Edinburgh Castle, which was about as different from Castle Caernarfon as you could get while still being a castle. For starters, it was massive, occupying a whole hill top, and full of its own buildings and towers that held a half dozen different exhibits, which also unfortunately meant that it was littered with large plastic “Did you know?” signs, which didn’t look like they were part of the original castle design (although you never know). So while it definitely had more to see, it felt more like a tourist spot than Castle Caernarfon did. But it was awesome nonetheless. We spent a good few hours wandering through the exhibits and walls until 1:00pm, when it was time to watch them fire the 1:00 gun, something they’d be doing for several hundred years to tell ships docked nearby what the time was so they could reset their chronometers.
The audience gathered as the soldier entered the courtyard, carrying a shell in his arm.
The audience tensed as he loaded the shell into the artillery cannon and prepared the mechanism.
The audience held its breath as the solider glanced at his watch and swung down the trigger.
The audience waited while nothing happened.
The audience started to snigger as the soldier frantically tried to unjam the gun before unloading the shell and headed back inside.
It turned out that the gun had frozen overnight and wouldn’t be able to fire, and of course it either fires on time or not at all, so there was no firing that day, which left me feeling sorry for the solider more than disappointed. So we went and had a cup of tea instead, which wasn’t a bit a spectacle but did have the advantage of being a cup of tea.
Lexi roasted a ham for dinner that evening which was a bit of a luxury.
The next day we headed out to Calton Hill which was, well it was a big hill, but it gave a fantastic view of the surrounding city, and looked rather wonderful covered in snow. Going up the hill was a bit tough in the snow, but quite doable.
Going down was a slow and treacherous descent of holding desperately onto railings and trying to find the less slippery patches of snow, and getting the vague feeling that Lexi was quietly rather amused by the whole thing, or at least would be if she wasn’t holding on for dear life herself.
That evening we popped down to the cinema to see “Sherlock Holmes” which turned out to be a rollicking good action film with everyone in top form.
We got into York late on Day 17 (30th of December for reference), and aside from a rather lengthy wrong turning got to our hotel without much issue. York. Is. Amazing. I’ve remarked before how old London felt. York feels older. The fact that it’s smaller probably contributes, but this kind of heightened the feeling of the weight of history of seeing yet another 800 year old building every time you turned a corner. Every block has at least something ancient on it, and the town is littered with small modest plaques saying things like “on this spot in 1292...”
What dominates the town is Yorkminster, a giant abbey that could probably give Westminster a run for it’s money, looking all the more imposing because there’s no other building in the town that even comes close to matching its size. We went to evening prayer, which was held in a small side chapel. Earlier in the day we went to the Castle Museum, and the National Rail Museum.
There isn’t actually a Castle in York anymore, so the assumption is that the museum is where the castle used to be. This is heightened by the fact that there isn’t really any mention of castles in the museum. There were some very good history sections, including one wall exhibits about the history of vacuum cleaners or funerals etc, which were actually very interesting because most museums I’ve been to seem to think that this kind of thing would be beneath them, which is a shame because I learnt more from these walls than any giant dinosaur skeleton. Not that dinosaurs are not awesome, you understand. They are.
The National Rail Museum turned me into a 5 year old, and I merrily wandered between the engines, marvelling and the size and feeling again the romance of train travel, torn between two thoughts, one half of me wishing I lived in an era when steam trains still ruled and I could become a train driver, and the other half reminding my first half that being a train driver was a downright terrible job.
There was also a Thomas shop, but they didn’t have the complete collection of Rev Awdry stories, so I didn’t bother buying anything from there.
After all the museums we headed out for a bar and grill dinner then back to the hotel, for it was now only a few hours to the new year. Shipping our champagne and orange juice (from a can, no less), we watched the clock tick down to midnight, shouted “hooray,” went outside to watch the fireworks for a bit and then went to bed.
This morning we are on the train to Liverpool, where I intend to find something to do with the Beatles.
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