First Day in Edinburgh

Scotland's first full day commenced with a trip to the grocery story (discussed supra). Following that came a tour of the famous Edinburgh Castle.

The oldest standing building in the Castle was 12th Century. In other words, really old.

Various English Kings, guys named McDonald, and other folk of interest lived there throughout the years. Some of them died there in ultra violent ways (killed in kilts!).

Interesting historical note; in 1707 the Brits and Scots united and the Scots gave up the crown, scepter and colors which was stored in a backroom in Edinburgh Castle. For ever a hundred years, no one even bothered to check and see if they were still there, until the 1800s when Sir Walter Scott, with permission from some Prince friend of his, "broke" into the castle and discovered them under some linens in an abandoned room.

Sir Walter was an interesting chap, BTW. Lawyer (good bloke), who actually wrote so frenetically because he was trying to paying off an astronomical debt that his father's estate had left him. He succeeded. He also was extremely instrumental in political affairs, something that Rob Roy fans will dubiously appreciate since RRs political skills were a bit lacking.

After the castle visit, we walked to the stadium to the see the Edinburgh Hearts play ("the Heart and Soul of Edinburgh." Ugh) I was scooting down the aisle to get into my seat just when the first, and only, goal of the game was scored.

And now we break in with a word on soccer. Boring.

While substantially more interesting in person than on TV, it still reminds me of chess without the strategy part (oh yes, I know there is some strategy, but since one random shot can make all of the difference in the world versus all of the strategy of the rest of the game, I stand by my statement). People cheer wildly when someone actually misses a goal! "Good try old chap!"

My mom used to lecture me on "empty calories." explaining that my intake might be fine but that there was no nutritional value to what I was eating, etc, etc. Soccer is sports version of empty calories. There may be plenty of hooting and hollering, running, sweating, and cursing, but in the broader scope of sport, it's all empty calories. Burning them off with no goals.

Which brings me back trying to get to my seat when a goal had just been scored. A goal is a time for everyone to drunkenly (perhaps that's why I don't like the sport, it's only palatable drunk) hug each other as if the Allied Tanks had just rolled into Berlin. It's very embarassing to be trying to squeeze through to one's seat in such a situation, but I was already committed to it when that lucky son of a gun got it past the goal keeper and made the day of every "hearts" fan.

After soccer, we walked back, got some food, and then hung out at an alehouse and played cards.

I won.

Good day.