6 December 2004
Scotland's capital city: Edinburgh
By Annie Warmke
You can visit with Annie by going to http://www.bluerockstation.com
We decided to take the train from Kinghorn to Edinburgh since it was only a 20-minute ride. This small town near Craigencalt Farm, where we had just visited, rests atop the jagged cliffs that overlook the sea, and on this clear day we could see all the way to Edinburgh.
The small commuter train was "spot on time" and we were off. One of the great pleasures of Europe is having the ability to take a train to almost anywhere. There is something quite inviting about climbing on board, snuggling into a broad seat and watching the countryside slide by. You know you will get where you want to go (something not always certain when I try to get around by car), and there will be no parking problem at the end of the journey.
Edinburgh is notorious for no place to park, and once you find a spot you can practically buy a new outfit for the price to rent that little slice of real estate. The cost of our train tickets was less than one hour's parking in downtown Edinburgh.
The train hugged the coast, stopping occasionally to pick up more commuters heading to Scotland's capital city. We drifted past castle ruins and fallen-down factories. At one stop the beautiful stone train station was boarded up and for sale for the price of about $18,000.
One moment we were looking at a stunning scene with picture postcard cottages perched on cliffs, and the Firth Bridge to Edinburgh shinning off in the distance. Then we would turn a corner and there were acres of debris and rubble stretching in all directions. Another corner and we were back in paradise.
Without doubt, the most striking feature of Edinburgh is its castle. Edinburgh Castle, standing guard proudly over the city and harbor for more than 1,000 years. More than a million people visit here each year.
The castle sits at one end of the "Royal Mile," a street lined with tiny shops that links it with the Royal Palace of Holyrood House. For centuries the kings and queens of Scotland and England have traveled back and forth between the royal palace and the castle ... hence the name. While we didn't see any royalty, we did see a guy painted up like William Wallace, the Scottish hero Braveheart, posing for pictures with wide-eyed looking children. There were also a couple of fellows in kilts playing bagpipes for a few pence. More than one person offered to pay only if they stopped playing. Bagpipes, like haggis (the national dish made with some form of animal guts), requires being born in Scotland to appreciate the quality.
Once inside the castle, it's easy to see why it was built here. In every direction the views are magnificent. The city spreads out below, flowing into all the nooks and crannies that fold into the harbor. The ancient church spires point upward from the pavement, and stand along side construction cranes that remind me that this city is constantly changing.
I struggled to locate the new Scottish Parliament building at Holyrood, but couldn't find it. For some reason I was sure it would stick out like a sore thumb. For months the British press has been taking secret delight in the ever-escalating costs of the new home to the Scottish Parliament. Originally designed to cost about £40 million (about $80 million), the costs are now over £431 million and still rising. At a price tag of around $150 for every man, woman and child in Scotland, it reminds me that nothing is too good for elected officials the world over.
Scotland is such a contrast, where the ancient merges with the new. The people are distant yet kind, generous yet frugal, cautious and adventurous. The weather is harsh, then magnificent. The landscape is stunning, then suddenly cruel.
Standing at the top of Edinburgh, staring out across this little piece of Scotland, it struck me that I understood Scotland's contrasts and their choices. That understanding seemed important as I stood there looking down at Cat as she studied the view. I found myself wondering how all of these experiences in new and different places would influence her in adulthood, and I was suddenly grateful that I had the good fortune of visiting the land of my ancestors.