If you’re wondering where we’ve been since mid-June, permit us to catch you up now.
At St. Giles’ Cathedral we heard a lunchtime recital: Charles Whitehead played Prokofiev (Piano Sonata No. 8) and Ravel (Gaspard de la nuit). Stirring choices!
We also finally got a peek into the Thistle Chapel, which only recently began closing because of a series of thefts. The Most Ancient and Noble Order of the Thistle is a Scottish order of chivalry, with the monarch seated at the head. That would be the Queen. This is carved in the front of the Sovereign’s perch, which is called a stall.
Another day, it was a talk by author Ewan Morrison at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery. Dude spoke about his postmodern generation and how he’d grown out of all that, if that’s a fair way to put it.
Summer arrived. As did company from the U.S., on the same day that the Duke and Duchess of Rothesay arrived in town. Perhaps you know them as Chuck and Camilla. Here they are that day at Farm to Table on St. Andrew Square.
The Edinburgh International Film Festival began, ended, and included The Brave Don’t Cry (1952) but not Malcolm McDowell.
One of us had cold and finished another book by John Buchan.
Which reminds us that the U.S. Supreme Court made us so proud and relieved. (Yes, we’re big fans of lethal injection. Kidding!)
The visit from R’s sister occasioned an overdue visit to the Edinburgh Castle. Did you know the castle is currently exhibiting the flags (the regimental colours, that is) carried by the Royal Scots in the Battle of Waterloo 200 years ago? They’ve faded (who hasn’t?) and haven’t been on public display in 80 years (and won’t be again). Smudgy now, but an interesting story.
A couple of Water of Leith Walkway city walks, one to Stockbridge and Dean Village–and back with a stop at Earthy for coffee and cake–and another to Leith, where the Royal Yacht Britannia was the draw.
Yesterday was a warm, muggy, high-pollen, and insightful experience: an Historic Scotland Ranger Service tour of Holyrood Park, Arthur’s Seat, and the Salisbury Crags. Since the Queen was now in town, it meant we couldn’t use the loos at the Palace.
Our day and the month wrapped up with a lovely meal in Duddingston Village, at the Sheep Heid Inn.
Why is it called the Sheep Heid? Hmmm…