Scotland

The tram ride into Edinburgh was pleasant enough. Like riding the C-Train in Calgary, but places for your luggage. We arrived at St Andrews Square, got our bearings and headed off to the Scotsman Hotel. Our book said there was an entrance to the hotel off of Market Street. Well that’s easy enough we thought but what we didn’t know was there were 104 steps up to the entrance! The Scotsman Steps, made from different colours of marble. The steps separate old town from new town, and you do step back in time as you ascend. Tom grumbled but offered to carry both our bags up.

After waiting on Dianne for what seemed like an hour, we headed out to get moneyed up, scout train schedules and find a pub to eat in. First two on the list, not that tough, and you would think that finding a pub with good eats wouldn’t be a challenge, but we sometimes have difficulty agreeing on what would be a good place to eat. First it has to have people in it and appear popular. It can’t be too highbrow. One place was populated with what Dianne describes as “old geezers” and she felt we would not fit in. We walked up and down stairs and hills around the neighbourhood and finally settled on a pub just a few steps from the Scotsman. When we found it, Dianne pointed out that she liked this place from the time we passed by it on our way to the hotel.

The Doric Tavern is the oldest gastro pub (whatever that means) in town. The mood was subdued,and the surroundings old and creaky. We had fish and chips with no ketchup. I wasn’t sure I could pronounce ketchup in Scottish so we went without. When Dianne ordered her wine she asked how big a serving it was. Our server replied “it’s a turd of a bottle”.Okumaya devam et