A Bonny Day in Edinburgh

It has already been established that we are American.  This distinguishes us in many ways from Scots, not least of which is the way we handle vacation (or holiday, as they say here).  One of the ways in which Americans are unique (some may say "crazy") is that they tend to cram a lot of vacation activities into a small stretch of time.  You can see this tendency in our previously documented trip to Oban/Mull/Iona/Staffa.

But oops, we did it again. Fortunately our visiting friends are also American so they don't find our "cram everything into a day" behavior odd. We didn't really do everything in Edinburgh, but we did visit two high points (literally) in the Scottish capital in one day, and came home exhausted.  But it was a lovely day.

First we went to Arthur's Seat.  For those of you not familiar with Edinburgh, this is the top of an extinct volcano.  Sources online had tipped me off to the fact that you can drive about halfway up this mountain and then take a 15-to-30-minute (depending upon the source) walk up to the summit. Uphill, sure. But not that far. Allegedly.

Later, in the taxi. The taxi driver regales us with a story of two Canadians who flew to Edinburgh, got a train to Waverly Station, got in his cab and asked to be taken to Arthur's Seat. They had an urn with them and it turned out the ashes belonged to one of their fathers, an Edinburgh native, who wanted to be scattered at the top of Arthur's Seat.  Because the adult child and his/her partner were quite overweight, they took one look at the hill and decided they were not going to make it, so they asked the taxi driver to make the climb.  He obliged, saying it wasn't really the kind of thing you could say "no" to.  But he quoted 45 minutes up the hill and 30 minutes back down as the time for the trip.  And I'm thinking, 45 minutes? For one man and an urn? Without two seven-year-olds and a three-year old who is probably going to need to be carried? We may be in trouble here.

But it turned out OK. Six out of seven made it all the way to the top of Arthur's Seat. And #7 was an adult, so it was okay. 

Kathleen climbing up from Dunsapie Loch where the taxi let us off.

Patrick waiting for me maybe 1/3 of the way up the mountain (Arthur's Seat peak behind him)

Paul, Claire and Patrick, nearly there (Claire rode on Paul's back most of the way)

Success! Paul and the kids at the peak.

More success: John and Patrick

And me! I'm there too! John bemused by girls channeling their inner divas.

But we weren't done yet. As the old saying goes, what goes up must come down.  And so we did, down the other side of the mountain to St. Margaret's Loch, where we had a picnic, and were filmed for a training video.  Not sure what they were training on - the proper art of picnicing? Staying a safe distance from swans? It remains a great mystery.

St. Margaret's Loch, with tone of the 2-person film crew.

Post-hike picnic.

Then, on to the iconic Edinburgh attraction - the Castle. Located, of course, on a big hill at the other end of the Royal Mile. So we called a taxi.  After a brief snafu (Paul: We're at St. Margaret's Loch, at the car park. Dispatcher: We can't send a taxi to you unless you're at an address. Paul:(phoning back after walking 100 feet) Okay we're at #1 Royal Mews. Now send a taxi!))

Orzechs by the Castle Gate

MacCubbins by the Castle Gate

 Once inside, we spit up, though everyone did see the Scottish Crown Jewels (except Paul, who had already seen them twice and has a better memory than some of us who went again because we had forgotten some of the experience...)

After the jewels, there was time for photo ops near the Scottish War Memorial, near the forewall battery (a collection of cannon), and of course our historic meeting with Queen Margaret (later St. Margaret) in the Great Hall, fit in around the all-important afternoon tea.

Claire posing outside the War Memorial.

Kay and Audrey selfie near the forewall battery.

Girls with Queen Margaret in the Great Hall, Edinburgh Castle. 

Finally it was time to head back on the train, in time for a beautiful sunset over the River Tay.

Patrick entertaining the kids with Uno in the train station.

Tay sunset from train window.

Four American Habits that Die Hard

So we have been in Scotland for about seven months now.  This is long enough, for me at least, to feel like we live here rather than just being temporary visitors.  I have adapted in a lot of ways, especially linguistically. I now talk about my garden instead of my yard, almost always remember to say trousers instead of pants, ask for a bus ticket to the city centre instead of downtown, and ask for my soup or cake "for takeaway" instead of "to go."  But it was that last bit (to go) that recently reminded me that there are a few American habits I have that die hard. I stopped into a coffee shop in the city centre to get a scone for takeaway, and the guy standing behind the counter said, after I ordered, "One scone to go." I was shocked, and told him he was the first person in Scotland I had heard say, "to go."  He was nonplussed, and his co-worker gave me my scone to go, and I went.

Inspired by "to go," here are four American habits, linguistic and otherwise, that die hard:

1) Chips vs. Crisps

Thanks to the Oxford Learners Dictionaries I can illustrate my problem (NAmE in the image  refers to North American English, by the way) . Despite picking up a variety of different terms, I have a very hard time calling potato chips anything but chips, and since I already have a reference for the word "chips" I find it very difficult to call French Fries by their British name.  Audrey has totally adapted, following her school friends' lead, but to me, a chip is a chip, and a fry is not a chip.

2) Walking the wrong way

I have finally mastered looking in the direction that the cars are actually coming before crossing the street.  This is not intuitive, it takes re-training of your mind and instincts, but since the consequences are relatively dire (being hit by an oncoming car you didn't see because you were looking the other way) I have been motivated to change my behavior.  However, walking along the sidewalk (or pavement, as they call it here) is a different story. I constantly find myself walking on a collision course with other pedestrians.  I stay to the right when I should be walking to the left, only being reminded to move by people walking straight toward me. Sometimes they just move to the side sympathetically, eyeing me as you would someone about to turn their car into a one-way street.  This is especially a problem on staircases - I come wheeling around the corner and nearly smack into people. And then I go back to trying to re-train my brain to walk where I am expected to walk.

3) Saying Good Morning or Hello

This is one both Paul and I run into every day.  For people that you see on a regular basis (work colleagues, church friends, singing acquaintances, people at playgroup, the local crossing guard) the Scottish form of address is generally "Hiya." But neither of us can really get our heads or mouths around "Hiya."  I usually say Good Morning, or Hello, both of which provoke a pause from people I'm addressing.  Paul points out that it might just be people reacting to our funny accents, but I think it's also a mental shift - she said Good Morning, not Hiya, so what do I say next?

4) Celsius vs. Fahrenheit

For this one it's not so much the day to day weather - if I read that it's going to be 9, for example, I have kind of an idea of how much chillier it's going to be in the morning than if it's going to be 13. But when you start telling a story, especially a story about Arizona, and it starts with "It was summer in Arizona, and it was 110 degrees..." and then you realize your listener has no idea what 110 degrees means, and you wonder, should I try to convert this to Celsius? Or just say it's really hot? I usually opt for the latter.

These issues may resolve as we're here longer  - who knows, by the time we come back to the States (or America, as they say here) we'll be totally Scottish and have trouble adjusting back to American terms and norms!