Edinburgh.

I'm Dutch on my mother's side, Scottish on my father's. Edinburgh was my first glimpse of that bit of my history. The city is unlike anything I've seen, the Old Town in particular. It's all hills and winding passageways. We spent most of our time wandering in the rain and cold, and yet it was such a pleasure. I took few pictures, as I was too busy staring at my surroundings and/or concerned about those ever-present downpours. It gradually became a game: what can we do indoors? National Gallery? Thistle-ceilinged cathedrals? Five pubs in one day? 

Our first view of the city.

A break in the rain, EVERYONE OUTSIDE!

 

We popped through a tiny close and onto the Writer's Museum, where an older purple-sweatered gentleman in the basement regaled us with the incredible tales of Robert Louis Stevenson's life.

This is certainly one of my favorite plaques of all-time. 

We spotted the Salisbury Cregs from a nearby park...

...and decided we had to make the climb. In the pouring rain. It was my idea. I am not very clever. It was fun?