Edinburgh's Royal Mile puts many of the historic city's worthwhile places and interesting faces within easy walking distance.
By ROBERT N. JENKINS
Published June 13, 2004
[Times photo: Robert N. Jenkins]
A young woman reads on the side of Edinburgh’s Calton Hill. Beyond her is part of New Town. Go to photo gallery and map
EDINBURGH - The Royal Mile is dotted with costumed posers celebrating Scotland's military history. Just beyond the upper end of the Mile, a real legend makes his appearance once a day; you aresupposed to set your watch by him.
At the other end of the Mile, across the street from the palace still used by the British sovereign, is a construction site that has generated embarrassment, anger and an eight-month government investigation.
Perhaps a half-hour's walk from the construction but just a few blocks from the city's busy downtown runs a wooded creek so relaxing that the only sounds are the burbling water and the occasional command recalling a frisky dog.
Woven together, the scenes form the living tartan of this ancient national capital.
At the top of the Mile - it's actually a few hundred yards longer - squats the imposing Edinburgh Castle, which has metamorphosed from the centuries-old seat of Scottish rulers to the nation's top tourist attraction.
In various shapes and sizes, a castle has been atop what is a dormant volcano for roughly 1,200 years. The city's oldest building is within the castle's walls, the wee St. Margaret's Chapel. Smaller than a two-car garage, it has commanded a fine view for almost 900 years.
In various places at Edinburgh Castle, Robert the Bruce was crowned king of Scotland, and Mary, queen of Scots, gave birth to the boy who would become James I of England.
Visitors can tour Mary's small apartments and, elsewhere, can marvel at layer upon layer of history in the castle. But by 12:45 p.m. they should be jockeying for position next to the artillery piece known as the 1 O'Clock Gun.
Standing off to one side of the weapon, usually chatting with a tour guide, is Sgt. Thomas McKay - that contemporary legend known as Tom the Gun.
Impressive in his dark blue uniform and white gloves, the stout McKay approaches the cannon at about 12:56 p.m. each day - as he has for the past 25 years - and loads it with a blank shell. Then he eyes the pocket watch he holds in his left hand and, at precisely 1 p.m., Tom the Gun pulls the short cord that fires the weapon.
The boom always startles and delights the surrounding spectators. They are witnesses to the continuance of a tradition begun in 1861 to provide the correct time for ships in the nearby Firth of Forth - the charmingly named bay that opens onto the North Sea.
McKay, 59, is the longest-serving district gunner in the British Army. He notes that he was stationed in Germany in 1979 when he was assigned to fill in temporarily for the castle's gunner, who had taken ill. "He died - bad luck for him, good luck for me," notes McKay.
McKay has since been specially appointed to fire the 1 O'Clock Gun. He also serves as the castle's living symbol - handling duties such as placing a plastic tiara on the head of a tiny girl who arrived in a limo one day in March to be crowned a princess of the castle, as part of her Make A Wish Foundation day.
History, controversy on the Mile
With ancient names such as Canongate and Lawnmarket, five successive streets make up the Mile, which is Tourism Central for the city. Along these streets you can stop in the Scotch Whisky Heritage Center to learn about it and to get a free sample. Or you can get a lesson in the history of tartans (and perhaps buy some of your ancestral plaid). You can even view Edinburgh as it appears through an odd, 19th century periscope and projection device.
Or maybe you want to take home some bagpipes. Several shops compete keenly to sell them, as the sign outside one noted:
"Our rosewood pipes are not to be compared with the beginner sets you commonly see listed. (Our) pipes are manufactured with aged and seasoned wood. This is a set of pipes you will be proud to own and play. A full set of pipes!!"
The carrying case, pipes and reeds go for 65 pounds (about $120).
Or you can spend up to $275 for a set that includes "a learning tape, quality bag seasoning oil, hemp thread, four corks." Who knew the pipes were so complex?
Surely, the multitude of pipers who play along the Mile. In kilt, knee socks and short jacket, these pipers stand by their carrying cases, left open to receive tips.
The pipers position themselves so that no one is playing over another's music. It is possible to stroll the upper part of the Mile and hear the pipes for several blocks.
The pipers are generally playing to make money; not so Braveheart and the Highland warrior. Fierce as they look - and Braveheart gladly holds a battle-ax in one hand, a mock severed head in the other - both men are collecting donations for charities.
Gary Knight costumes himself as one of the estimated 2,500 Highlanders who fought under Prince Charles Edward Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) to reclaim Scotland from its British rulers in the summer of 1745.
It's appropriate for Knight's Highlander to be standing a few hundred yards down the Mile from the castle. Charlie's men occupied the city in September 1745, but with less support than expected, the prince and his Highlanders were defeated in April 1746 by English forces.
Before then, Charlie had met with his battlefield leaders in the town of Crieff, northwest of Edinburgh, which is where Gary Knight would like to establish a museum to the Highland warriors. So on weekends, he poses for pictures with passers-by and tries to sell them metal buttons showing a Celtic knot, which promises the wearer safe passage through the Highlands.
While Knight seems almost jovial, Adam Waters collects his donations by appearing frightful. With his handsome face slathered in bright blue greasepaint, Waters portrays Braveheart, played in the Oscar-winning film of that name by Mel Gibson.
There was a Braveheart - his real name was William Wallace - who left his training as a priest after English invaders killed his father and older brother in the 1290s. He soon became a leader of rebels against the ruthless king of England, Edward.
The bloody battles made for inspiring legends, re-enacted by folks such as Adam Waters. Waters' diabetes had forced him to abandon a career as a professional boxer, so he joined a group of re-enactors "to get involved in something," he said. But he also needed to earn a living, and his mother suggested he portray Braveheart full time.
For more than six years, Adams had been working the Royal Mile, grimacing and thrusting out his battle-ax or the severed head toward the cameras of the tourists. Then a friend, who owns a tartan-weaving shop on the Mile, offered to employ Adams if he would donate all the tips to support leukemia research. Adams said he finds this doubly rewarding:
"It's a great charity, and I met my wife doing this."
More than a few Scots would like to have a Braveheart wade into the embarrassing, aggravating construction-project-that-ate-Edinburgh.
The project was to have showcased Scotland's limited separation - called a devolution - from nearly three centuries of power wielded by the monarchs and Parliament sitting in London. :
It is the building in which Scotland's own Parliament will sit.
Originally, the Scottish MPs were told in 1997 that the structure would cost between 10-million and 40-million pounds - in 1997 dollars, roughly between $16.3-million and $65-million.
The project is not finished and is three years past its completion date. It is now estimated to have cost a staggering 430-million pounds, at current exchange rates, nearly $789-million.
The Parliament appointed its own investigator into what is named the Holyrood project. He presided over more than six weeks of testimony that, the Scotsman newspaper reports, came to more than 1-million words.
The hearings finished about two weeks ago, and while the official findings have not been published, the investigation's chief counsel has spoken. John Campbell laid blame before every segment involved in Holyrood:
* The first set of government overseers, who came up with the unsubstantiated cost estimates.
* The Scottish Cabinet minister who rejected a more-suitable site than the cramped space virtually across the street from the Palace of Holyroodhouse, the royal residence when Queen Elizabeth visits Scotland.
* The Parliament's chief executives, who twice appointed project managers with no construction experience.
* The architect, a Spaniard who died in 2000 but whose widow testified that the Scots demanded he create more space but without more money.
* Bureaucrats who were afraid to disclose the soaring costs to their elected bosses.
Lost in the months of finger-pointing and denial is the symbolic importance of the building. The Union of Scotland and England occurred in 1707, creating Great Britain and assigning all power over Scotland to one monarch and the Parliament in London.
But the devolution transfers to the Scottish Parliament powers over matters such as health, education, transportation, housing, the environment, economic development and local government. The Parliament of the United Kingdom retains authority over international matters and defense.
At the first session of the new Scottish Parliament on July 1, 1999, the senior Scottish member of the U.K. Parliament announced, "The Scottish Parliament, which adjourned in 1707, is now reconvened."
The boards shielding the Holyrood site from the sidewalks are covered with the comments of Scots, solicited a few years ago for reflections on the importance of the devolution. Among the comments:
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
- Sir Walter Scott
The rose of all the world is not for me.
I want for my part
Only the little white rose, of Scotland
That smells sharp and sweet - and breaks the heart.
- Hugh McDiarmid
Calm amid the city
Edinburgh is a government town, a college town, a seaport, a manufacturing town - an area of about a half-million souls living close together. To find space away from each other, they can go to the seaside or out into the country. They can walk a few blocks from the Holyrood site, enter Holyrood Park and clamber up the city's other dormant volcano, the 825-foot-high Arthur's Seat.
Or residents can meander a few yards from a section of million-dollar row houses, down to an old millstream, and forget they are in a city.
The River Leith served an estimated 70 mills and small factories when Edinburgh was growing into the Industrial Revolution of the 19th century. The river flows from the port of Leith on the Firth of Forth, but by the 20th century electrical power eliminated the need to build mills where water could turn their wheels. The Leith silted up in places, became a sewer outlet, was largely forgotten.
A couple of decades ago, conservation interests cleaned the riverbed and built a paved walk that runs for a few twisting miles through the northern edge of the city. Most of the path, named the Water of Leith, is bordered by trees; in places there are no structures visible in any direction, nor is there any urban noise.
The western end of the path starts about two-thirds of a mile from a commuter train station and is less than 15 yards behind a bus stop on a busy street.
After a few minutes' walking, the contemporary homes visible along one riverbank become fewer and fewer, and then there are none.
The trees form a green border for the shallow Leith. Birds call to each other, ducks float by, lovers stroll hand in hand.
The river again reaches developed areas, but the route is past grassy back yards or private gardens. Occasionally, river and path pass beneath a road bridge. Oddly, a statue of a Roman goddess inside a tiny temple has been placed on the riverbank.
Signs note both the direction and walking time to such attractions as the National Gallery of Modern Art and the Royal Botanic Garden. The path includes a short walk along narrow streets of Dean Village, past a 17th century bakers' guild building and the late-19th century city estate home of the owner of the Scotsman.
You can leave the path in several places, walking back up into Edinburgh into expensive residential neighborhoods where flower boxes and cats fill the window ledges.
A few blocks on, you are passing trendy boutiques, convenience stores and yuppie cafes. But the tartan of old Edinburgh is still everywhere around you.
GETTING THERE: There is no direct air service between Edinburgh and the Tampa Bay area, but Continental Airlines has nonstop service from Newark to Edinburgh, and other airlines offer connecting flights from European gateways.
THE SIGHTS: Edinburgh has become famous in the past few decades for various festivals held in August. There are multiweek events dedicated to theater, film, literature and music both classical and popular.
Venues are all over the city. The large plaza outside the entrance is the site for the stirring tattoo, a series of performances by bagpipers and marching bands. A fireworks "concert" on the lovely lawns of Princes Street Gardens - that long-since-drained cesspool - is the final event.
You shouldn't wait to battle the festival crowds to see Edinburgh.
Even fans of the gritty modern city portrayed in writer Ian Rankin's Inspector Rebus novels must troop about Edinburgh Castle at least once. Allow half a day to see it, and begin with a free narrated tour. You can also rent an audio guide to get details at several listening spots.
Peek over the ramparts to see the New Town, begun in the 18th century to the north, and the Old Town that grew up around the castle. Key stops within the castle:
* The Honours of Scotland. Dioramas relate the history of the nation's crown jewels. They date to the late 1400s and were hidden behind a wall from the English for more than a century.
* The recently opened Prisoner of War vaults. These subterranean rooms changed over the centuries from a bakery to barracks and, in the 1750s, to cells.
The POWs were from France, Spain, the Netherlands and - from the colonies' Revolution against King George - what would be the United States. Displays show some of the handicrafts, such as snuffboxes, model ships and even counterfeit banknotes that the prisoners crafted, for sale to the townspeople.
* Three military museums, chief among them the National War Museum. It features uniforms, weaponry, flags and maps dating to the mid 1600s; there is even a small pennant that flew from a tank antenna in the Gulf War.
A video and signs explain that military service was seen as not only a source of wages but also a chance for social advancement beyond the drudgery of farm or workshop.
While the museum generally promotes, if not glorifies, Scotland's military history, one display notes that the small nation lost 148,000 men in World War I. And walls of frosted glass include excerpts from soldiers' diaries and letters home about their war experiences. Among those comments is this, from a monument dedicated to soldiers who died in a South African battle in November 1899:
Scotland is poorer in men, but richer in heroes.
Edinburgh Castle is open daily except for Dec. 25 and 26; most of it is wheelchair-accessible. For more information, go to www.historic-scotland.gov.uk
From among Edinburgh's museums, consider these:
* The Royal Museum. This is Scotland's Smithsonian, in a wonderful multistory Victorian hall. There are displays of Asian art, machinery (even an early steam locomotive) and household items dating to 1850. Among the stuffed animals is one of Scotland's most famous: Dolly, the cloned sheep.
The museum is wheelchair-accessible and open daily except on Christmas. The Web site is www.nms.ac.uk.
* The National Portrait Gallery has been housed in the same building for 115 years. Original murals and friezes compete for attention with the portraits, thoughtfully arranged in chronological order. Most everyone important is here, so you can see Bonnie Prince Charlie, Sir Walter Scott and Robert Burns, current royals and even comic-actor Robbie Coltrane.
The museum is wheelchair-accessible and open daily except on Dec. 25 and 26. The Web site is www.nationalgalleries.org
* As grand as the buildings housing those two museums are, the People's Story is in a 400-year-old structure never planned for displays. Consequently, the presentations - mainly costumed mannequins or artifacts - seem crowded. But the story told is that of common folks' often-difficult lives in Edinburgh, dating to the late 18th century.
Real people are often quoted in the signs. Recounted is the rise of today's unions, starting with the "incorporations" that restricted who could be cobblers, hatmakers or furriers.
Photos and written accounts portray harsh conditions that existed into the second half of the 20th century - in 1961, 25 percent of Edinburgh's households did not have indoor bathrooms.
The People's Story is in the Canongate Tolbooth building, at the lower end of the Mile. The museum is open daily except on Dec. 25 and 26. For more information, go to www.cac.org.uk this is the site for the 11 museums operated by the city.
STAYING THERE: Edinburgh has a full range of lodging choices, including many private homes converted to small hotels.
I stayed at the 3-year-old Scotsman, in what had been the editorial offices of a newspaper. This hotel is high-end, and while each of its 68 rooms is decorated differently, each has DVD and CD players and a widescreen TV with onscreen Internet access. The hotel has its own 46-seat movie theater with surround-sound.
The staff is attentive. The lobby features a bar and restaurant in what would have been the reception area for the newspaper; it is surrounded by a balcony, the preferred place for those who want to people-watch while dining.
I got a winter-season discount when I stayed at the Scotsman. The current best package is a room with cocktails and dinner for two in the fancier of the hotel's two restaurants, for 175 pounds a night - about $329.
