We all met up in Edinburgh after a couple of red-eyes across the pond.
It’s a spectacular city, complete with bagpipers on virtually every corner (including a particularly talented young piper with a killer version of Thunderstuck), statues, monuments, ancient churches, Braveheart impersonators screaming ‘Freedom’ and of course, one pretty incredible castle.
While Dale and Michele were still airborne, Terri spent the day sampling her fi rst (of many) Scottish pints and wandering around the historic streets. Already,
Nessie was ever present in all the gift shops along the touristy high street shops.
We fi nally met up around 10 pm and headed out to grab a bite to eat. Little did we know, Scots eat early. Like, really early. Every restaurant we stumbled across seemed to be on some sort of evening lock down. But with empty stomachs that refused to be ignored, we pressed on and managed to fi nd a great pizzeria that was still open for business. Though it wasn’t exactly the introduction to
Scottish cuisine we had hoped for, we happily tucked in. The haggis would just have to wait until we hit the Highlands.
Since no one had slept since Canada, we soon called it a night to rest up for the long journey north in the morning. After all, we may not be professional Nessie hunters, but it doesn’t take a genius to fi gure out that the chances of spotting a monster are vastly improved when one’s eyes are actually open.