The Bonny Tour: Part One

Right. So. Amazing how little one cares about seeing a desired destination when you arrive on .85 hours of sleep out of 24.

But, my best friend and I managed to not fall asleep on our feet as we began a look-see around Edinburgh.

And because our hotel wasn't accepting check-ins until 2pm--roughly six hours from the time we arrived.

And because it would turn out to be the only really nice day of the six we were to spend there.

Apologies for the overexposure.

We went as far in as we could, but decided not to do the tour. Kind of pricey.

But cool, anyway. Seriously.

It is rather awe-inspiring to be facing a structure with many centuries of history to its credit.

Edinburgh is the seventh largest city in the UK, and has some of the richest--and most--gruesome history around...er, as I came to find out through a few ghost tours (but that's the next post).

 

Due to our weariness, there were random moments of hilarity. These moments may have only been funny because we both were walking zombies at this point--all Jello-y legs and yawning maws stumbling around taking pictures.

Considering that Edinburgh has more dead folks buried under it than live ones walking around, it was fitting. I figure it will be ground zero for the next zombie apocalypse, so we were really just practicing the footwork. We got some looks when we started shouting "Brains!" though.

Ahem.

We found a bench to park ourselves on along Princes Street, which was out of the way of the zillions of runners out for the Edinburgh Marathon. Great timing on our part.

The bench had this sticker on it.

I thought it was funny.

I was tired.

Sue me.

We did a lot of wandering around. Edinburgh really is a feast for the eyes. Even weary ones like ours. All medieval architecture and curious little alleyways (closes).

Edinburgh is a walking city, and we came across a particular piece of street art that caused a moment's pause.

I believe the conversation went something like:

Me: It looks like they tried for some sort of fertility-goddess-like resemblance.

Mel: or a steaming pile of Sh*t.

The women captured behind this was depositing her cigarette ashes into it.

Yep, art is so totally subjective.

At this point, we had to sleep, so we went back to our lodging and looked pathetic enough to be checked in early.

Ghost tours up next.