And now with her great buddy Deanna there, and my writing compadre Alette and her hub Mike and their poodle in Edinburgh, there was no reason not to go.
We arrived at Mike and Alette's huge Edinburgh flat (2.5 x value of our Ottawa home, 14ft ceilings, 1000 sq ft, heritage area---wait, everything is heritage in Edinburgh) and immediately set out on a lovely walk with their poodle, Japhur. We strolled along a river in Stockbridge though the worker colonies of the old mill, passing by the ancient St. Bernards Well, with its round 1789 temple (think leafy brook riddled with old ruins tucked away in urban enclave).
The next day Alette took us on a magical mystery 2hour hike through an ancient wood snaking alongside the North Esk river.This well worn path is as old as the Inca Trail yet without a soul in sight, far more tranqui. It snaked towards the keep of Rosslyn Castle and on to the enigmatic Rosslyn Chapel. All you Da Vinci Code devotees will recall this stone wonder and its murky links to the fabled Kinghts of Templar. It takes its name from the celtic words for the sandstone overhangs and waterfalls, that dotted our trek. Through the trees we spied Hawthornden Castle, once home of poet Willliam Drummond. We picnicked on venison sandwiches by the running water and the many "burns" flowing into it. We felt like Hobbits on the way to Rivendell, minus the frightening Ringwraiths and wayward tourists.
Several leisurely miles later, Rosslyn emerged. Though it continues to go under massive restorations, it holds an eery silence. The stone walls and ceilings hark to an era when stonemasons and passionate devotion to craft and faith humbled all.
This quiet walk, and mysterious chapel would highlight our Scotland stage.
This quiet walk, and mysterious chapel would highlight our Scotland stage.
