Edinburgh

No prizes for guessing this landmark.

Despite the widely known fact that there are no Scottish people in Edinburgh, I couldn’t have Chris come to Scotland and not visit the City at least once.

Of all of the Scottish pish that was on sale in an even greater volume than what I remember from the last time I sauntered down the Royal Mile, this has to be the most ridiculous of it all…

Have they never heard of a glass bottle of Irn-Bru?

Anyway, we met up with my old pal Gina, which is always nice… especially since I used to travel through to Edinburgh on a regular basis when I was but a wee teenager to hang out with her and some other vagabonds that we knew from the internet.

We were using forums and IRC on our 28k dial up modems whilst all the other kids were out playing… and now all those kids are unemployed and we get paid to sit on the internet all day. Take that society.

The Castle is always an impressive sight…

Oh, except when they put up that stupid monstrosity of a seating platform for the Military Tattoo. What a way to ruin a spectacular view across an ancient City. The least they could do is remove it swiftly after the event. This next picture is about the only one where the bloody thing wasn’t visible.

This is the Scottish Parliament.

It looks like something out of a Windows XP promotional graphic.

We opted to climb up Arthur’s Seat… well, some of it. Despite the impressive views, I wasn’t too keen on a two hour trek. If there had been a bottle of whisky to hand it may have made things a bit more interesting. Apparently people fall off the top when they’re drunk all the time, which seems an awfully Scottish way to die: tumbling off a mountain-like place pished.