On the cab ride from the airport into Edinburgh, I asked the driver if there were any sporting events going on—football, rugby, cricket, whatever. Here's what I learned: in Edinburgh, rugby's king, and everybody's waiting for the World Cup to get underway. Football, or soccer, is for the hooligans down Glasgow way. And the big summer sport? Golf. "We invented it, ya know." I did. He was excited about our being from Atlanta, the home of this year's PGA. Turns out we missed the Fringe Festival by two days.
My flat's just there, the older building:
@ The Whisky Museum. Me: "You're serving me 25 year old single-malt Scotch and you want me to do what? In that bucket? I don't think so."
Oh, I could drink a case of you:
Ooh, ooh, witchery woman:
OMG, they've turned Wisdaughter into a Highland cow:
Yeah, that's the kind of thing we have all over the place here in the U.S.
A daytrip to Dufftown & the family pile. "It's like Jews going to Israel," quoth Wisdoc:
Yes, kids, that's where your ancestors put naughty children, especially the ones who planked their way through world-historical cities:
Wisdaughter, is that you?
Whisky river, take my mind (River Spey, that is):
River Fiddich—yep, that's the one:
Glen Fiddich = The valley of the deer:
After a quick tour and another tasting, it's back to Edinburgh:
Brilliant! Of course, I've always felt you never hear enough lead bagpipe. (h/t to Wisdaughter's shaky hands. No longer in the form of a cow, btw. And yup, I'm in there @ 0:33. The man in black. Look away, look away, look away...)
Any special way to remember Edinburgh?
Is there any such thing? Let's investigate—for good or ill. A blog about fiction and literature, philosophy and theology, politics and law, science and culture, the environment and economics, and ethics and language, and any thing else that strikes our fancy. (Apologies to Bertrand Russell)
16 August 2011
15 August 2011
City of De-lights
Oh yes I did:
Inside Sacre Coeur:
The view from the top:
How I felt after climbing up there:
Yum:
My family is under strict instructions: if they ever—EVER—catch me wearing a pair of the European capris, they are to put a bullet through my temple:
Jaunty Jeanne:
In another station of the Metro:
Mallage (Les Halles, Film Institute):
An Indiana Jones kind of sky:
Oh, green water...I'm not that thirsty:
Headless babies, naked men, oh my:
A choir of carp? A trio of trout?
You want upskirt?
I'll give you upskirt (and probably send my hit counter flying):
You want naked ass?
I'll give you naked ass (ditto):
No telling where that finger's been:
Topiary by template:
Versailles is obscenely opulent; I can understand why the French revolted:
Art for fruit's sake (Love that Archimboldo):
Paris is great, just don't lose your head:
Hey, Isn't that Harry Potter?
Wait, wait, don't tell me:
Oh:
Silly boy:
Sunflower:
Mais Oui!
Inside Sacre Coeur:
The view from the top:
How I felt after climbing up there:
Yum:
My family is under strict instructions: if they ever—EVER—catch me wearing a pair of the European capris, they are to put a bullet through my temple:
Jaunty Jeanne:
In another station of the Metro:
Mallage (Les Halles, Film Institute):
An Indiana Jones kind of sky:
Oh, green water...I'm not that thirsty:
Headless babies, naked men, oh my:
A choir of carp? A trio of trout?
You want upskirt?
I'll give you upskirt (and probably send my hit counter flying):
You want naked ass?
I'll give you naked ass (ditto):
No telling where that finger's been:
Topiary by template:
Versailles is obscenely opulent; I can understand why the French revolted:
Art for fruit's sake (Love that Archimboldo):
Paris is great, just don't lose your head:
Hey, Isn't that Harry Potter?
Wait, wait, don't tell me:
Oh:
Silly boy:
Sunflower:
Mais Oui!
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