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You can't take your shoes when you go

Scotland Day 4 and 5

By Tineke Ziemer

March 7^th, 2019

the grand capital

Edinburgh. A compact city of hills, crammed to the hilt with Medieval and Georgian architecture. Gazillions of tourists. Not my kind of place, really. But amidst the throngs, I managed to sneak away through many a narrow 'close,' find hidden gardens, and explore forgotten grave yards. Those were my moments of quiet where I connected with the Old Souls of Edinburgh.

One of the major highlights of the entire trip was the Ceilidh we attended in Edinburgh! We spent the night learning traditional Scottish group dances to a live band. The music was amazing, the people were so much fun. I was covered in sweat from God only knows how many bodies by the time I dosey doed through the entire crowd. I met a bearded dude in a kilt named Pierre, who looked Scottish for obvious reasons, but was actually a French guy living in Sweden. Confused? So was I! We laughed so hard it hurt, stumbling through complicated sequences of dance steps with total strangers. At one point, Cheryl and I braved a dance together, only to turn and see our entire table in stitches watching us. Apparently, with Cheryl being over six feet tall and me barely making 5 feet, we made a hilarious couple. To remember the evening, I took with me a souvenir that lasted throughout the next 10 days of the trip and for several weeks afterwards: an injured foot courtesy a terribly drunk old guy who accidentally kicked me. This was after he fell headlong into a row of chairs and managed to get back up to continue the dance. Good times, folks. Good times.

Unfortunately, saving us the terrible embarrassment and starving you of some very rich entertainment, there were no cameras allowed in the venue.

The second morning in the capital dawned bright and sunny and we enjoyed a walk along Miller Row and through the absolutely enchanting Dean Village.

I took almost 500 photos in two days in Edinburgh. I deleted all but 90 and most of those were far from being works of art. However, I did manage to capture this one in a little deserted graveyard on the Royal Mile. This lonely pair of shoes was tucked under a headstone. I never saw another soul besides my friend the whole time we explored, but there were, indeed, the stories of many souls lingering.