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Sally Forth  MALCOLM
ROGERS visits the Scottish capital on the banks of the Firth of Forth.
But for the citizens of Edinburgh back in the 18th century — the
ones who heralded in the Enlightenment — you would likely not be
reading this article today. You’d probably be down in the square
throwing turnips at a witch.
The Enlightenment’s Age Of Reason eased Europe into modern times,
so it’s only fitting that Edinburgh boasts some of the most inspiring
architecture in these islands, reflecting its significance in European
affairs. The New Town (actually a couple of centuries old) is the largest
area of Georgian architecture in Europe, presumably the world.
Despite this cultural brio, Edinburgh is stuck with the less than high-minded
nick-name “Auld Reekie’. The smog and smell from the Old Town
— where for centuries raw sewage was tipped out onto the streets
— would have been common enough throughout most of medieval Europe;
it seems unclear why only Edinburgh’s association with the whiff
has, as it were, lingered on.
The historic centre of Edinburgh is bisected by the remarkably pong-free,
green swathe of Princes Street Gardens. To the south the view is dominated
by Edinburgh Castle, perched atop its dramatic crag, with the city’s
labyrinthine Old Town sweeping down along the ridge.
To the north lies Princes Street and the elegant neo-classical New Town.
Both the Old Town and New Town districts are UNESCO World Heritage Sites,
and with over 4,500 listed buildings Edinburgh provides one of the finest
urban tapestries in Europe.
For a panoramic view of the city head for Arthur’s Seat, an 800
ft extinct volcanic outcrop (or at least there’s been no sign of
life these last 350million years) which looms over the city.
Oh, and here’s a Grade A, 25-carat globule of trivia: The word panorama
was originally coined by the Irish painter Robert Barker — back
in the 1780s — to describe his panoramic paintings of Edinburgh.
And if you’re in the market for this sort of thing, Hitler forbade
the bombing of the city — had his European takeover bid been successful,
Scotland’s capital was to become his HQ. The age of Enlightenment
would assuredly have been over.
Great Scot
The ancient cobblestones of the Royal Mile, stretching between Edinburgh
Castle and the Palace of Holyroodhouse, have been trodden by some legendary
figures: Bonnie Prince Charlie; the sinister body-snatchers (and worse)
Burke & Hare; and James Connolly, Edinburgh-born revolutionary and
road sweeper.
Apparently the 1916 hero kept the Royal Mile clean of sweetie wrappers
before heading for the ancestral home to help free Ireland.
The Royal 1.609km wends past the warren of steep alleyways or ‘closes’
of medieval Edinburgh — where history both dramatic and terrible
has been enacted — before reaching Scotland’s new Parliament
building.
Edinburgh is a hilly city — Robert Louis Stephenson wasn’t
joking when he announced: “Edinburgh is a precipitous city.”
No wonder there’s a bench on St. Andrew Square which commemorates
one Monsieur Lauener who, apparently, “liked to sit down”.
Indeed.
At the top of the Royal Mile, dominating the sky-line of the city, Edinburgh
Castle is just about the best known castle in the world. The history of
Scotland lurks behind these Gormenghast-like turrets — the oldest
building dates back to the 11th century.
Heading down Castlehill, past statues worn by moody weather, you come
to St. Giles Cathedral. Properly called the High Kirk of Edinburgh, whose
minister during the second half of the 16th century was John Knox. He
was the man who attempted the impossible: To square the circle between
two wildly variant models of religious belief, the Celtic and the Calvinist.
With mixed results.
Just down the road stands Canongate Kirk, where the hugely influential
Adam Smith, author of the Wealth of the Nations, takes his eternal repose.
Nearby lies “Clarinda Mrs MacLehose, sweetheart of poet Robert Burns.”
The graveyard is also the last resting place of Robert Fergusson who died
in an asylum in 1774 aged 24. Burns, the quintessential Scottish poet
and songwriter, described Fergusson as “my elder brother in misfortune,
by far my elder brother in the muse”. Now that’s an epitaph
to, well, die for.
At the end of the Royal Mile stands Holyroodhouse. Many of Britain’s
royals have enjoyed B&B at these top drawer digs, going as far back
as 1128. Mary Queen of Scots, Queen Victoria, and of course the Duke of
Edinburgh and his missus have all crashed here.
Naturally enough, with a history as lengthy and tortuous as Edinburgh’s,
museums are in abundant supply. The National Museum of Scotland housed
in its stunning new building is an essential stop. Knowledge is free here
— just bring your own container.
Princes Street, Edinburgh’s main thoroughfare, provides a magnificent
view of the Castle to the west and the Scott Monument to the south (between
a Rock and a Bard place, as it were).
The Scott Monument, in honour of Sir Walter, is the largest monument to
a writer anywhere in the world. Erected entirely through public subscription,
the huge Gothic spire was created by joiner George Kemp.
While work was still underway, Mr. Kemp fell into a nearby canal and drowned.
A profound lesson surely — worthy of Scott himself — but we’ll
leave you, dear reader, to reflect on its significance.
To further your ruminations on the matter, you can climb the monument
for £3 — but you’ll need to be reasonably thin (and
fit).
Upper High Street houses the U-shaped City Chambers, designed by John
Adam. Along with brother Robert, the Adam boys changed the face of Britain
by mixing the severe Palladian style with spirited variations from ancient
Greece and Rome. Nearby is a statue of David Hume the philosopher, another
famous Edinburgh son.
His grave is in the Old Calton Burying Ground, dominated by a tall, black
obelisk of the Political Martyr’s Monument. Hume, a philosophising
atheist, is a fascinating example of Scottish cultural dichotomy; he used
his huge, self-gained intellect to dismantle something Scotland held precious,
its faith in God.
At the end of Princes Street is the Cathedral Church of St. Mary’s,
the seat of the Cardinal Archbishop of St. Andrews and Edinburgh. The
current incumbent in Ballycastle man Cardinal Keith O’Brien, one
of only two Irish-born members of the College of Cardinals who would vote
in any forthcoming conclave to elect a new pope.
The Cathedral, on Manor Place, is just shy of 200 years old.
Piping hot
Edinburgh is immersed in music in a way few other cities are. Bagpipes
are, of course, to the fore. You might even have the situation where you
fall in chatting with your taxi driver and he’ll produce his practice
chanter. And play you a tune on it at the traffic lights.
“Ah’ll just give ye a wee strathespey,” announced the
driver, probably the strangest thing a cabbie has ever said to me.
Whether it’s against the law to play bagpipes in a taxi (possibly
falling under the mobile phone ban) I’m not sure.
You might even gaze through the window of Blow Me on the Royal Mile (www.bagpipe.co.uk)
where the pipemaker inside will undoubtedly beckon you in. Tell him that
you’re from Ireland and he’ll play the Star of the Co. Down,
Kelly from Killane or Molly Malone — and if there happens to be
a woman from Dublin in the shop (as there was) she’ll dance a jig.
It’s that sort of place.
For less surreal sessions, though just as stirring, head for the crucible
of Edinburgh’s folk music, Sandy Bell’s on Forrest Road. The
greats of the Scottish tradition, including Ewan MacColl, the Corries
(who wrote Flower of Scotland) and Eric Bogle (Willie McBride fame) have
all strummed their stuff here.
If you have your instrument — or voice — with you and fancy
a blast, present yourself at the Royal Oak in Infirmary Street, an Edinburgh
institution and “a legend in its own opening time”.
And talking of opening hours, the craic goes on here until 3am (as it
does in most Edinburgh pubs). What in Ireland we call caning it. But at
least you can wake up to a pocket-sized gem of a city, with sparkling
water at its edges, a great big volcano in the middle, and some of the
most stunning architecture in Europe.
For more information www.visitscotland.com/city
breaks or call the booking and information line on 1 800 932 510
Edinburgh Pass
Buses are reliable, frequent and full of people willing to tell you where
to get off — though if you’re a woman you have to let them
call you hen. The Edinburgh Pass allows you free bus travel, and also
includes free entry into more than 30 attractions, travel on the Airlink
from the airport to the city, plus discounts in shops and restaurants.
The card is available in one, two or three-day passes, which cost £24,
£36 and £48 respectively for an adult pass and £16,
£24 and £32 for the child pass.
www.edinburghpass.com
Malcolm Rogers stayed at:
Balmoral Hotel
1 Princes Street
Edinburgh
0131 556 2414
www.thebalmoralhotel.com |
