Freeeeeeedommmm

I heard tell from a Scotsman on an internet forum I frequent that they erected a statue of Mel Gibson (as William Wallace) in Edinburgh, after he made Braveheart. Underneath they had inscribed the word FREEDOM. They had to remove it after it was vandalised so many times, in the same way, (in the words of the scottish forumgoer) "as that big old fecker vandalised our glorious history with his movie. Why they didn't gut the bastard for real at the end of the movie when they had the chance to, I will never know."

Welcome to Scotland. That's what the sign said when we crossed over into these parts. I must say, the country itself, and the people for that matter have been very welcoming. The weather less so, but that's par for the course. I know everyone said it would be windy and cold, but I wasn't prepared for just how bad it would be. And this is summer. Pick the Australian - I'm complaining about temperatures of 10 degrees Celsius, whereas your average Scot is used to a negative in front of that, a few more zeroes and a wind factor measurable in atmospheres.

Nevertheless, despite being nearly blown over the battlements of Edinburgh castle I had a very enjoyable time there. The castle itself is brilliant, and should be first port of call for anyone visting the city. It really is the centre of Edinburgh - no matter where you are in the town, you can see the castle looming over everything. Inside, we found museums for both the Royal Scots foot regiment, as well as the Royal Scots Dragoons - although both regiments date from the 1600's, the equipment has changed a great deal over the years. The dragoons have traded their lances and Scots Grey horses for Challenger Tanks and Helicopters, for instance. They had a great video inside the dragoons museum that would have had Nye reduced to a quivering mass - great footage of colossal tanks going across country, running over trees, cars, small houses etc.

They also had the Scottish War Museum, detailing Scotland's military history as a whole (and yes, they have a lot of it to talk about), along with the repository for the Scottish crown jewels. The jewels have also had an interesting history - they've been hidden from Oliver Cromwell, forgotten about for a hundred years whilst in a locked room in the castle and buried deep in the catacombs of the castle during World War 2, in case of German invasion.

So, on the whole, the castle is well worth the rather exorbitant asking price of 10 pounds. You even get to see a cannon being fired - to mark the time of 1:00pm. When asked why the cannon isn't fired at midday, the reason seems to be good old fashioned Scottish stinginess. You only need fire one shell instead of twelve, you see.

On our way back from the castle the old man and I stopped at a pub for a cold pint of lager, followed by a warm pint of Caledonian ale, which was also nice. Not completely sold on the idea of warm beer, but I can see why they do it. I think I already mentioned this, but, for those of you slow on the uptake - it is cold here.

What with the castle, the beers and the cold it was a memorable day. Seriously. I've got photos to prove it.


This is the main part of Edinburgh castle - The Keep, if you will. The castle itself extends a long way back behind the entrance, but this gives you a fairly good idea of what you're in for. The view from the battlements of Edinburgh city is fantastic.


As shown here. I don't have names for any of the especially prominent structures here, but the view is to the north, and the large body of water beyond the town is the Firth of Forth.


Me, looking like a gimp and about to be blown over the edge by the wind.


The signal gun, being prepped for firing. This involved loading a blank round, standing with a stopwatch for a minute, then stepping forward and firing.


The old man on Edinburgh High Street, also known as the "Royal Mile." The effect of all the terraced housing is not unlike that of a wind tunnel. This is not necessarily a good thing.

The next day, we left Edinburgh by rather a roundabout route, crossing over the Firth of Forth bridge, and heading south via Glasgow. The plan, according to the oldies, was to visit the Lake District. Apparently when they were here 30 years or so ago they never got a good look at it - it was raining. Fortunately the notoriously fickle English weather held off the rain, although not the wind. Still very breezy. But even the wind and the cold couldn't detract from what is a truly fantastic landscape. To explain, the lake district is made up of a number of glacial lakes, formed when England was in the grip of the ice age. The result of this is several deep lakes, and some fantastic mountainsides. When I saw it, I thought of the scenery from Lord of the Rings. (Also known as the longest ever New Zealand tourism ad.) According to the old man, a lot of people come to the lake district to retire - I can see why. It's almost like a fairyland. I hate to sound like I'm gushing on, but it really is fantastic. To save me typing out several thousand words, I'll just put up a few pictures.


The Firth Rail Bridge. This was built in 1890, and is still going strong. We had quite a few trains thundering over it in the five minutes or so we were nearby. Also, you get some pretty large waves in the Firth of Forth - it's open to the sea, and massive tidal currents bring water in and out every day.

This is Buttermere Water, with one of the aforementioned glacial mountains behind it. The lakes are kept full by springs that come out from the mountains, as well as surface runoff from all the high ground surrounding them. Needless to say, the water is excruciatingly cold.


This is Saddle Mountain - named for obvious reasons - and you can see a waterfall plunging down the side of it into a lake at the bottom, which is not in view.


This was Honister pass, which we had to drive up to get out of the Lake District. It's quite a climb, as you can see. At the top there's a slate mine. We paused here for a bit for a bite to eat and some photos, since there was a bus negotiating the slope at the time, and we didn't feel like sitting behind him for half an hour while he did it.


Me at the top of Honister pass. Again, looking like a gimp. Must get a haircut today.

The following day - the last full day of travel, was primarily a motorway fest, as we made our way back to London. However, we did start the day with a dalliance through the Yorkshire dales. This is an area of rolling hills, completely devoid of trees and infested with dour old buggers from Yorkshire who would explode if coerced into laughter. It's frightfully boring though, so I'll spare you the photos.

Anyways, today is Saturday, I'm back in London - for the time being. The next few days are fairly hectic. My sister Laura is arriving in England this afternoon, for a month or so during her uni holidays. The old man is flying back to Australia on Wednesday, the same day that me, my sisters and mum are heading to Italy for about 10 days. I plan to do sightseeing and stuff - their plans involve shopping. So again, I may be offline for some time, depending on what wireless is like in Italy. Hopefully I can get internet a bit more often. (Glen, I'm looking at you here for advice.) Before that though, I have to cheer Australia on against Italy this Monday at 4pm - should be a cracking game. It'll mean the difference between either being welcomed or spat on when we get to Italy - I guess I could always resort to the time honoured ploy of being from New Zealand or Canada.

But, once this Italian sojourn is over I can perhaps get on with the real reason of coming to England - work. I tell ya, this tourist stuff is actually starting to grate. (Cue scoffing noises and abuse.) Seriously though, it'll be good to be back at work, earning pounds and returning to something approaching normality. Living out of a suitcase and a credit card is not for me.

Cheers all.