Exploring Edinburgh’s Old Town

Saturday, March 22, 2025

Public service announcement: Best shower of the trip. Managed to wash my hair and (wait for it) shave my legs. Too much information?

An early-ish start to the day as we were meeting a fellow blogger – Alex from Scribble and Scran – at a coffee shop near the start of the Mile. It’s always a tad daunting meeting someone for the first time that you know only through their writing, but because the voice you’ve gotten to know in their blog is, well, their voice, the hour or so flies by.

After this, we walked back up the Mile, calling in at Giles Cathedral (check out the inscription in the memorial below… “his life was lovely and pleasant”).

…and the Writer’s Museum …

… before walking down Victoria Street (said to be J.K. Rowling’s inspiration for Diagon Alley)

…and onto Grassmarket, where a small market is happening. There are so many people around, despite it being out of season, and we’re again glad we’re not travelling in the summer. We’d skipped breakfast, so we shared an excellent sausage roll (I score it 9/10) and a box of noodles.

Grassmarket was originally an open marketplace for the sale of livestock and wholesale supplies. It was also a place of execution, with over 100 Covenanters (amongst others) being hanged here in the 17^th century.

As an aside, the story of the covenanters is an interesting one – and one that has sent me down many a rabbit hole. Labelled religious dissenters for their protection of the Presbyterian faith, some of my ancestors signed the original covenant and another of my ancestors, John Howie, authored the book “The Scots Worthies”, a 19th-century account of the time. The family farm, Lochgoin (or Lochgoyne), near Fenwick in East Ayrshire, Scotland, had served as a sanctuary for Covenanters during the “Killing Time” (1680-1688). Mum still has a copy of the book at home. That, however, is a story for a family history blog and not my travel diaries.

From here, we walked up to Greyfriars Kirkyard and lurked about the edges of a tour group to hear about the story of the little dog, Bobby (Greyfriars Bobby), and the iron grave cages or “mort safes” which were put around the graves to prevent bodysnatching.

Back up to the Mile and across to Princes Street, we made our way to Waverley Station, where we met up with my Tumbarumba-born Glasgow-based cousin, Sharon, her daughter and her daughter’s partner for a pub-crawl catch-up.

Our first pub, The Devil’s Advocate, was back on the Mile. The bar, located in Advocates Close, a narrow alleyway dating back to the 1500s, is situated in the former boiler room of the Evening News building.

After a couple of pints here, we climbed a stupidly steep set of stairs (honestly, if you lived in this city, you’d have buns of steel) and down the Mile a bit to the World’s End Pub.

Back in the day the city walls were situated just outside this pub, so to the people of Edinburgh, the world outside these gates was no longer theirs.

It was noisy and standing room only, but after a couple of baby Guinness shots (Kahlua topped with Baileys) I somehow got into a discussion with couple from … well, it doesn’t matter where they were from … who ended up here only because they’d been rerouted to Edinburgh after Heathrow had been closed the previous day due to a fire causing a power outage. I managed to convince them that in Australia not everyone has kangaroos in their front lawns, we’re not scared to swim in the ocean, and there really is a difference between Australia and Austria. I really hoped they were joking about that last one. Somehow, we got chatting about politics, and … well, Grant pulled me away before the conversation went downhill.

By now, Grant and I were starved. We’d walked over 20,000 steps (most of them uphill, or so it seemed), so we were grateful to get a table in our final pub, Deacon Brodies, a good way back up the Mile.

Inside, the décor tells the story of William Brodie, a man who was a gentleman by day and a villain by night. He was the real-life inspiration for Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. The pub was, however, heaving, so I was unable to get any decent photos.

Grant had schnitzel with garlic butter and chips, while I chose a fish pie (with hardly any fish) and carrots and broccolini.

Outside, it was cold, and a damp mist was settling, but we walked back up the Mile to see the close that Sharon and I decided had been named after our family – Lyon’s Close. These narrow alleys are usually named after prominent people, families or occupations, and date back to the 16^th century, but I haven’t been able to find out any more information about it, or why it was also once known as Stalker’s Close too.

By now, Grant and I are completely jatz-crackered (knackered), so we walk back down the Mile, bid Sharon and co farewell, and head home via the dark and misty park.

The stats…

Temperature: 7-14

Miles travelled*: 0 in the car

*Even though we work in kms in Australia, all signage in the UK is in miles, so that’s what I’m going with.

These posts are taken directly from my travel journal … you can find the series here.