Team Robb Abroad: Day Three: All the Rest

On leaving the Castle we headed back to Waverley Bridge where the kids were rewarded with some more bungee trampoline time. This time they were both experts so were flipping and spinning the moment they were strapped into their harnesses. Judging from the huge grins when they got off I think they enjoyed themselves. With the weather on the inclement side we opted for an easy food court lunch, which again brought smiles to the kids faces with McDonalds on the menu. Thankfully the food court offered somewhat more healthy options for the grown ups!

And now ladies and gentlemen for the pièce de résistance of the day as we made our way to the bus terminals and caught a ‘very special’ bus that would take us down to the Firth of Forth (try saying that a few times quickly!)

After a short bus trip we were there, the calm blue waters of the firth (I wish!). What followed was a delightful hour or so on a pleasure craft touring the sights of the historic firth (Incidentally, a Firth is the word in the Lowland Scots languages to denote various coastal waters. It is used to describe a large sea bay, or even a strait.)

Abbey makes some friends, before almost being blown away!

Our ‘pleasure craft’ the Forth Belle

Whilst waiting for the Forth Belle to fight its way towards us through the angry seas we got a good look at what has to be the most over engineered rail bridge, befittingly named the Forth Bridge (I am starting to see a naming pattern here!)

The Forth Bridge, spanning the Firth of Forth, under which we were to pass onboard the Forth Belle

We were to be informed via the commentary on board the Forth Belle and again on our bus when returning to town that construction of an earlier bridge, designed by Sir Thomas Bouch (which in the Scottish accent of our onboard commentary was pronounced ‘Botch’ – starting to get the picture!), got as far as the laying of the foundation stone, but was stopped after the failure of another of his works, the Tay Bridge. (This bridge collapsed on 28 December 1879 when it was hit by strong side winds. A train was travelling over it at the time, and 75 people died.) The project was handed over to two other Englishmen and was completed in 1890. During its construction, over 450 workers were injured and 98 lost their lives.

What puzzled me was, according to our narrator, the collapse of Bouch’s bridge is the origin of the phrase “a botched job”. I have, naturally, since researched this and discovered the word ‘botch’ goes back to the Middle English (1350-1400) word ‘bocchen’ meaning to ‘patch up or repair’ and later, by 1530, changing to mean ‘to spoil by unskillful work.’ First rule of etymology: the more interesting a word-origin story is, the less likely it is to be true. In my humble opinion the Scots are talking this one up and poor old Bouch may was simple aptly named but that was about the sum of it.

Getting back on track, the Forth Belle eventually docked and we clambered merrily on board. Given the rather cold, blustery conditions we immediately headed below decks but then the boat rolled and I immediately headed back up preferring to freeze to death with abundant fresh air than throw up in relative warmth! Need I add that this caused a great deal of amusement amongst certain family members – actually all of them!

Looking at the photos please don’t be fooled. I was the only one who remained on deck for the entire cruise with my supportive family popping up now and then to say hello – and see if I could turn any greener!

The Firth of Forth is the estuary or firth of Scotland’s River Forth, where it flows into the North Sea between Fife to the north and West Lothian, the City of Edinburgh and East Lothian to the South. It was known as Bodotria in Roman times. Geologically, the Firth of Forth is a fjord, formed by the Forth Glacier in the last glacial period.

Today we travelled first under the nearby Forth Road Bridge then back under the Forth Bridge doing a wide loop in the Firth taking in the sights of Inchcolm Island and even spotting some curious seals but alas it was the wrong season for the local puffins.

Inchcolm Abbey dates back to the 12th Century, being founded by King David I, after his brother King Alexander I was forced to seek shelter there during a very stormy crossing of the Forth in 1123.

If you look closely kids someone is looking back at you!

Despite the increasing swell and freezing conditions I did manage to keep my lunch down and also have my interest piqued by one fascinating story, which took place on nearby Inchkeith Island. During the reign of King James IV in the Renaissance, Inchkeith was the site of an extraordinary experiment. In 1493, the King directed that a mute woman and two infants be transported to the island, in order to ascertain which language the infants would grow up to speak isolated from the rest of the world. He hoped to discover the 'original' language, or language of the Gods. According to accounts, the infants did not speak at all and in fact all three died of starvation.

After what felt like an eternity we were back on dry land and huddled on the far warmer bus heading back into Edinburgh. With rain pelting on the windows and the bus swerving around the narrow streets of town I was more than pleased when we finally arrived back on Waverely Bridge. Vowing to walk from now on regardless of the rain, we made our way back up to the Royal Mile in search of shelter and afternoon tea. This we found in the tavern of Deacon Brodie, Scotland’s real life inspiration for Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

Brodie was the son of a well-known cabinetmaker, and even though he inherited a great sum of money upon his father's death (as well as his highly respected business), he could not keep a dark side of his nature from rearing its head. He roamed the dark, dangerous streets of Edinburgh by night frequenting the most disreputable whorehouses, gambling dens, and pubs. His companions were the lowest sort – drunkards, whore-masters, burglars, and worse. He gambled constantly and recklessly, incurring great debts.

But none of this activity was known to the city elders, and other pillars of the community. Brodie even became a respected member of the Town Council (hence his title of "Deacon"). His talents as a cabinet-maker, tutored as he was by his father, were well known and appreciated by the wealthy members of society who eagerly, and unknowingly, allowed a dangerous wolf in amongst the sheep. With legitimate access to impressive houses, he secretly made wax impressions of the door keys. When the time was right, and with an inside knowledge of the comings and goings of his patrons, he returned time and again, to house after house, to pilfer property, valuables, and money.

His story, not surprisingly, culminated at the end of a noose.

Along the way Abbey became the proud owner of the most amazing balloon sculpture, a mermaid, quite apt for the weather of the day!

Warming up at the Deacon Brodie Tavern

A short walk up the Royal Mile was Glandstone’s Land, a surviving 17^th century high-tenement house. The "Land" was originally built in 1550, but was bought and redeveloped in 1617 by a prosperous Edinburgh merchant and burgess Thomas Gledstanes. Its prominent siting (on the Royal Mile between Edinburgh Castle and the Palace of Holyrood) and the extent of its accommodation mark out the affluence of its mercantile owner. However, not only did Gledstane’s family reside there, he let out parts of the building to an assortment of tenants of different social classes (another merchant, a minister, a knight, and a guild officer). Thus the restored building allows an insight into varieties of Edinburgh life of the period and it was fascinating to see the cramped conditions in which people were forced to live. Even with money, the physical size of the lot, meant that the house could only be extended in depth or in height. As a result, the house is six storeys tall.

Keeping on with the theme of indoor exploration we made our way up to St Giles Cathedral also known as the High Kirk of Edinburgh (Kirk can mean ‘church’ in general or the ‘Church of Scotland’ in particular). St Giles' was only a cathedral in its formal sense (i.e. the seat of a bishop) for two periods during the 17th century (1635–1638 and 1661–1689). The church has been one of Edinburgh's religious focal points for approximately 900 years. The present church dates from the late 14th century, though it was extensively restored in the 19th century. The cathedral is dedicated to Saint Giles, who is the patron saint of Edinburgh, as well as of cripples and lepers, and was a very popular saint in the Middle Ages (when there was an abundance of cripples and lepers I aussume!).

I admit to being very naughty and not paying the £2 fee for taking photos (I only took a few anyway!). The kids were particularly taken by a statue of an Angel but I must confess I think this was due to their fascination with the ‘Weeping Angels’ from Dr Who that turn you to stone if you look away from them for a second.

St Giles depicted protecting a hind from an arrow, which had pierced his own body

Whatever you do, don’t look away, don’t even blink!

With the weather well and truly set in we decided to grab an early dinner whilst we were already out rather than face heading out again later this evening. This proved easier said than done with everyone having moved indoors with the same idea. We ended up back at the Black Bull finding a quite spot with a large table so we could spread out and relax.