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Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem.-Edgar Allan Poe

Poetry is when emotion has found its thought and thought has found words--Robert Frost

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance--Carl Sandburg

I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that is poetry--John Cage

You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some of it with you--Joseph Joubert

Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own. ~Dylan Thomas

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A Full Day in Edinburgh: Day Four, May 24

By now, you know that Kellie and I are early risers, and our first full day in Edinburgh was no exception. We left the Edinburgh House Hotel around 7:00 AM to spend the day in the most touristy part of Edinburgh, the Royal Mile, which, by the way was, YES! all uphill from where we were staying. C'mon, we were 1/4 mile from the North Sea and Edinburgh piers.

Anyway, on our two mile trek to the Royal Mile, we stopped at a Starbucks, which was one of the only things open at that early hour. Can you imagine a Starbucks in a tourist town at around 7:30? Nope, you can't. This one was nearly empty. Besides the two of us, I think there were three other customers and a couple of employees. I cannot tell you what we ate or drank. I simply do not remember, but we ate and drank in relative peace and quiet.

After the uphill trek to the Royal Mile at around 8 o'clock, of course, we found nothing open, so we turned and walked downhill(!) to take a look at Holyrood Palace, the Scottish home of the royal families of Britain since the 15th century, but also the palace of Scottish rulers since long before that.


The picture above is of Holyrood through the front gate. The man in the picture is NOT a guard. It seems that the gates are usually open, but Holyrood had a royal visitor on that day, some duke or cardinal or something, so no one was allowed inside the gates. I took a picture of the sign that said "Royal Visitors Today," but I deleted it because the sign reflected me taking a picture of it like the one of the Boswell plaque that I have later.


Around the corner where vehicle traffic enters the gates, we found the front door with the traditionally garbed guard. I think there were two of them. I don't know why I only took the picture of one. Silly me!


Finally, from the last gate that we looked through, here is a side shot of the palace that makes it look like the ancient building that it is. Keep in mind that the Northwest Tower was built in 1528 and construction began on the rest of the palace in 1671 and was completed around 1678. On any other day, it would have been possible to go inside. We simply got unlucky to be there when a member of the royal family was visiting.

By the way, one may ask, "Why build a palace when you have a castle (Edinburgh Castle) a mile away?" It seems that many royals found Edinburgh Castle too windy, drafty, and exposed to sudden storms coming off the sea. Holyrood is tucked down in between to huge rock hills. I don't recall the wind blowing down in the valley at all.


According to the blue sign on the fence, this odd little building is most often associated with Mary, Queen of Scots (1542-1587). It was originally part of a boundary wall that went around the King's privy garden and was often used as a summer home away from the stuffy palace. We couldn't see inside to tell what about the house was a "bath," so I guess we will never know. I read on the Internet that it is thought that Queen Mary bathed in white wine. Could she not have done that in the palace? Wouldn't that be awfully sticky?


Along the walls of the Scottish Parliament building (the ugliest building in the world) are plaques with quotes from famous Scottish authors. I did not know it until we got back to the hotel room, but this one is the only picture I got that is readable. Reading Gerard Manley Hopkins is problematic even when his writing is legible. "What would the world be bereft and wet and wildness?" Let them be, and we will see, I guess.


To my knowledge, the building above has no historical significance, but isn't it crazy that they would build these Gothic towers over a tavern? I mean, do people live up there? It's tiny!


This is the front of the Canongate Kirk, a Presbyterian Church built in the 17th century. According to a plaque on the grounds, many famous Scottish people are buried in the cemetery to the right of the Kirk. Kellie and I walked through the cemetery and didn't find anyone that we knew.


The above picture is of a blue man on the wall of The Waverley Hotel. Yep! That is what it is--a blue man--on the wall--just climbing, I guess.


This photo of St. Giles cathedral caused me to look at a map because we seem to have circled around and around this cathedral several times throughout the day. This showed me something that I hadn't thought of. All of the buildings that I took pictures of before this one are actually on High Street. The Royal Mile begins at Mercat Cross. The whole block between Mercat Cross and St. Giles cathedral is blocked off for pedestrians only. It is the Mecca of touristy junk. A guy with a trunk to throw money in began playing the bagpipes as we walked by, and we had to hear him all morning. Bagpipes for hours! Does anybody really think that is music? Anyway, every shop was selling kilts and other woolen accessories or whisky. Every other door seemed to be a whisky shop. I think we ended up going into St. Giles in the afternoon after we visited the Edinburgh Castle.


Above is the view of Edinburgh Castle from Market Street. In other words, if you had been a peasant or other commoner living in Edinburgh until 150 years ago, this is the constant view that you would have had if you looked up from your work or your shopping. I can't say whether it would have made me feel secure or whether the constant view of the castle would have created a disdain in me for the royals. Either way, ancient Edinburghers knew this view all too well, and now, Kellie and I have seen it.


I'll be honest. Even in my two or three Master's level courses on Neoclassism, I never had to read Boswell's Life of Johnson, but I can guarantee it would have been extremely boring. Every English Lit person must read Prince Rasselas of Abyssinia and everyone knows of Dr. Samuel Johnson's tremendous influence on the English language and literature. I am not a great fan, but I understand his importance. Anyway, the famous Dr. Johnson and his famous biographer ate at this building, and I took a picture of the plaque on the outside.

Finally, I am going to leave you with two sides of a sandwich board that stood outside a Whisky Tour shop, one of probably one hundred on the Royal Mile. I believe the sentiments to be true. The funny thing is that Kellie and I both enjoy drinking whisky and, in our travels, have become connoisseurs of a sort. We have been to the Jack Daniel's distillery twice, George Dickel once, and Uncle Nearest once. We have done two whisky tasting "schools" and know quite a bit about whisky, how its made, and how to drink it to get the most enjoyment. The thing is that neither of us care for the "earthy" taste of Scotch whisky. They say, "Notice the peat flavor." I say, "Yeah, tastes like dirt." Who wants to drink dirt? Anyway, on the way back to the hotel later in the day, Kellie and I had a drink of some Jack Daniels. Stick with what you know you like, I say. The next day in York we had some Scottish Whisky because that is all the bar had, but we have had Jameson's before.

Here are the two signs. I'll be back in a day or two with the afternoon at Edinburgh Castle.




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I find that I cannot exist without Poetry--without eternal poetry--half the day will not do--the whole of it--I began with a little, but habit has made me a Leviathan.-John Keats

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value.-T. S. Eliot

A man may praise and praise, but no one recollects but that which pleases.-George Gordon, Lord Byron

The great beauty of poetry is that it makes everything in every place interesting.-John Keats

Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion and passionate flow of poetry to the subtleties of intellect and to the stars of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken and heterogeneous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, half of image, and half of abstract meaning. The one sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point and drapery.-S. T. Coleridge

The purpose of rhythm, it has always seemed to me, is to prolong the moment of contemplation, the moment when we are both asleep and awake, which is the one moment of creation.-W. B. Yeats

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