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MONDAY, NOV. 18: Upon entering Web 13, an internet café near our flat, without our asking, the owner now brings a cappuccino to Tara and a “big mug” of white coffee to me. We spend an hour catching up on e-mail, before parting ways. Tara and Cheyenne will go shopping and I have the day to myself. I call on some New Age stores, give them samples of our CDs. Scotland seems to have just discovered the New Age with metaphysical stores all over town. I probably walk 10 miles, visiting favorite places. In a jewelry store, I find a unique Christmas present for Tara. Other stores yield presents for friends. A bagpiper plays on a corner outside Deacon Brodie’s Tavern. I linger to listen, talk to him, buy his CD. William Brodie was by day a pious, wealthy and much respected Edinburgh juryman. By night, he was a notorious gambler and thief. To support his gambling addiction and two mistresses, both of whom bore him a family, he needed a lot of money. So Brodie would call on the local shop owners who made a practice of leaving their door keys hanging on a hook in the back of the store. He made copies of the keys in clay. A local blacksmith forged keys from the molds, and Brodie returned at night and stole what he wanted. He was eventually captured and hung in 1788. Brodie supposedly inspired Edinburgh author Robert Louis Stevenson to write his famous book, “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” |
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The Writers’ Museum is housed in an exquisite example of fifteenth-century Scottish architecture. Built originally as a private home, the building has gone through many incarnations. Carved in stone above the narrow entrance door are the words, “Fear the Lord & Depart from Evil.” Although many Scottish writers have become well established in their time, three stand out and are featured here: Robert Louis Stevenson, Sir Walter Scott and Robert Burns. I’m fascinated with the personal belongings and writings related to the three men. In Stevenson’s case, there are many photographs. While a small child, Stevenson came to his mother with a picture he’d drawn, saying, “Momma, I have drawed a man’s body; shall I draw his soul now?” That thought sticks with me as I examine four floors of exhibits. When I meet the girls, Tara says she wants a Scottish meal. We eat in a Royal Mile bar. Our waitress is a young woman from Michigan who arrived in Scotland three weeks ago with her boyfriend who is attending college here. I don’t think anyone native to the UK works as a waiter or waitress. I’d like to see a concert at the Queens Hall Theater, but Tara is exhausted. She would prefer to return to the flat or remain here at the bar until the traditional music begins. We decide to wait an hour for the music, but the bar is soon packed with so many loud and drunken men, we give it up. Cheyenne is relieved. Back at the apartment, Tara treats Chey’s navel piercing, which is still bleeding. Tara says, “If I’d seen her going through this, I’d never have done it myself.” Tara has had no problems with her implanted jewel. Click HERE for the continuation |