Yoga, King Arthur, castles, kilts, and whisky

In what I'd originally planned to be my final European weekend-abroad adventure of 2012, I set off Friday on a return trip to Edinburgh, just over nine years since my last visit. I'd been invited by Cassie, the London roommate of my high school friend Nina who'd studied abroad the same semester as I. Back in our 2008 study abroad term, Cassie and I had both hosted each other between London and Pisa. Earlier this year, Facebook made us realize that we were both back on this side of the Atlantic, and so we returned the favor between Paris and Edinburgh.

Of course in such a historic and picturesque city, the first thing I had to do on Saturday morning was head on over to... a yoga class. I am becoming a pro at crashing yoga classes in other schools of the DeRose Method (which I study in Paris) when traveling. By now I've hit up London, Rome, New York, and-- add it to the list-- Edinburgh.

The DeRose Method yôga school in Edinburgh with the lovely instructor Luciana.

After I got the yoga out of the way, Cassie took me to an absolutely adorable and delicious vegetarian restaurant called Henderson's where we grabbed a quick lunch before heading up to, ohh, just the castle up the hill a.k.a. extinct volcano which has been occupied for over 7000 years. You know, the neighborhood castle. Because you've got one of those, right? Doesn't everyone? [Ahem: I love Europe.]

Cassie and me and the Edinburgh castle. No big deal.

After that we just took a stroll through town along the Royal Mile...

When you live in Edinburgh, this is what a stroll through town looks like... on the rare occasion when the skies are blue... was I ever lucky with my weekend weather!

We swung past a wedding party and yes, you've got that right, the men here really do get married in kilts.

And what better to do on a relaxing Saturday afternoon but to grab a coffee in the Elephant House, the café where J.K. Rowling wrote much of the first Harry Potter?

Unless of course you get waylaid when heading to the café by the wild giraffe of Edinburgh. (Never fear, he is a good giraffe, as his luggage clearly advertizes.)

Once you make it to the end of the Royal Mile, you'll find yourself faced with the Stata Center of Scotland, otherwise known as Scottish Parliament.

And across from Parliament, adorned with unicorns and guarded by a red lion statue wielding a sword, is the slightly less modern Palace of Holyroodhouse: part art museum, part royal residence. (Yes, this is a land where queens still reside in palaces.)

In case the Royal Mile was a bit much, you can escape by walking a mere block away from the Parliament and Palace, from which point you can begin your hike up Arthur's Seat. And by Arthur, they do mean King Arthur: this site is one of the potential sites of the legendary Camelot (or so says wikipedia).

Hiking up to Arthur's Seat

At Arthur's Seat! Who says PhD students can't pull off glamorous windblown (while holding on for dear life)?

Okay, I was a little afraid we were just going to get blown straight off the side of the hill as we were waiting for the random dude to snap our photo.

Our evening was very calm, spent with Cassie's church youth group, but one moment worth sharing was the lighting and release of the kid's Chinese lanterns. Watching the laterns lift off and drift away into pinpoints of light in the chilly night was breath-taking and made me feel like a little kid. If you've never heard of these, they are totally worth checking out.

Of course, no proper Scottish Saturday would be complete without a trip to a bar. Despite my protests, Cassie insisted I sample some Scottish whisky. I discovered that not all whiskies are peaty (thank goodness) and that in fact, I am totally a fan. On the wish list: A bottle of Glenmorangie original, described on its company's site as having "the scent of citrus and ripening peaches [...] softened by the aroma of vanilla," and going down as "first, vanilla [...] before it ripples along the palate bringing a burst of flowery fruitiness," and finally leaving "a clean and salving aftertaste with hints of orange and peach." Just remembering makes my mouth water.

My weekend abroad wrapped up quickly as my flight left mid-afternoon Sunday. Before drawing the weekend to a close, I paid a visit to the (free admission!) Scottish National Gallery, where I discovered the works of Sir James Guthrie, a Scottish Realism painter whose art has a sort of whimsical and dreamlike, reminscent quality through the blurred, calm-colored backgrounds and striking, subtly expressive subjects.

The Scottish National Gallery

Before I knew it, I had to board my (typically British double decker) bus to the airport. The weekend had flown by in such good company and surrounded by such a lovely blend of natural and man-made beauty. It was a wonderfully refreshing if brief escape. Then again, when Paris is home, it's hard to be too disappointed about the return trip.