Public expressions of love and gratitude for other family members is not the Hall way.  (Even such private affections don’t come easily it seems.) But since I’m rebellious and I occasionally like to deliberately stray from the patterns of my family of origin, I’m going to do this anyway. 

For the last eight years we lived in the same town as our parents, which meant that my mom never stayed with us for extended periods of time.  If I was sick or in need of help she would come over and load my dish washer or entertain my kids.  But we never had the pleasure of her company 24/7.  

Having her here in London was such a blessing.  She came at just the right time, the kids were all starting school and I had a learning curve about buses to and from school and it was so helpful to be able to have her either here at home with Mim and Simon, or going to and from the school with me.  Together we memorized bus times, met the teachers, sorted out transportation and then when Richard and I left for Ireland she was totally capable of running the ship without me.  In fact, she did it without me before I ever had to do it without her.  

On top of being my personal assistant to make the adjustment of the kids school schedules, she was so helpful around the house. My mom is not idle.  After a meal she was always cleaning up.  She also folded laundry, bathed children, and brushed teeth.  The kids also had her undivided attention, she was engaged with them, read them books and took them on little outings.  

Saying goodbye to her this time was much harder than saying goodbye when we left Boise.  The morning we left Boise I was running on adrenaline, I was excited and focused on what was ahead of me, and I was the one embarking on the adventure. (And I knew I would see her in just a couple months.)  Early this morning as she left with Richard to go to the airport it was me who was left behind.  I will miss her companionship. It was so pleasant having another adult to go out and explore with.  It was nice to have someone to talk to and someone to pick up my slack during the day when I was tired or my patience ran out.  She was here for a month and I’m not sure how well I’m going to do without her help. 

I love you Mom.  You are a wonderful example of unselfish service and hard work.  Sharing my life here with you was everything I hoped it would be, and your enthusiasm was noticed and appreciated.  I will miss you and I look forward to your next visit. 

A couple weeks before we left the states I had a little get together with some friends.  These friends are my “real” people and when someone asked what I was most nervous about I skipped the “finding a place to live” and went to straight to my real fear.  

“I’m afraid of feeling like an outsider.” 

We’ve been here three months now and so far I hadn’t really felt like an outsider.  Of course I have my moments of feeling so American, feeling like a stranger in this land, but never on a personal level.  On Friday night Richard had a work related dinner/event for a “going away” party and I was invited.  The email said “smart casual” for dress but I had no idea what that meant.  In the states I’m used to Richard’s dinner things and I have a good idea of what people are going to wear when the dress code is formal or casual or semi-formal.  But I had no context for this so I just made my best guess, and then changed twice after that.  I was so nervous. 

The venue was in Kensington and I was excited to see it, I knew it would be lovely.  We took the train and walked to the restaurant.  We walked through the doors and checked in with the concierge who told us which floor we were on and pointed toward the lift.  

On the lift my heart started to race and I started to panic.  There were three women on the lift with us, two younger twenty-somethings and a middle aged women.  They were dressed to the nines in slinky, fleshy outfits with jewelry the likes of which I’ve never seen, much less owned.  I felt so awkward, so homely and peasantly and under dressed.  As we walked out onto the roof top terrace I wanted to cry.  I bit my lip hard and considered walking out.  I really can’t remember feeling so inadequate and inferior. 

“I don’t belong here!” I whispered to Richard in desperation. He gave me a quick pep talk, refused to let me leave and started to introduce me to his coworkers. I piggy-backed on his confidence for the first bit and then I started to relax and get a grip on myself. 

The party turned out really fantastic.  None of the women from the elevator were part of the KPMG group, and I felt a little less ridiculous with them.  The restaurant was on the roof top of the building and was designed in a Spanish Garden motif.  The flowers, plants, shrubs were gorgeous and there was a lounge area where they served champagne and it had dark red curtains with dim lighting and cush pillows and sofas to sit on.  Richard’s coworkers and their partners were so friendly and kind, and all asked about our transition here.  The food and ambiance were wonderful, and there was a small Italian band that played and sang live music.  I made a comment about how animated they were while they sang, and someone said “That’s Italians for you!”  

We left the party a bit before midnight and the restaurant/club was just coming to life.  The young and single Chelsea elites were swarming and as we left I saw the line to get into the place extend halfway down the block.  At midnight! The night-life in London is another world I tell ya. 

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I don’t know why women can be so insecure, why I was so quick to doubt myself and my “worthiness” of being at a place like that.  It was really an awful feeling and it almost makes me angry at myself for being so timid and ashamed.   I am enough.  That’s my mantra.  If I was the tattooing type I think that’s what I’d get, inked across my wrist for crisis moments when my self-confidence is faltering and feelings of inadequacy overtake me. 

You’re enough too.  Just sayin’.  Because if I am, you are.  And even if I have this blog where I can post these neat adventures I am no more than you.  They are just neat adventures and I’m just another person yearning for love and acceptance.  

A few weeks ago a friend posted about the poppies at the Tower of London on Facebook.  Ever since I saw it I’ve been dying to go.  There are 888,246 red ceramic poppy flowers “planted” around the Tower of London in the grassy area that used to be the moat of the fortress.  There is a poppy flower for each life lost from the British Commonwealth in the first World War.  It’s a breathtaking sight, but I’ll get to that later.  

The city walks with kids card suggested eating lunch at St. Katherine’s docks, which is a little square located in the heart of the city, but it’s just out of the way enough to feel less crowded and busy.  There were some fine looking cafe’s but we discovered a mini-market and just bought street food, empanadas, fillo-pies and more macaroons. (Can I just say I have become obsessed with those spongy colorful treats?!) 

Richard was planning on leaving work early (it was a Friday) to meet us at the Tower so we finished up our lunch and made our way back up to street level. 

I’m really sorry I’m turning this post about the remarkable red poppy display at the Tower of London into an existential crisis about whether or not I should learn how to properly edit photos. 

All of that aside…

The Tower grounds were both majestic and harrowing.  The idea of each flower representing a life, was and is enough to make me emotional and heartbroken over the tragedy of war.  But I am determined to be encouraged and inspired by the British commitment to the memory of these men and women and look forward to other manifestations of their patriotism as the UK remembers 100 years since the beginning of “The Great War.”

We took a free tour when we first entered the tower gates.  It was entertaining, but hard to hear and hard to listen closely with the four kids around.  Cameron was actually quite attentive to the tour guide, but the other kids had a hard time standing in one place for too long.  I also was often confused by our guide’s sense of humor, because half the time I couldn’t tell if he was making a joke, or if in fact the severed head of a king was actually stitched back on for the sake of a portrait being painted of him.

We also saw the crown jewels which were also gorgeous, but I have mixed feelings about those too.  It is hard not to be jaded about diamonds these days, and it seems such an excessive and opulent use of money, but I tried to appreciate them nonetheless- for their artistic value and their sparkly glamour.  

There was a lot we missed, but I’m sure we’ll get to go back with other visitors in the future. 

The kids were super exhausted so we bought some snacks to bribe them to keep their legs moving back to the train station and then home. That night we treated my parents to Rox Burger– the burger joint that is all the talk in London and it’s just around the corner from us.  Brioche buns to die for. We had recorded the BSU game for Cameron and so we ate burgers and watched American football, something my dad commented that he had never expected to do in London.  

On the Thursday before Cameron and Eli started school my parents took a day trip to Dover, so I told the kids we could have an end-of-Summer party.  We started off at the Princess Diana Memorial Park in Kensington Gardens.  

Adventure Parks are a popular trend in London, and probably elsewhere, but they are based on a relatively new idea (in that last decade or so) that kids need opportunities for taking risks during play.  So these parks are meant to be more daring and less safe-guarded.  

The Princess Diana park is also based on a Peter Pan theme so the play equipment was modeled after bits of that story. 

After we left the park we went to a pizza place for lunch.  We were the only people in the restaurant which was so rare and so delightful.  It was nice and quiet and I had a great conversation with the kids about going back to school.  

After lunch we went back over to the park where I found a place in the grass to lie down, Cameron found a place in the grass to play imaginary football, and Eli and the littles found a place under a tree to use their imaginations.  

Then we took a stroll past Kensington Palace, through the gardens there, and over to the Round Pond.  

We made our way back through the park, stopping for ice cream on our way out, and to the train station.  We were all pretty exhausted but I had a fantastic time with the kids before they all headed back to school. (Fist pump!) 

After a second delicious breakfast from the lovely Kathy we reluctantly packed our suitcases and loaded our cars.  We left the guest house at about 9:20am.  We knew it was going to be a long day, but I don’t think we knew HOW long it would really end up being. 

Our first stop was just a little road off the motorway that led to Scott’s view, a spot reputed to be one of the favorite views of Sir Walter Scott.  It is rumored that he stopped here so often that his horses would pause without command, and on his funeral march the horses stopped of their own accord to offer their master one last look over the landscape.  

Then we drove.  We drove and drove and drove through field and village and farm.  

Eventually we came to the town of Jedburgh where we stopped for lunch.  My parents took a quick tour of the Mary Queen of Scots house while Richard and I let the kids have some much needed play time at a park.  

And that is the point at which I stopped taking photographs.  We crossed the border back into England, it started to rain, and we just kept driving. I wish I could say it was scenic and beautiful but it was foggy and dreary and by 4:00 in the afternoon we were all fed up of driving. 

Cameron and Eli rode in the car with my parents and fortunately Mim and Simon fell asleep for a bit.  Richard and I were also pretty proud of ourselves for finding a circuitous route around some bad traffic that probably saved us an hour of sitting at a standstill on the motor way.  

On we drove… eventually we stopped for dinner at what they apparently call a “Welcome Break” or what we would call a rest stop/gas station in America.  We got some food and used the toilets and on we went.   Then it got dark and Richard and my dad developed a system so my dad could make sure he was always following our taillights and not a different car. Richard would tap his breaks two times and my dad would flash his brights.  It worked really well so that we never got separated.  

We didn’t get back to our house until around 10:00 at night.  We have made drives that long before, we take a road trip to Las Vegas at least once a year.  But something about this drive just felt soooooo long.  

I hate to end the Scotland saga on such a pathetic note- so I’ll say this to wrap it up. 

Scotland was magnificent, historic, and unforgettable.  I feel tremendously grateful to have seen what I saw and met who I met and ate what I ate.  I hope we have another opportunity to make it back to hear the bagpipes play and learn a few more Scottish legends.  

Sunday morning we ate a delicious breakfast at the guest house, and then went to church.  The ward we went to was so great- there was a big, friendly primary for the kids and the speakers in Sacrament meeting were really inspiring.  I might have to write an entire post just about the way that believing something will be good makes it more likely to be good.  I feel like that summarizes my experiences here in London so far. 

After church we walked down to the beach.  I sometimes forget that Great Britain is an island, which means you are never too far from the coast.  

It was cool on the beach, and we were all wearing jackets, but Mim begged to take off her tights and boots.  I couldn’t blame her from wanting to feel the sand between her toes, as I had already removed my shoes. 

Eli and Simon had a fantastic time looking at dead crabs and collecting sea shells.  We walked along the beach to find a place for a late lunch but there wasn’t much that was open. Apparently a lot of restaurants close between 2-5pm so we settled for ice cream cones and walked back to the guest house to get our cars.  

We drove to St. Andrew’s which is RICH with history.  It made my head spin.  It is the home of St. Andrew’s University which is the 3rd oldest English speaking university in the world.  It is also credited as the birthplace of golf, and on a more somber note, the site of many executions during the Scottish reformation. 

Our first order of business in St. Andrew’s was to eat, so we did that straight away at Nandos.  It’s a chain that we’ve become familiar with in London and we knew it would satisfy us.  

Then we just started walking and came across the university by accident.  By the time we left Nando’s it was after 6:00 and just about everything was closed so we just walked.  

From the university we walked to the ruins of the castle and then on to the cathedral.  It was all along the coast and of course it was all stunning.  

We walked back up to the castle ruins, and looked around a bit but it was closed for the day.  We then walked along the coast toward the Cathedral ruins.  The Cathedral took 150 years to build, beginning in 1158.  It was the largest church in Scotland, and you can tell from the ruins that it was massive.   In 1559 during the Scottish Reformation, Catholic mass services were banned and the Cathedral was abandoned and fell to ruin.  That was such a sad bit of history, such an impressive structure ignored and neglected.

We loved St. Andrews and wish we could have spent more time there.  

After we left the ruins we walked back to our cars and drove back to Dundee for our last night in Scotland.  

We didn’t make it up to the highlands of Scotland, the home of Loch Ness and Loch Lomond.  I’m disappointed about that, but committed to making another pilgrimage to the north to give it a second chance.  But I did get to see the Scotland of my dreams in the small town of Dunkeld.  We came upon it accidentally, we were looking for something else but as soon as we drove through I begged Richard to pull over so I could walk around a bit.  Miriam and Simon had fallen asleep, but Cameron and my parents came with me.  I couldn’t stop taking pictures, which is why Dunkeld has the honor of its own blog post.  

I’m not really a big fan of editing, I like having a photo that depicts the view I saw, as I saw it.  (Although a photagraph can rarely do justice to the beauty of the sight seen first hand.)  That’s not to say that I don’t think photo editing could be a legitimate form of artwork, I’m just not artistically inclined so I prefer to leave my photos as they are.  But if I did have some photo editing skills, I bet these pictures could be made to look even more glorious.  

Sometimes I daydream about having another life in a place like this. I imagine being a writer, and sitting down by the river Tay for inspiration.  I love rivers; REALLY love them.  I think I’ll add this little town to my favorite places on Earth, alongside Island Park, Gettysburg, and Lake Louise.  

After we left Dunkeld we drove up to Dundee, Scotland or more specifically Broughty Ferry.  We checked in at the Stonelee Guest House and met the kindest hosts.  We had a late dinner at a place called The Glass House Restaurant, where we sighed gratitude for an outdoor playground where the kids could play before and after dinner, and licked our plates clean from sticky toffee pudding.  

There are Holiday Inns and Travelodges in the UK, but they are the minority and most travel accommodations are bed and breakfasts, or “guest houses”- which have such a friendly and homey feel.  I have always loved staying at a bed and breakfast because breakfast is always a really fun opportunity to meet people and eat a home cooked meal.  The Albert Hotel was a bed and breakfast and so Saturday morning we had our second experience with a Scottish breakfast, but we opted out of the black pudding and haggis this time.  

After breakfast Richard drove my parents back to Edinburgh to pick up their rental car, and they took Miriam with them.  So the boys and I walked down to the pier.  North Queensferry is in the Kingdom of Fife, and it’s so beautiful. There were those purple and blue clouds again, contrasting with the dark green landscape.  I had fun taking photos while the boys played on the rocky beach. 

The town of Queens Ferry was established in 1068 by the Queen so that there could be regular ferry crossings across the inlet from Edinburgh to northern Scotland.  Forth Bridge, the red bridge in the pictures below, was built from 1883-1890.  There are books written about the building of the bridge, at its peak it employed 4,000 men and 63 men lost their lives working on the project.  I marvel at engineering feats that seem to come ahead of their time and require such personal sacrifice.  This bridge is now used for the railway, and there is another bridge built more recently that is used for vehicles.  

After Richard and my parents came back, we packed up and headed for Perth.  We ate lunch at a French restaurant that will be the focal point of my culinary fantasies for a long while to come.  My parents had just been telling us about how the food in France is all so delicious.  I wish I could remember the French name of the dish I had, but it had potatoes, lardons, and the most savory cheeses.  Even the kids devoured their meals, and we all smiled with satisfaction at all the clean plates at the end of the meal. Then we had some macarons from the restaurant bakery and if they hadn’t been so expensive I would have tried one of every flavor.  There was hazlenut, lemon, peanut butter, passion fruit and chocolate, salted caramel, basil and lime, vanilla, chocolate, raspberry.  They were as beautiful as they were delicious.  (If you haven’t noticed, food is as serious as any part of our travel experiences.)


After lunch we drove to Scone Palace.  (Pronounced “Scoone” if you want to sound Scottish.)  Scone palace was the coronation site of Kings and Queens of Scotland for hundreds of years.  I couldn’t quite get my head around the significance of the ceremonies that took place at this quiet and serene palace in the Scottish countryside. 

The best way to explain Scone Palace might be to compare it to Downton Abbey, the home of a wealthy aristocratic family.  But it had more historical significance as well, and Queen Victoria had her own room here because she enjoyed visiting so much, which was totally understandable because it’s so scenic and feels remote.  

We toured the palace, which actually is still the home of the Earl of Scone and his wife.  His son is the Viscount of Stormont and he is therefore married to the Viscountess of Stormont, and they have a son as well.  He is not yet married but what pressure! There was a guide in the palace who valiantly tried to explain to us how the aristocracy of Earls, Lords, and Viscounts was organized, and with several comparisons to Downton Abbey as a reference for us sort it out, I think we came away with a vague idea.  It is quite fascinating actually and I think I need to dig up some movies to help me really get a handle on it.  (Or read a book, but don’t movies about Earls and Lords sound so fun?) The guide told us that there is a running joke among these families “Produce an heir, and one to spare.”

The palace was lavishly decorated and really fun to walk through.  There was also a special exhibit about Dido Belle, probably because of the recently produced British movie about her life- which of course now I’m dying to see!  I know I post a lot of links, I do that for your convenience if you are curious, because I reference them to help me get my facts straight.  But if you don’t click on any other link- read about Dido, it’s a really neat story.   

After we toured the palace we took the kids to the playground on the palace grounds.  There were a lot of fun things there.   Richard doesn’t get to go to many parks with us so it was fun for him to watch the kids on the zip line and it was a nice break for me to take pictures while he pushed Simon in the swing.  

It was a really beautiful afternoon by the time we left Scone Palace.  The sun was shining and it just felt like the most pleasant place on Earth. I’ve never seen grass so green.  Richard was so impressed he said he wanted his Heaven to be a place like the grounds of Scone Palace.  

We slept in a bit on Friday morning after our late night at the festival.  Then we packed up and headed out.  Just as a side note- I tried a new method of packing for this trip that I want to remember.  We were staying in three different hotels and so instead of packing a suitcase for each person, I packed a suitcase for each hotel.  That spared Richard from carrying in multiple bags to each place.  I had one bag that had all our toiletries and things we would need each night.  The system worked quite well and if we do another trip where we are changing locations regularly I think I’ll do it again.  

We walked to a little Scottish restaurant called “Auld Jock’s Pie Shoppe” and had a traditional Scottish breakfast.  I didn’t take a picture but I found this one online.  It includes bacon, sausage, a potato scone, haggis, black pudding, toast, beans, tomato and mushrooms.   I LOVED the potato scones but wasn’t so much a fan of haggis or black pudding.  (I dare you to go read what black pudding is.)  But we also had chocolate chip shortbread, croissants and some other shortbread treats.  Shortbread treats are my new favorite dessert, and on holiday it is perfectly acceptable to eat them for breakfast. 

After breakfast we walked back up the Royal Mile toward the castle.  It was sunny and pleasant but windy and cool up on the castle hill.  

There were more fun buskers to see, and my parents (who were walking separately from us) saw a hovering Yoda that sounded really cool.  

The views from the castle were amazing. It occurred to me that if I lived during medieval times, when countries and cultures were always at war, a castle on a hill would feel reasonably safe to me.  You can see people approaching from all around.  

The history at Edinburgh Castle, and all throughout Scotland was so overwhelming to me.  I wished I knew more, or had read more.  It was hard to understand when Scotland had it’s own King/Queen and when it was under English rule.  There were bits and pieces that sounded familiar, like William Wallace or Mary Queen of Scots, but I didn’t know any details or have any kind of broad understanding of historical context.  But I’m motivated to learn more and get some books from the library.  

In the United States, the history of our country that we learn about in school is more or less 300 years.  But when you get to these countries in Europe, they have a “civilized” history of 2000+ years.  When I told Richard that I felt completely lost and confused with Scotland’s past, he said 

“Just wait until you visit Rome.” 

Yikes. 

The Edinburgh Castle is located on a hill that has been occupied since the Bronze Age, with various structures at the site built over the last 900 years.  It served purposes as residences of royalty and also as a military fortress.  It contains the “Royal Honours” of the Scottish crown.  You know that scene in Frozen, on coronation day, where Elsa is crowned, and holds the scepter and orb? Those are symbols of royalty commonly used in European coronations.  The Scottish regalia include a sword, a sceptre and a crown.  Photography wasn’t allowed.  

My parents had already spent a few hours at the castle the day before, and we were just not on our game so we didn’t stay and see everything at the castle.  It was also chilly when the clouds came in, and crowded and like I said, historically overwhelming.  So we left the castle and went to eat lunch.  It would be lovely to have a travel nanny, that could entertain our kids so we could read every plaque and visit every museum, but we just make the best with what we’ve got, and try to pay attention to the kids and their attention spans and energy levels, and appetites.

We ate lunch at a really tasty vegetarian restaurant in downtown Edinburgh, where we could stay out of the forthcoming rain and rest a bit.  Then my dad left to go get train tickets up to our next destination.  My mom found a public records library where she wanted to make some family history inquiries and we took the kids to Calton Hill to see the National Monument and climb the Nelson Monument.  

The National Monument was built in 1823 as a memorial to the Scottish soldiers who died fighting in the Napoleonic wars, but it was never finished due to lack of funds.  

The Nelson Monument is a memorial to a famous Scottish Admiral, Horatio Nelson, who fought in the Napoleonic wars.  He was killed in the Trafalgar naval battle, but was a hero.  I didn’t get a picture of the monument itself, but it was designed to look like a telescope.  We climbed the stairs to the top for some spectacular views, but my photos didn’t turn out well because it was raining.  

We met up with my parents and walked back to the hostel to get our baggage and our car.  They got on the train to North Queensferry and we drove and met up again in a charming little seaside town, at our hotel.  The Albert Hotel. 

When I walked into the hotel to check-in I looked everywhere for a desk or counter.  All I could find was the pub, where there were men sitting at the bar who looked like this was their evening ritual, to just chat it up with their neighbors.  It was so quiet and quaint.  I went into the pub and asked 
“Where do I check in?”
“That’s right here darlin’.” 

The hotel was old, and classic.  It wasn’t fancy but it was full of charm.  Crown molding, high ceilings and chandeliers.  We loved it.  We unloaded our things, went for a little walk down to the pier, and then came back to the hotel to eat dinner in the pub.  (There weren’t really any other options.)  We were all pretty exhausted so we went straight to bed. Well, Richard and I went to bed with the littles,  but apparently Cameron and Eli stayed up watching a movie with Baca and Grandpa.  

  

The night before our trip to Scotland I could hardly sleep.   I was so excited, I had spent quite a bit of time finding our hotel rooms and planning our journey and I couldn’t wait to see and experience the kilts and bagpipes and festivals.  

I want to give a big shout-out of gratitude to Alyssa, Christy and my Instagram friend Carrie for all their recommendations. Nearly everything we saw and ate and experienced was recommended by one of these ladies.  Thank you so much! 

My parents left early Thursday morning to catch their train to Edinburgh.  I’ll go ahead right here and teach you how to pronounce Edinburgh so you can practice whilst reading through.  It’s Eh-din-burrah.  (That’s the best phonetical spelling I can come up with.)

The train travels north more or less as the crow flies so my parents had a much shorter journey.  We left a bit after them and had to drive, and none of the motorways are very direct so it took us a couple hours longer.  It was about an eight hour trip from our house to Edinburgh, and we only stopped once.  

The Tattoo Festival we were attending that evening didn’t start until 9:00pm so I really wanted the kids to take a nap on the drive.  A few drops of melatonin after lunch did the trick and they all slept for at least an hour.  (I didn’t have to give Eli any melatonin, he was sleepy enough on his own.) 

We arrived in Edinburgh around 3:00 and I rolled the windows down because it was sunny and beautiful outside.  We could smell the sea air and it was all Richard and I could do to focus on navigating and not on all the gorgeous buildings.  

We made our way to hostel, parked our car, checked in to our room and then headed to the Royal Mile.  The Royal Mile is the main thoroughfare that starts at the Edinburgh castle and stretches down approximately one Scottish mile toward Holyrood Abbey.   Carrie taught me the word “busker” for a street performer, and I think the buskers were the kids favorite part of the royal mile.   

Since my parents had arrived before us they went into the castle, but about halfway up the Royal Mile toward the castle it started raining hard.  I really didn’t want the kids to be soaked through before the Tattoo Festival even started so we decided to go back to our hostel and dry out before dinner.   

The kids ran around in their underwear in the hostel room while I threw all the clothes in the hostel laundry dryer (I was so excited that they had one!) and we waited until my parents finished at the castle.   The adults got baked “tatties” for dinner, and we took them to a mall food court to eat them out of the rain.  (The kids were thrilled to have KFC for dinner.) 

Then we made our way back up to the Edinburgh castle for the Edinburgh Military Tattoo.  (I already mentioned this on FB, but a “tattoo” isn’t just an ink design on skin; it is also “an entertainment consisting of music, marching, and the performance of displays and exercises by military personnel.” 

The festival is a performance of various military bands and dance groups from all over the world.   I took a few pictures at the beginning but then put my camera away because I wanted to just watch without being distracted by taking photos.  But I found this website with some fantastic photos from the program.  

My favorites were the Tattoo Highland dancers, the Trinidad and Tobago Steel-drum Marching Band, and the Singapore Armed Forces Ceremonial band which included some bright and colorful costumes and dancing.  The whole festival was one of those experiences in my life where I just couldn’t stop smiling.  

We felt especially grateful that we didn’t get rained on.  As a last minute precaution my dad and Richard bought some rain ponchos for us, and we joked that buying them was the best investment ever because of course it wouldn’t rain if we were prepared.  

At the end, all of the performers came out on the stage for a final medley which involved a lot of dancing, including a hilarious rendition of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” and Pharrell Williams’s “Happy”.  When people from literally all over the world are all dancing and clapping along to a pop hit, the world really does seem smaller.  But nothing compared to the finale when everyone in the stadium stood up and held hands while singing the Scottish classic “Auld Lang Syne.”  It was international unity that gives me goosebumps when I recall it.  

There were fireworks at the end and a lone bagpiper played a solo from the castle balustrades.  It was remarkable.  

I think the kids enjoyed it too, despite it getting a little chilly outside.  They do the show at night because it needs to be dark, and there were colorful pattern projections on the castle, which served as a backdrop.  Simon fell asleep at the end and we had to walk back down to the hostel, but it felt magical in the air after the show.  

Now I can cross “Sleep in a Hostel” off my bucket list.  We stayed in a room with five sets of bunkbeds, and it was the six of us and my parents.  It was really inexpensive and we had no complaints.  The room had two bathrooms with showers, and it was simple to say the least, but we didn’t get back to it until after 11:00 at night and left first thing in the morning so it suited us just fine.