“Are ya insured?”

His wife had already blown by us on her way up the stone steps, but the man in the green jacket paused briefly, to grin widely and crack a joke.

“Unfortunately not,” I answered, shaking my head.

“Brave girl then!”

I laughed. He was right - about the insurance thing. The view from Arthur’s Seat was unbelievable, but the steep, winding pathway to the top was a bit of a challenge. And going back down, well, it was more like a catastrophe waiting to happen. One wrong footfall and I was going to end up at the bottom - Jack and Jill style.

“Got to be insurrrred,” he said, rolling his Scottish r’s, with a flourish. Then he picked up the pace and stormed up the mountain to join his wife.

I hated how easy he made the climb look - especially considering all those breathers we took on the way up. Hike, hike, stub toe, stop, breathe. Repeat. I hated it even more because the man had to be at least 75 years old and making the climb with a cane. Not a walking stick, mind you, but a cane. A cane!

The Scots, they are hardy and spry. Must be all that porridge.

Details: Arthur’s Seat is located above Holyrood Castle at the end of Edinburgh’s Royal Mile. Allow a good 90 minutes for the climb up, and an hour to come back down. Or less, I suppose, if you go head first.

Monday, October 22, 2007 | stories