I went to the FREE Children’s Museum when I woke up and I had a blast! It’s amazing how many creepy dolls children have played with. Any doll with fangs ain’t getting in my playpen. Here are some of the choice toys:
Puss in Boots aka Fangs in Puss in Boots
Melty, balding, waxy baby
Bone in a dress
The gayest game on earth
After that I headed to the free People’s Museum which was so bad it was good. Lots of plastic, life-sized people holding signs for women’s votes and the like. Pretty terrible. I rounded out my free museum tour at the Museum of Edinburgh which was also pretty grim (I discovered later on that it’s the paying museums that have hoarded all the good stuff).
For lunch I headed to the Grassmarket and sat in an outside Biergarten called The Beehive eating mediocre food and drinking yummy “soothes what ails ya” shandies. I had about an hour to kill before heading to my first fringe festival show. “Potted Potter” is all 7 of the Harry Potter books in 60 minutes, and I thought it could be a nice way to celebrate the books with fellow nerds. Unfortunately I didn’t account for the terrible jokes, horrible acting, and general lack of any real Harry Potter references. Even kids were groaning at jokes.
I rushed out and on to a free comedy show starring some chubby Irishman, hoping it would cleanse the pallette. Le groan. I snuck out after 10 minutes motioning to my empty pint glass.
And then, miracle of miracles, I stumbled upon what would be the highlight of my day. An all brass oompah band was playing at an outdoor biergarten down the road, and every single musician was muscly and young and handsome. I sat next to 7 hugely fat women at the beginning of a hen night (bachelorette party) and their feistiness riled up the band. We got the fellas dancing on tables, sliding trombones down our shirts, and more general tomfoolery.
toot!
I was heartbroken–HEARTBROKEN–when I had to sneak out to attend the Edinburgh Tattoo–a giant massing of military bands from around the world strutting their stuff at Edinburgh Castle. It’s impossible to get tickets (I had bought the last ticket to tonight’s performance a month earlier), so I knew I couldn’t miss it. The show was generally pretty good (I’m pretty sure I was the only person in attendence under 73), but I felt a little gipped when I realized I had tickets to the early show. That means the sun was still out and I didn’t get to see the castle lit up all beautifully in the background. Also, the later show finished with fireworks–FIREWORKS!!
Edinburgh Tattoo Finale
The audience. Average age: 97
After the Tattoo was over I raced back to see if the Oompah band was taking the stage again, but they were replaced by a DJ playing techno music. Buzzkill. I moped back to the Royal Mile, closely followed by a French butcher who wanted to buy me a drink. “Listen Francoise…” “My name’s Mohammed.” “Perfect.” I ducked into the first restaurant I saw. The restaurant? The Filling Station. An American-themed Route 66 type place. Screw it, I was hungry, I was lonely, and the cheesy American decor amused me. I had haggis balls and spaghetti. My waitress, sensing my loneliness, stopped by my table no less than 30 times to check on me. Maybe the spaghetti sauce all over my shirt alarmed her.
Later that night I layed in bed listening to the firework finale at the second Edinburgh Tattoo performance and softly cursed into my pillow.
