Today was a day of happenstance and serendipity in the form of a visit to Roslyn Chapel. Roslyn's been on my bucket list for years, ever since THE DAVINCI CODE. In three previous trips to Edinburgh, I haveb't made it to the Chapel, so I was beside myself with excitment. We arrived in time for noon prayers, Roslyn being an active Episcopal Church. So there I was, saying the Lord's Prayers in Roslyn Chapel, feeling more than a little verklempt. I was able to light a candle as well, which made me very happy, and we also timed it perfectly to hear a twenty minute lecture on some of the fascination of the chapel. It. Was. Awesome.
Then the long, beautiful haul up to the Highlands. We had all sorts of weather, stopped at Blair Castle (many of you remember I based Memphis Highsmythe's ancestral home, which features prominently in WHERE ALL THE DEAD LIE, on an amalgamation of Blair Castle, and Dunrobin, which I've never actually seen, but I'm visiting tomorrow!) and instead of the massive chickens -- I'm talking come up to your knee chickens -- there was a mated pair of peacocks stalking the car park. Just wandering along, doing their peacocky thing.
Now we're at our very favorite Highlands hotel, Lochardil House, managed by our very fine friend (also distantly related) Robert McBean, where we've been warmly greeted, fed and watered, and are now going down for the night. I'm developing a taste for a finger of Laphroaig just before bed. This is one habit I can definitely get behind.
Slàinte, and sweet dreams!