Eh·Duhn·Bruh Burth·Day

Before moving to Paris, I spent almost every birthday in Paris. It was a gift to myself to become a year older in my favorite city in the world. On my 40th birthday, we invited friends from all over the world to attend a party held in a Paris restaurant. Paris was always my place to be when the fateful day came around.

Then when Paris became every day, my habit changed. Now, every year, I try to go somewhere else so that the year of aging passes more quietly with less fanfare, but with the discovery of something new and different. This year, I headed north to Edinburgh, Scotland, to meet up with an old friend from Germany (who I met in Mikonos in 1979!), a city neither one of us had ever visited.

Everyone who has ever been to Edinburgh gives it a thumbs up as a great place to visit in spite of the inclement weather…one reason it hadn’t been on my radar. As a Southern girl, I prefer the warmth, but there are too many fascinating spots on the planet to let a little bit of cold and rain stop me. Scotland piqued my interest as a result of having watched every episode of Outlander at least three times. I fell in love with heartthrob Jamie Fraser, learned a bit of Scottish history and culture and learned to pronounce the Scottish city’s name correctly—”eh·duhn·bruh.” I couldn’t wait to discover more.

EasyJet makes it easy and inexpensive to fly from Paris. I booked a traditional Scottish hotel in historic New Town—The Royal Scots Club—founded in 1919 as a tribute to those who fell in The Great War, and situated in one of Edinburgh’s finest Georgian streets. We wanted to immerse ourselves in the culture in as many ways as possible.

Then I began the process to plan our three days by booking tours and restaurants. With such a short time to get to know the city, that meant packing it in and working around one full day devoted to a tour of the Highlands, Outlander style. We set aside time to visit the Edinburgh Castle with a guided tour and a live guide and visit the National Museum of Scotland.

Dining out is a favorite pastime and didn’t want to miss a thing. I booked a lot of the well-known touristed spots, because let’s face it, we’re tourists:

• Makars Mash Bar Edinburgh
• The Devil’s Advocate Bar & Kitchen
• The Witchery
• The World’s End

We were ready. My friend flew from Frankfort and me from Paris, CDG. It was a short flight and uneventful. I loved having three seats to myself and not sure why the plane wasn’t more full. It was the first time I’d heard this announcement on a plane: “There is someone on the plane who has very serious allergies to nuts. Please do not open anything with nuts or eat nuts while on this flight.” I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then it became more and interesting during the trip.

The taxi stand at the Edinburgh airport is far from the building, something I’ve never understood—why they force those who need the ride to walk further than those wanting the tram or public transportation…and I see it happen often.

Don’t forget they drive on the left in the U.K.—it took a bit of getting used to. Thirty minutes down city streets, not even highways, we landed at the Royal Scots Club, a very unassuming Georgian row house across from a park that could have been anybody’s house, not necessarily a hotel.

The hotel was small, cozy and well appointed. All very traditional, and thankfully not overwhelmed by tartan plaids…just soft colors. The window overlooked the park, so no one could see in. The towels were big and thick hanging on a towel warmer (that I managed to make too hot) and it had a big, big bathtub with a hand-held and a rainhead shower. Our room has a brass plaque on it, commemorating it to the memory of Lt Col Richard Charles Dundas who was killed on the first day of the Battle of Loos, along with most of his battalion.

I screeched when I saw the tub…as in my new Paris apartment, the two showers that are there are minuscule and torturous in which to shower. I curse them daily and dream of being in my big oval tub in Nice. This was already a perfect birthday gift. Once getting in, however, I discovered that the faucets were reversed (cold on the left, hot on the right) and the way it functioned was as illogical as old-fashioned British plumbing (how they love having two faucets, one for hot and one for cold). I cracked up!

Our first evening, I had not reserved, but had it in my mind to go to Dishoom on Saint Andrew’s Square, an Indian restaurant part of a chain that is “a brand experience crafted with love, care and the utmost authenticity.” Since its launch in 2010, Dishoom has grown to five locations in London and one in Edinburgh. I’d been to one in London and was so impressed by its system to move a lot of people in and out of its doors while serving up great food that I couldn’t wait to try the one in Edinburgh. Dishoom has twice won the Yelp! award for Best Restaurant in the UK.

We waited in line to enter for 25 minutes outdoors, then were ushered into the cozy (but noisy) bar where we had a cocktail and waited for our table. That was another 25 minutes, but we didn’t care. The food was flavorful, spicy, fresh and delicious. Top of my list were the Blackened Butterflied Prawns—chargrilled prawns in fresh green marinade inspired by the raucous fish market of South Bombay.

The service was sweet and perfect. It was everything I had remembered and imagined, then to top it off, the waiter came over with a revised copy of our bill, reduced by about 10% as a birthday gift (not sure how he knew!).

Sunday morning was quiet and sunny—shockingly. We were out of the hotel in time to enter the National Galleries of Scotland when its doors opened to the public, free to enter with no security to enter. It’s open daily 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.! Labyrinth-like and on several levels, the galleries are a cornucopia of a remarkable collection of works featuring masterpieces from renowned artists like Titian, Rembrandt, and Constable, and delving into Scotland’s rich history with pieces by Raeburn and Traquair. I fell in love in the room of Impressionists in which I felt like I had come “home,” as well as with a painting by Sir Henry Raeburn titled The Skating Minister…among at least a dozen others. It was a treat to be in the museum at opening when we were the only people in the vast rooms among all the beautiful paintings.

That was the perfect start of the day before taking in lunch as Makars Mash Bar. There are two locations, one just down the street from the other. One of them takes reservations; the other does not. It wasn’t all that obvious, but we ended up in the right place at the right time. Funny that the restaurant was filled with both local Scots and Asians—mostly Chinese and Korean. It turns out that certain guide books do a good job of getting them there.

“Mash” means mashed potatoes, and these come in every sort of variety, topped by some sort of meat such as Slow Cooked Lamb Shank with an infused tomato, rosemary & red wine sauce, or Bonnie Prince Charlie Spatchcock Chicken in a whisky, peppercorn & mustard sauce. You get to choose your mash from 10 different flavors. We chose Mature Scottish Cheddar Cheese, Smoked Bacon & Spring Onion and Scottish Black Pudding. It was all delicious.

The Maître D’ was a cute young guy, who looked like Leonardo DiCaprio, asked everyone as he seated them if they had allergies. In fact, at every restaurant, the first question was this. We couldn’t help but laugh, since this seemed to become a theme from the moment I got on the plane and all through the trip. As it turns out, food businesses such as restaurants, cafés, and takeaways must, by law, tell customers if any of the main 14 food allergen ingredients are in the food they serve. The 14 allergens range from widely known ingredients such as peanuts and milk. I wondered if this resulted from some important court case, but was never able to find anything about that. Fortunately, neither my friend nor I do!

After lunch we met up with a tour group to visit the Edinburgh Castle. The group met outside in front of the Caffè Nero on the Royal Mile beside the statue of Adam Smith. The Royal Mile is not the name of the street, but is a succession of streets forming the main thoroughfare of the Old Town. It runs between two significant locations in the royal history of Scotland: Edinburgh Castle and the Palace of Holyroodhouse.

A tall young blonde woman named Georgia held up a green and white umbrella for us to follow her up the Royal Mile and into the castle grounds. She was very knowledgeable and led an excellent tour with a good command of the history…and there’s plenty there to talk about. The views from the castle are incredible—well worth the climb—and the tour was worth the price of admission.

The Witchery is at the entry to the castle grounds. Georgia mentioned it, without knowing we had reservations there for tonight. It claims to be Scotland’s most famous restaurant and reservations are tough to get. Ours are for 10 p.m., but c’est la vie…a girl has to do what a girl has to do to get what she wants. Situated in a collection of historic buildings one can dine in an enchanting 16th-century oak-paneled and candlelit dining room or immerse oneself in the elegant charms of The Secret Garden Dining Room. The restaurant is so independent, that it won’t serve children under the age of 10 or parties larger than six.

Bagpipe-players are all over the city, playing at strategic points in order to raise a few pence. The sound is hypnotic. The Royal Mile is lined with shops selling tartan plaid everything, whiskey and other Scottish souvenirs. There are street performers and odd characters all over the Mile. We lucked out on Sunday with a day without rain, and not terribly cold. The streets were busy with Americans (I heard more American English than almost anything else) and lots of Asians. The Scottish are obvious because they are the only ones dressed lightly—even bare armed or legged—since this doesn’t yet constitute winter and for them, 45°F isn’t very cold! But, it is for me!

Next week, you’ll get the rest of the story. For now, we’re off to the Highlands!

A la prochaine…