Each August, crowds from around the world descend on Edinburgh for Scotland’s biggest cultural gathering: Edinburgh Festival. But in and around the shows, comedy acts and music performances, the city remains as beguiling as ever. Writer and sketch artist Shikha Shah shares her own 48 hours in Edinburgh in the company of her restless father.
I’m illustrating a map of Scotland in my sketchpad and savoring the shifting emerald landscape when my dad, sat by the window, asks the train’s catering staff to pour him a cup of hot water. He adds his chai/Indian tea premix to it, takes a sip, lets off a deep sigh, and says, “Maja aavi gai!” meaning ‘I’m having a great time.’
We’re halfway through our four-hour rail journey from London’s King’s Cross to Edinburgh Waverley. It is the first time we’ve dared to leave my mum behind at home and embark on a wee father-daughter adventure, about to begin in the historic capital city of Scotland. While this is my fifth time in the UK, it’s my dad’s first visit. Of course, his enthusiasm is at its peak.
It’s late evening by the time we get to our room. My dad, who’d seemed travel-weary a minute ago—we’d made the long journey from Mumbai to London the same day—is now charged up, and spreads the map given to us at check-in on the table for a quick overview of the cityscape. Next, he pulls out a pen and a small piece of paper (which turns out to be a long list of must-see Edinburgh sights) from his backpack. Of course, I’m a chip off the old block, and I’ve also done my homework, listing charming streets, museums and architectural marvels to stimulate my inner artist.
As we circle spots on the map, we notice that most are clustered in the wynds (alleys) of the fishbone-patterned Medieval Old Town, and the Neoclassical New Town with its striking grid pattern and sweeping squares. My dad may be in his early 60s, but his restlessness could match that of a child. Having spent 36 years with him, I have tactfully mastered the coping mechanism. “Although a bit hilly, Edinburgh looks quite compact and walkable,” I say, hinting at my preference for exploring at a relaxed pace on two feet, versus rushing about, in and out of taxis.
The following morning, we wake to sunshine and blue skies. I fill my tote with snacks and nuts—food tops my dad’s priority list—a sketchpad, watercolor kit, and other essentials I’ll need to survive what I know will be a 48-hour sightseeing marathon.
The imposing Scott Monument, also known as the Gothic Rocket, is the first Scottish architectural marvel we see in Edinburgh. A few steps from Edinburgh Waverly station, along Princes Street in the New Town, the tall, intricately carved stone edifice is hard to miss.
For us, it also serves as a landmark; the street opposite leads to our hotel. Locals say Charles Dickens shunned the 1846 structure dedicated to Sir Walter Scott, arguably Scotland’s first novelist, and thought it was overly ornate and looked like “a spire of a Gothic church taken off and stuck in the ground”.
Although Dickens admired Scott’s work and was influenced by it, he believed a writer’s work should endure through its impact on readers, not in public buildings or memorials. However, my dad and I spare a minute to admire its details every time we walk past it. While it may appear blackish and old, courtesy of the local Binny sandstone used in its construction, that’s also what adds to its Gothic personality.
Part of a quintet of Georgian townhouses from the 1700s, our suite at Intercontinental Edinburgh The George overlooks the posh thoroughfare of George Street, once frequented by the country’s artistic and intellectual minds who gathered at its gentlemen’s clubs, libraries, and salons to seek inspiration and exchange ideas.
Clearly possessing influencer traits, my dad films the ‘room tour’ with free-flowing commentary revealing how he loves the inviting bath attached to the cozy living area and quintessential Scottish landscapes on the walls. Come evenings, it turns into a spa room for two; dad insists we sit on the opposite edges of the tub, and unwind over conversation, a cup of tea and a foot soak.
My father is one of those people who wakes early when traveling—purely to sample almost everything at the breakfast buffet. For a taste of Scottish history, tradition and local produce, we put together a full Scottish breakfast from the hearty breakfast buffet.
Originating in the Victorian era and evolving through the years, the meal is rich, elaborate and filling. It typically features an array of sausages—including the distinctive Lorne sausage—alongside eggs, breads like tattie scones or toast, baked beans, porridge, and a selection of grilled or pan-fried vegetables.
We love it all except for haggis (pudding made from sheep’s stomach minced with onions, oatmeal and spices). We both agree it’s quite gamey and an acquired taste. Perhaps we need to give it another try.
A good starting point for our wander in the steep, pedestrian-friendly Old Town is Edinburgh Castle, the crowning jewel of the ancient quarter’s Royal Mile. “History and knowledge should be either free or affordable”, comments my dad though, expressing his disappointment with the £24 per adult entrance fee.
In any case, I don’t mind keeping away from large sightseeing groups, and I appreciate the exteriors of the 11th-century royal residence, once a military fortress and a wartime prison, from the castle grounds instead. We admire the city panorama from the forecourt; it’s hard to believe we’re standing on the solidified mouth of a volcano that erupted almost 350 million years ago—Edinburgh sits on two volcanic features, Arthur’s Seat and Castle Rock.
There’s a reason Edinburgh has been a fertile ground for ‘Tartan Noir’, a reference to the genre of gritty, complex crime fiction set in Scotland. The characterful city has no dearth of nooks and crannies quietly concealing secrets, mysteries and gripping stories of its layered past.
We stumble upon Lady Stair’s Close, an alleyway named after the attached townhouse’s former resident Elizabeth Dundas, which opens into an atmospheric courtyard and The Writer’s Museum.
Inside the latter, we browse through travel treasures and personal belongings of some of Scotland’s beloved writers and poets Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott and Robert Louis Stevenson. Here, I see my dad pore over Scott’s inkstand and pipes while I’m intrigued by the old-school printing press. Turns out the museum is a delightful stop for anyone; not just wordsmiths and bibliophiles.
Whenever I stumble upon a religious building, I have the urge to head straight in. Not just for its cultural significance or centuries-old history and architecture but for the tranquillity of the sacred space.
Within the walls of the 900-year-old, continuously working St Giles, we admire the interiors of ribbed vault ceilings and vibrant figurative stained-glass windows. The exquisite Thistle Chapel, with its intricate wood panelling carved with angels playing bagpipes is a showstopper. Luckily, our timing is great; it’s the scheduled noon service and a local musician is playing the cathedral’s impressive Reiger Organ. We sit in silence on one of the wooden benches and tune in.
A graceful, cobblestoned curve bursting with color, Victoria Street stands out with something of a whimsical aura. Turns out, it inspired Diagon Alley in Potter universe.
Walking down Edinburgh’s most photographed street, we pass an eclectic mix of boutiques, galleries, craft stores, whiskey tasting bars and shops selling bizarre Harry Pottery souvenirs like spellbooks, whimsical chess pieces, glass vials filled with “magic potion”, collectible wizard cards, tiny and oversized brooms made out of unusual materials like feathers and quirky talking hats, but shopping is the last thing on our minds.
Drawn by the warm, sweet and comforting fragrance of cinnamon, we enter Hula Café, a small healthy eatery with casual, cozy Hawaiian-inspired décor and island vibes (the venue is plastic-free too) at the end of Victoria Street and the beginning of Grassmarket, another of the city’s beloved streets. We order a cup of coffee to share and linger to people-watch and soak up the sun.
Witnessing a kilt-sporting bagpiper serenading a throng of vacationers on an antiquated street is one of the most common spectacles in Edinburgh. It’s also the most iconic. “What’s the harm in playing a typical tourist every once in a while” says my dad as we merge into the crowd on the lower end of the Royal Mile to immerse in the musical slice of Scottish pride and ancestry.
A few steps away is the Tron Kirk Market, a church hall repurposed into an art and crafts marketplace with stalls of over 20 Scottish designers and artists showcasing handmade jewelry, watercolor artwork, scarves, ceramics and more. I’m particularly drawn to Edinburgh paintings and prints by artist Ronnie Buchan and edible products by Hood’s Honey, a homegrown brand by a Scottish beekeeper.
First rule of thumb: Never skip a good museum. Rule of thumb two: Especially when it’s free to enter.
Inside the stark yellow Huntly House, the Museum of Edinburgh provides a crash course on the history of the city with its vast collection of Scottish pottery, silver, glassware, costumes, stories and more.
However, what holds our attention for long are the models of the Edinburgh’s Old and New Towns which reveal the evolution of the streets we’ve been wandering up and down all day.
Most active folks visit the 650-acre Holyrood Park determined to ascend the 823-feet-high (251-meter) Arthur’s Seat, an ancient extinct volcano and most prominent of Edinburgh’s hills.
Naturally, the views from the top are ravishing. This time around, we don’t give into the desire to maximise. Instead, we choose to give our feet some rest by pausing on a patch of greenery, opening a bottle of Irn-Bru, the unofficial national drink of Scotland, and simply reveling in the vastness of the park and surrounding dramatic hills and crags.
“Have we come all the way to Edinburgh to nap in a park?” asks my dad. He winks. And I know he’s as content as I am, enjoying the moment, embracing the joy of missing out.
****
Adventure.com strives to be a low-emissions travel publication. We are powered by, but editorially independent of, Intrepid Travel, the world’s largest travel B Corp, who help ensure Adventure.com maintains high standards of sustainability in our work and activities. You can visit our sustainability page or read our Contributor Impact Guidelines for more information.
Shikha Shah is a travel journalist and sketch artist who writes about food, culture, art, architecture and slow, mindful travel, with bylines in BBC Travel, Condé Nast Traveller, Vogue, Travel + Leisure and more. She takes inspiration from her travels to create vivid paintings using pen and watercolor and has illustrated her way through India, Bhutan, Italy, Spain, Switzerland, UK, Georgia, Vietnam, Cambodia, Indonesia, Seychelles, Egypt and many other places.
