Castles suck!

Ok, they don't really suck its just that we're on castle overload right about now..seen 3 or so in the last day and a half..they're everywhere. Of note were Edinburgh and Sterling castles. Edinbugh Castle is really dominating on the city skyline (try to post pics later) and Sterling is the site of William Wallace's (a.k.a braveheart) famous victory over the English so these were neat to see. here are some pics:

Edinburgh Castle



Sterling Castle


It's friken cold though..and by cold I mean a damp and windy 50 degrees. Helen and I didn't really prepare for this sort of weather, we did bring a thermal layer and wind breaker but they barely keep the cold out..and then of course is the laundry issue..it's been cold for about 7 days straight now and with only one warm outfit we are starting to stink a bit...well, I am at least, Helen seems to manage not to rot as bad as me..she claims it's all the dairy I eat. anyway.

Ginger and Steve have joined us and we've secured a guest house near old town Edinburgh. Last night we went to a neighborhood pub and had some pints with the locals..it was a bizarre night, here's the scene:

Local scottish pub filled with scrappy middle aged scotsmen dressed in drag mixed with strange older women wearing wigs and Grease outfits (ala Pink Ladies) who looked like the men in drag and selling raffle tickets (apparently all this for a charity fund raising event). As we enter the bar, the locals turned and leared towards like the zombies in a George Romero film.. it was only later that we discovered that unlike Romero's zombies, they were not after our brains.. but our pearly whites.

Finding a cozy corner with our backs to the wall and warm carpet under our feet we decided to stay for some pints. A couple of pints into the evening and someone puts on the Grease soundtrack. After listening to it play through about 3 times back to back they brought out the karaoke machine. This is a sight in itself..drunk Scottish drag queens belting out Sinatra in thick, slurred Scottish accents.

So as the sky grew progressively darker in its shades of grey we slid deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. Fearing the worst we moved on to shots of slippery nipples, kilt lifters and sambuca, the only 3 shots the barmaid knew how to make (2 technically since you don't actually 'make' a sambuca shot). As the alcohol seeped into our blood and into our brains we slowly began to make out individual words and then slowly complete sentences from the locals. We had learned Scottish! So we decided to engage in some light conversation. It was at this point, face to face with the drunk Scottish drag queens, that we reallized it was our pearly whites that had caught their eye when we first entered. That 'myth' about poor British dental hygine is apparently true. Half of these poor souls had several teeth missing, crooked snaggly teeth, bad dentures, brownish plaque or some combination thereof. All very nice people, but it was all we could do to avoid staring at their gaping maws while we talked over 'Blair's resignation', 'Scotish seperatism', 'how good Mike looks in drag' and 'whether or not Ginger is interested in marrying one of Old Jack's seven sons'.

The raffle comes and we end up winning several bottls of wine (just what we need). We pick at the scraps of food at the buffet and decide we've had enough...it's time for bed.

Anyway, that was last night..I think we're in for a slighly quieter night tonight with falafels, tea and BBC2.

here's the proof:

Steve and 'Honey'

a close up up shot..(sorry)

Ginger with Old Jack

Ryan and 'Penny'

way too happy for winning some cheap wine