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Holyrood Palace, Abbey and Edinburgh After leaving the Castle, Chad headed for the Internet Café, but Rochelle and I hopped back on Gay Freddie and rode to the bottom of the Royal Mile to Holyrood Abbey and Palace.

The former is a ruined shell (as you'll see) but the latter is a "working palace," home to Queen Elizabeth II during her annual one-week stay in Edinburgh. One isn't supposed to take pictures inside the Royal Apartments, which are very fine indeed, if a little stuffy. This Palace was originally a guest house for royalty visiting the monks in the Abbey, but was enlarged by Royal Command when the windiness of the Castle became too inconvenient and peace settled down. My ancestor Mary Queen of Scots has a bedroom here, but she gave birth in a closet off the main bedroom in the Castle.

The Palace inner courtyard

The Superintendent's Cottage

Among the "royal relics" including jewelry worn by servants and memorabilia vaguely attributed to royalty, Mary's crucifix and beads, obviously much fingered during her fatal stay in The Tower of London, have a special presence. Out in the back garden we found an exquisite little building (well, maybe little only by comparison to the Palace): the Superintendents cottage. We'd rather live here.

Before there was a Palace, there was an Abbey, and its stately bones remain. The quality of the gothic entry and the interior columns suggest how magnificent this building must have been when whole. In the picture at right you can see how the Palace swelled up and shadowed the Abbey -- a commentary of what the Royals think of themselves? -- and so it was abandoned and allowed to decay.

Little details of the Old City caught and delighted my eye. High atop a column in Parliament Square there's a Unicorn rampant holding a yellow flag -- called the Mercat Column. I had to stop myself from taking pictures of pleasing architectural details.

Protestant Reformer John Knox's house

One of the oldest (and prettiest) houses along the Royal Mile belonged to John Knox. WE especially appreciated the flower boxes and the protruberant top floor room. The rest of our stay in Edinburgh was pleasant but unexciting -- a little more riding on Gay Freddie, and then the National Gallery -- it's quite amazing how many people will come to enjoy good art if there's free admission. In this, the British have a great idea. We were happy to pay £6 to see a collection of Rembrants, and so were lots of other folks.

Is this Rembrandt's second "wife" Henrickja?

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