Today is our last full day in Edinburgh. My only regret is that we didn’t have more time to explore beyond High Street, also known as the Royal Mile. If I ever return, I’d love to branch out further. But I don’t feel bad about our choices. We made the most of the time we had. I hope there’s a next time in Edinburgh, and when and if that time ever comes, I will venture further.
Edinburgh Castle and the Royal Mile
My sore throat has started to linger. I drink black coffee and will myself to forget about it. We have FlexiPasses to Edinburgh Castle, so we can come and go during visiting hours. And as everyone knows, you need to fuel up before you go touring a castle.
The Royal Mile Tavern is a handsome building painted deep green with windows etched in gold lettering. Supposedly, Mary Queen of Scots once dined here, but then again, a lot of places claim that Mary Queen of Scots visited, dined, or slept there.
I continue my tour of Cullen Skink, but this version, while still really tasty, leans too heavily into a smoked bacon flavor for my taste. I’m one of the rare people in the world who has never liked bacon, even before I was pescatarian. Kenny opts for the Pork & Herb Scotch Egg, served with garlic mayo and a Magner’s cider.
We split an order of onion rings because onion rings are one of my favorite fried food indulgences. All in all, I’d happily eat at The Royal Mile Tavern again. Of all the Edinburgh restaurants we tried, Tolbooth Tavern was my favorite, but they each have their charm.
Fueled and ready to walk it off, we finally make our way to Edinburgh Castle, the fortress that has loomed over us since our arrival.
Our pre-booked FlexiPasses let us breeze in, and soon we’re walking beneath the portcullis bearing the Latin inscription Nemo Me Impune Lacessit—“No one attacks me with impunity.” I immediately think of Edgar Allan Poe’s, The Cask of Amontillado–the phrase that is the vengeful Montresor’s family motto. I had no idea it was also Scotland’s national motto.
This is one of the many reasons I love travel—and one of the many reasons why I love reading.
Crossing the old moat, we spot the darkened stones that once held water as an extra defense. The path climbs steadily as we collect our audio guides and begin our self-paced tour. We’re reminded that Edinburgh Castle sits atop a dormant volcano.
The builders didn’t remove the natural rock; they worked with it, using it to reinforce their walls. It’s one of the most unique castle constructions I’ve ever seen—green grass fading into raw stone, and atop that, the orderly stone work of human hands crafted centuries ago.
At the top, we’re rewarded with clear views of the city. I can even see the whimsical brass ribbon curl of the W Hotel from here. Though there are many buildings to explore, we skip the Crown Jewels room, deterred by both the line and a warning from one of our Edinburgh cab drivers that the best treasures were taken long ago to London.
Instead, we enter the Scottish National War Memorial, established in 1927. Photography is forbidden to preserve the solemnity, but that doesn’t stop a few rule-breakers who are either oblivious or blatantly disrespectful—an attendant rushes over to put a stop to what I’m sure is, sadly, a common occurrence.
We move away, quietly tuning out the distraction to focus on reading the inscriptions. The audio guide whispers in my ear that the statue above the door to the entrance is designed as a Phoenix with the renewing flames engulfing, but also giving rise to the memory of a lost soldier.
I loathe war, the lives lost, the pain and agony of it all. I didn’t know any of these men or their families, but I am moved by their sacrifice.
We cross to the old banquet hall, now a museum of swords, armor, and weaponry. The displays are almost artistic—swords fanned out like peacock tails against crimson walls. It feels strange to see tools of death presented so beautifully.
Some swords are massive; I can’t imagine how anyone wielded them. But when your survival depends on it, and there’s no Netflix to distract you, I suppose you find the time to master a blade.
From weapons to worse, we descend into the castle dungeons. Hammocks hang from reconstructed rafters, and our audio guide whispers tales of despair, escape attempts, and the intricate crafts prisoners created to trade or pass time. A jewelry box’s fine inlay and a delicate model ship stand out to me.
These weren’t idle hobbies; they were ways to mentally survive.
Back in the fresh open air, we leave behind the castle walls. With time to spare before our dinner reservation at Wedgwood, we detour to Victoria Street, said to be the inspiration for Diagon Alley in The Harry Potter series.
The street curves behind the Royal Mile in a cascade of colorful shopfronts. We find a quiet upper alley that overlooks the street and observe the bustle from above. It’s picturesque, but neither of us feels like joining the crowd.
We wander and window shop along the Royal Mile until our feet finally give out in front of Canongate Kirk, a 17th-century Presbyterian church. We collapse onto a bench beneath blooming pink cherry blossoms.
Feeling revived, we circle around to the church’s peaceful graveyard where famous Scots like Adam Smith are buried. By the time we finish, we’re nearly late for dinner and hustle our weary feet toward Wedgwood.
We’re seated at a cozy corner table in this modern fine dining spot. During our trip research, we discovered that Edinburgh is full of restaurants with tasting menus, but my pescatarian diet rules out a bunch of them.
Wedgwood, however, stood out. Ever since our unforgettable meal at Sala dei Grappoli in Tuscany, we’ve been on the hunt for another tasting menu to rival it. I don’t think anything ever truly will, but Wedgwood comes close.
Kenny usually eats meat, but even he found the “Wee Vegetarian Menu” more appealing, so we both committed to it. We’re not fans of the default wine pairings—too many whites and rosés—but the staff quickly adjusted, creating a custom flight of reds for us, save for the refreshing starting glass of champagne.
The courses begin:
- Scorched Wild Leeks, Potato, Barley, Crème Fraîche, with Smoked Paprika Crumb. Artful and surprisingly flavorful.
- Roasted Cauliflower, Korma, Pineapple, Caper, with Peanut & Pistachio Dust. Light, bright, and texturally perfect.
- Golden Beetroot, Beetroot Gazpacho, Labneh, Crispy Mushroom, with Balsamic Woodruff. Labneh, I learn, is a creamy cheese that pairs beautifully with the earthy beets.
- Wild Garlic Potato Dumplings, Red Pepper, Couscous, Nettle Cheese, and Jack by the Hedge. Hearty and delicious, especially with the Romanian red wine it’s paired with. We’ve never had Romanian wine before, but we’ll be looking for more.
The restaurant is now packed, and there’s a lull in service. Our server apologizes and tops off our glasses of Romanian red. No complaints here. Kenny is fascinated watching the kitchen staff in action, while I enjoy observing the dining room and its eclectic clientele.
The final savory dish arrives: Salt Baked Celeriac, Tomato Cassoulet, Red Onion Courgette, with Basil, Coriander, and Almonds—fresh and satisfying.
Then, “pre-dessert”: a palate-cleansing sorbet flanked by two pink meringue kisses. Light and fruity. Dessert proper is a Gorse Flower and Sage Brownie with Coffee Caramel Ice Cream. We end with coffee and shortbread. All those little bites add up; we leave feeling full and very happy.
Wedgwood gets five stars from us.
Our final walk down the Royal Mile toward the hotel is peaceful. Rather than dwell on what’s behind us, we look ahead. Tomorrow, we rent a car and begin the next leg of our journey: a driving tour that begins in St Andrews on the East Coast and then on to the Highlands.
