WILD IN SCOTLAND

Scotland is a land of warriors and poets, kings and philosophers, castles and mountains. It’s a place where the wild terrain nips at the heels of the cosmopolitan cities, and the desire for independence ebbs and flows like the tide, but never dies away completely. My family’s roots can be traced back to that initial fight to be free from England; our clan supported Robert the Bruce in reclaiming the Scottish throne. It had long been on my bucket list, so in November 2019, my husband and I set off to explore Edinburgh and beyond.

Airports can often be a monotonous no man’s land, devoid of any real hint of where you’ve landed unless you look closely enough at the souvenir offerings in the duty-free shops. Heading outside in search of a taxi, we were met with a mist-filled gale and an unapologetically Scottish “Haste Ye Back” emblazoned on an information sign. Alex and I strained to hear the cab driver’s lilting accent behind the glass barrier, while my first glimpses of Scotland whizzed by in a blur of green. Approaching the city from the West, one can truly appreciate the dramatic elevation of Castle Rock, the result of prehistoric volcanic activity and the perfect place for a medieval fortress. Edinburgh is divided into two parts: Old Town and New Town, and the “New” dates back to the eighteenth century, if that gives you an idea of the age of the original settlement.

We had chosen to stay in the ancient heart of Edinburgh, in a building that served as a mint in the 1600s just off the main drag, dubbed The Royal Mile because it runs between Edinburgh Castle and Holyrood Palace. As soon as we stepped onto the sidewalk, the echo of bagpipes greeted us, which inexplicably made me tear up that day and the first time I heard them every day on that trip. Funnily enough, I’m averse to anything too touristy in other countries—I’d cringe at a mime in Paris—but somehow I believe those bagpipers would be playing regardless of any travelers around.

There are taxis and Ubers and public transportation, of course, but Edinburgh is inherently walkable and it’s the best way to take everything in. As you meander through Old Town, part of the fun is ducking down one of the many closes, where you might find a shortcut, a dead end, or a piece of history—the city is steeped in it.

To absorb as much as we could, we embarked on a nighttime tour that took us underground into the vaults, which have held the city’s poorest inhabitants, illegal bootlegging operations, and cadavers stashed away by grave robbers, until they could sell them to medical schools that turned a blind eye in the name of scientific progress. Another blustery day, we spent hours wandering around Edinburgh Castle, a cluster of buildings on the hill, each belonging to a different century and chapter of Scotland’s story. Even without seeking it out though, just turning a corner or striking up a conversation with a shopkeeper, you’ll encounter the past. The locals poke fun at this, with one wall plaque cheekily declaring, “On this site September 5, 1782, nothing happened.”

Before we head into the countryside, a note on Edinburgh’s restaurant scene: It’s insanely good. Given the reputation of English food, I’d presumed there wouldn’t be much to speak of North of the border, either, and I dragged my feet on making reservations. Thankfully, I did so in time to have several of the best dining experiences of my life, period. (Keep scrolling for the full list and details below.)

Slightly nervous about driving on the opposite side of the road and navigating the roundabouts, we hit the road—charmingly still called King’s Road. Alex only got honked at twice, which felt like an overall success. Our final destination was Craigievar Castle, a super-Instagrammable pink turreted pile that was built by the Forbes family on the Semple clan’s lands after the two became intertwined by marriage, but we made time en route to see the coastal fortress Dunnottar Castle, where William Wallace and Mary, Queen of Scots both spent time. Walking down to the beach, I felt invigorated by the cold air tinged with sea spray. As much as I enjoyed Scotland’s capital, I was beginning to think I loved its wild landscape even more.

Visiting my ancestral lands clinched it. Yes, the fairy tale castle was perfectly picturesque, but the real treasures were the trails behind it. It started off ordinarily enough, with a narrow path so mucky we briefly entertained the idea of abandoning our hike, but we persevered and were soon happy we had. The deeper we went into the forest, the more beautiful it became. I kept looking around in awe, convinced it wouldn’t get any better and trying to drink it all in; a hundred steps later I was even more enthralled. We saw flowers and mushrooms we had only ever seen in storybooks. As we came upon a creek, a stag bounded across our path. We were in the land of myths and legends.

Stopping at the only restaurant of the first town we encountered, we tucked into comfort food in front of the fire and weighed our options for that night. Despite the concerned clucking of the proprietors, we drove back to Edinburgh through snow-covered mountains under a full moon. More than once the car slowed to a crawl, not because of any dangerous conditions, but simply to roll the windows down and stare. I wish we’d been going as unhurriedly when I caught it : a flash of antlers, majestically still in a sea of white as we passed. Tradition has it that the elusive White Hart is spotted as rarely as once a century. Had I been so fortunate, or was it just the reflection of the snow?

We wrapped up our final few days in Edinburgh by taking in the view from Arthur’s Seat and with visits to Holyrood Palace and The National Museum of Scotland, whose bragging rights include the famous Dolly the cloned sheep among its many historical artifacts.

I believe that places can imprint themselves on our DNA, that we know we are home when we return to them. I cried as I caught my last sight of Scotland from the plane’s window, which I had never done before. There are endless ways in which travel can transform your view of yourself and the world. This trip reconnected me to a part of myself I already knew. Now my love of rainy weather and the scent of woodsmoke, my philosophical nature and my fierce independence, all point to people who have come before me rather than my own personal quirks. Walking through its streets and its hills gave me a deeper understanding of the country’s and my family’s history: Scotland is a land worth fighting for.

x Kate

EAT:

Rhubarb Restaurant: An immersive experience in a 17th-century manor. Start off with drinks and appetizers fireside in the drawing room before dining under the gaze of Charles II. Vegetarian haggis is on the menu, along with the original if you’re brave enough.

Angels with Bagpipes: Farm-to-table fare in an elegant contemporary setting on the Royal Mile. Alex and I talked about the dinner for days.

Timberyard: Tucked away in an old warehouse, the staff of this candlelit gem are passionate about each of the dishes and it shows. And you know it’s authentic when you see “Game may contain shot” at the bottom of the menu.

The Witchery: My absolute favorite, although maybe I’m biased, since the building once belonged to the Semple clan. Like stepping into a dark fairy tale, and the food does not disappoint.

Castle Terrace: Sadly, this restaurant did not survive the pandemic, but I still wanted to pay tribute to it, as we celebrated the last night of our trip there and every detail was phenomenal. I hope another extraordinary chef is able to put their talents to use in the beautiful space soon.

DRINK:

The Scotch Whisky Experience: Disneyland for Scotch lovers (and my husband is one), with a barrel ride through the history of the drink to boot. The tour was so incredibly done, I was convinced by the end that I would actually like Scotch, though the subsequent tasting confirmed I still did not. (More for Alex.)

Cold Town House: Grab a pint on this rooftop bar with epic views of Castle Rock.

The White Hart Inn: Edinburgh’s oldest pub—the name on the site can be traced back to 1516, though the current building dates to 1740.

SHOP:

Strathberry: Beautiful handbags with distinctive details that are designed in Edinburgh and handcrafted in Spain.

For sweaters and scarves that will last you a lifetime. No one does cashmere and wool like the Scottish, but step off the Royal Mile and head toward the historic Grassmarket for the best stuff.

WALK:

In the footsteps of JK Rowling and have coffee at The Elephant House, where she wrote the first Harry Potter book.

Down Victoria Street—its curves and colorful shopfronts are widely believed to have inspired Rowling’s description of Diagon Alley.

To the top of Arthur’s Seat to take in the best views of the city.

WATCH (before you go):

Braveheart

Mary Queen of Scots

Outlaw King