Tag Archives: United Kingdom

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Two nights in Edinburgh… living life on the Fringe.

As I mentioned in the previous post, we arrived in Edinburgh just in time for the city’s annual Fringe Festival. When I booked our room at the Kimpton Charlotte Square Hotel back in early April, I had no idea this huge festival was going to be happening. If I had to do it over again, I think I would have avoided Edinburgh during the Fringe Festival, not because it isn’t a fantastic festival, but because I don’t enjoy crowds. Edinburgh was bursting at the seams during our two nights there.

Our flight to Edinburgh from Frankfurt occurred on August 2nd. I booked us in business class, not just because I like luxury, but also because we were bringing a lot of bags. During our last visit to Scotland in 2017, Bill had a kilt custom made expressly for gala nights on Hebridean Princess. He doesn’t own a tuxedo and doesn’t particularly want to purchase one. I kept bugging him to get a kilt, even though he’s more Irish than Scottish.

On prior cruises, Bill wore his Army dress blues, but he’s now five years retired and it’s not so easy to fit into the old uniform anymore. Moreover, technically he’s not supposed to wear the uniform at non-military sponsored events, since he’s no longer on active duty. Now, that doesn’t mean he’d get “busted” on Hebridean Princess. In fact, when he’s worn the uniform, he’s mostly been well-received by the other passengers. Most of them have been from Britain and on every cruise we’ve done so far, Bill has met at least a couple of people who have served in Britain’s armed forces. Fellow Americans tend to be scarce on Hebridean cruises. The ones we have met had nothing to do with the military. Still, it was time for a change in wardrobe. The uniform serves as a great conversation piece, but it’s cumbersome and requires crash dieting.

We had to transport the kilt and all that comes with it, as well as a few nice dresses for yours truly. In business class on most airlines, passengers get a generous luggage allowance. On Lufthansa, we each got two free bags. We only checked three bags, which was way more than enough! I really need to learn to pack less!

Our flight to Edinburgh was to commence at 4:15pm. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, although we couldn’t find any luggage carts near where Bill parked. The one machine we found was broken, so we ended up hauling the bags well into the airport before we finally found someone’s mercifully abandoned cart. My mood was rapidly turning to irritation as we searched for a place to check our bags. Although we had just flown out of Frankfurt in late June when we went to Sweden, the check in desk we’d used was moved.

Complicating matters was the fact that the check in desks were on a lower floor and there was no elevator nearby. Somehow, we managed to wrangle the bags onto the escalator without major injury. Then, instead of searching for a proper full service check in, we headed for the self-service luggage drop. That was a bad idea, and didn’t turn out to be self-service, since we ended up requiring assistance. I don’t know what we were thinking. I don’t even like using the self-service checkout at the grocery store. As we were trying to figure out how to get the luggage tags, I remarked to Bill that since we paid for business class, we should have enjoyed all of its perks… like someone who knows what they’re doing and can efficiently get our luggage sorted. Hindsight is 20/20.

Fortunately, there were a couple of Lufthansa staffers on hand to help us get our bags checked. Then, after a somewhat painless trip through security, we headed to passport control, which is always an interesting experience when you’re on “SOFA” status. For those who don’t know, SOFA stands for Status of Forces Agreement. It’s what allows Bill and me to live in Germany and not be legal residents or pay German taxes. We’ve found that the passport officials don’t always know about SOFA, particularly in countries where U.S. forces aren’t typically based.

Even in Germany, which has a long history of hosting U.S. military folks, the passport officials sometimes have to be reminded to check for the blue card. We usually only deal with passport control when we’re headed out of the Schengen zone, like when we go to Britain or the United States. Bill, of course, has dealt with them more than I have on his trips to Africa.

We cleared passport control, then headed to Lufthansa’s business class lounge. Access to the lounge is another reason I usually book business class within Europe. I don’t like crowds and, although the lounge can get crowded, it’s never as crowded as the general areas are in most airports. Lufthansa’s lounges are nice, since they offer relatively quiet places to plug in electronics, comfortable seating, clean toilets, food, and beverages. The ones at Frankfurt Airport also have showers available, which I’m sure are great for people who are on long haul flights.

At about 3:30pm, we headed for our gate, where many people were already congregated. Boarding time was 3:45pm, but it came and went. Our flight was delayed due to weather problems and a computer glitch. I was pretty impatient to get out of Germany. I do love living here, but I also love getting away for a few days. I longed to get to Scotland, where I knew I’d see and hear inappropriate things that would make me laugh. For instance, in Germany, it’s technically against the law to flip someone off, particularly in traffic. I’ve never actually done that myself, but I’ve read that people who get caught doing it can be levied heavy fines. Scotland has no such oppressive laws, as we found out soon after landing in Edinburgh.

Lufthansa’s cuisine in business class. It wasn’t bad. Bill actually liked the green sauce, which is a Frankfurt specialty.

Our flight was okay, except there was a child sitting behind me who kept kicking my seat. Her brother sat in the aisle seat and kept whining for his mom, who was sitting nearby and looked really tired. I couldn’t blame her. Her kids were at a very energetic age, which they were sharing with everyone. The drama escalated when “mama”, apparently from Italy, took her son’s tablet away, causing him to protest rather loudly. I’m glad there was wine.

Somewhere over Scotland!

Edinburgh’s airport is pretty decent, especially compared to Glasgow’s, which we experienced yesterday. When we landed, we had a super quick, painless entrance. It was fully automated and took seconds. I put my passport on a scanner, was deemed “okay”, waited to have my picture taken, then scooted straight through to baggage claim. We had no trouble finding a luggage cart, and after a brief walk to the taxi stand, were soon experiencing our first taste of Scottish hospitality. The hilarious cab driver loaded our bags in the back of his van. As he was packing us up, the cab driver behind him honked. Our cabbie straightened up, smiled pretty, and shot the bird at the guy behind him! I howled with laughter! It felt like I’d come home!

Part 3

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A repost of my review of the Real Mary King’s Close in Edinburgh…

Here’s another Epinions review from 2012 that I’m trying to keep from obscurity.  I am reposting it for those who might be heading to Edinburgh, Scotland, which is one of my favorite places!  The information may no longer be up to date, but our experience will always be the same!

  • Exploring Edinburgh Underground… The Real Mary King’s Close

    Review by knotheadusc
     in Books, Music, Hotels & Travel
      December, 14 2012
  • Pros: Very interesting.  
    Cons: A bit campy.  Forced photo ops.
    Recently, my husband Bill and I took a trip to Scotland where we spent 16 nights exploring Glasgow, the western isles, and Edinburgh.  By the time we got to Edinburgh, the trip was winding down a bit.  Perhaps we should have spent some time wandering around Edinburgh Castle, but I was a bit castled out by then.  I ended up talking Bill into exploring The Real Mary King’s Close instead.

    Who was Mary King and what is a close?

    If you visit Edinburgh and stroll along The Royal Mile, you’ll see narrow alleyways with signs over them.  These alleyways are called “closes”, because they were private properties that could be closed off from the main drag.  They were usually named after one of the more memorable occupants of apartments located within them.

    Mary King was a seamstress and businesswoman in the 17th century who was quite successful.  The close that is named after her is now a commercial tourist attraction that was opened to the public in April 2003.  Before it became a tourist attraction, it was the subject of many ghost stories and urban legends about the people who haunted it, having died there after suffering the plague in the 17th century.

    Visiting Mary King’s Close

    Bill was thinking that Mary King’s Close would be very campy and silly.  Nevertheless, given the mood I was in at the time, I decided I really wanted to see it.  So we showed up in the middle of the afternoon and signed up for the tour.  Adult tickets run 12.75 British pounds, while children between the ages of 5 and 15 pay 7.25.  Senior citizens and students (with ID) pay 11.25.  This attraction is not suitable for children under age 5.  Pre-booking is recommended, though we were able to just walk in.  Be mindful that the tours have different hours depending on the season.

    We were a bit early for the 2:00 tour, so we milled around the very well appointed gift shop.  Had we wanted to, we could have dined at the small outdoor cafe just outside the entrance.  I made myself comfortable using the public restrooms, mildly amused when an electronic voice yelled “Gar-de-loo!” when I flushed.

    Time for the tour

    We were in a group of 13 and a gentleman dressed in 17th century garb and acting as if he came from the 1600s gathered us together, asking if any of us suffered from asthma, claustrophobia, or any other medical condition that might make the tour dangerous or uncomfortable.  He told us he had a walkie talkie from “our time” that would allow him to call for help should it be needed.  Then he advised us that we were not allowed to take photos, though one would be taken of us that we could purchase if we wished.  I always hate the forced photo ops, mainly because I hate how I look in pictures and because I think it’s tacky.

    The tour begins

    We descended down several flights of stairs that took us into the dark, dusty depths of Mary King’s Close.  The guide put on his best act as a man from the 1600s, explaining how people of that time lived and holding a flashlight to prevent people from falling down on the uneven floors.

    We heard the story of a family afflicted with the plague and what was done if it was determined they had a chance of survival… and what was done if it was determined they were doomed.  We heard the story of Annie, a little girl who lived in the Close who lost her doll and supposedly still haunts the Close.  Thousands of people from around the world have left dolls for Annie and they are displayed in her room.  Our guide showed us a workshop that was operated as recently as the 19th century as well as the front of a house that was inhabited until the occupant basically had to be forced out.

    After about an hour, we were on our way back out of the Close, climbing the same stairs.  We had to wait a few minutes for another tour group to pass, and we spent this time in a small room with benches where the guide was available to answer questions.

    As we were leaving Mary King’s Close, Bill said “I have to admit that was interesting.”  And it was, though I will definitely admit it was very campy!

    Overall

    Mary King’s Close is a bit on the silly side, but this tour is based in history and I think it’s worth doing once.  Yes, we probably should have toured the Castle, but I really needed something fun to take my mind off of the bad news we had gotten about our dog, MacGregor (who is still with us and doing better).  Mary King’s Close fit the bill in that regard.  It was interesting.  On another note, having grown up near Williamsburg, Virginia, I’m always interested in history involving Britain or America during that time period.  I’ve toured Colonial Williamsburg several times, so it was kind of cool to get perspective of what was going on during the American Colonial period in Scotland.

    I give Mary King’s Close four stars!

    For more information: http://www.realmarykingsclose.com 

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anecdotes

Part 13… Mildenhall 38 years post PCS…

It may seem odd that out of all the places I could visit in the United Kingdom, I’d want to visit Mildenhall.  Mildenhall is a market town in Suffolk.  It is also home to an Air Force base that has been home to many Americans, including my own family.  My father’s last assignment as an Air Force officer was at Mildenhall.  He was the base engineer there from 1975 until 1978 and we lived in base housing.  Since I was born in 1972, I was just a little girl when we lived on Mildenhall Air Force Base.  I really don’t have any memories of living in Hampton, Virginia, which is where I was born.  I also don’t remember much of Dayton, Ohio, which is where we lived before we went to England.

Although I have been fortunate enough to travel all over Europe and beyond, I hadn’t been to Mildenhall since we PCS’d in 1978, when I was almost six years old.  I have been trying to get back there, though.  Two years ago, when we lived in Texas and Bill was finishing his Army career, we took two Space A trips.  I was kind of hoping we’d wind up at Mildenhall, but we went to Ramstein instead.

When I started planning our Scotland trip and we realized we’d have a few days afterwards to go somewhere else, I decided we’d finally get to Mildenhall, even though it’s not near Scotland and isn’t exactly known for being a tourist destination.  For me, it was exciting to visit again and see my old stomping grounds!

On March 24th, Bill and I said goodbye to Staffordshire and set off for Norfolk, the county next to Suffolk.  As a native Virginian who grew up near Virginia’s own Suffolk and Norfolk, it was a little weird to be going to the original ones in England.  Especially since once we got there, I noticed how much England’s Norfolk and Suffolk looked like Virginia’s Norfolk and Suffolk.

Unfortunately, Bill got my stomach virus, so the drive down there wasn’t as smooth as it could be.  We ended up having to pull off the road once so he could throw up.  I had chosen to book The Willow House, a bed and breakfast in Watton, a little village that was on the way to the airport in Norwich.  Although at the time, I was kind of sad we wouldn’t be able to stay closer to the base, I have to say that now that we’ve been to the Mildenhall area, I’m glad we stayed further out.  Mildenhall is very built up now and traffic is pretty bad there.

The Willow House in Watton.

Basic accommodations.

Thursday night, Bill and I were recovering from our run in with the stomach bug.  We had dinner at The Willow House, which has a pretty nice pub.  The portion sizes were huge and neither of us came close to finishing our meals.  On the other hand, I had a good rib eye steak, which was a nice change of pace after a week of so much fresh seafood.  The Willow House also has a nice selection of cask ales, which Bill and I appreciated as beer lovers.

Cute pub!

Bill’s huge jacket potato, which he said wasn’t quite cooked all the way.

 

My steak.  this came with chips, too.  It was way too much food, but the steak was good.

 

An example of breakfast at The Willow House.

The accommodations at The Willow House are pretty basic, but reasonably priced.  For years, my uncle ran the The Natural Bridge Hotel and Conference Center in Natural Bridge, Virginia.  They have “cabins” there.  Basically, they are little buildings with six to eight rooms in them.  The Willow House only has one building with rooms, but it really reminded me of the Natural Bridge Hotel cabins.  The Willow House has plenty of free parking and offers a great breakfast.

On Friday morning, after a good night’s sleep, Bill and I were both feeling fine again.  We had a big breakfast in the inn’s charming restaurant, then set off for Mildenhall.  Bill had set the GPS to find Tolley Cobbold Street.  If you click the link, you can get the backstory on why finding that street was on my bucket list.  The short version is that legend has it, that street was named after my late father, Charles P. Tolley.  I wanted to see if the street was still there 38 years after we PCS’d.

We got to Mildenhall and found Tolly Cobbold Street.  At first, I was a little disappointed.  Tolly Cobbold is the name of a beer that was produced for centuries in nearby Bury St. Edmunds until the brewery ceased production in 2002.  I was looking for Tolley Cobbold Street.  Unwilling to be let down by not finding it, Bill and I drove around some more and found the British school where I went to kindergarten.  We found the main drag, which features beautiful St. Mary’s Church and a charming little market square.  We also found our old house, which I easily recognized because it’s base housing and there’s a big field behind it.

Beyond those brambles is the field that backs up to our old house on base.  In my day, there were cows there.  Now, there are horses.  I’d rather gaze at the horses.

 

Me in Mildenhall as a little girl, looking at the cows from our yard.


Tolly Cobbold Street

 

Tolley Cobbold Road!

I told Bill I wanted to drive into our old neighborhood.  He was reluctant because we didn’t have a visitor’s pass.  However, I noticed that the guard shack near the neighborhood (which I don’t think existed in 1978) was standing wide open and unmanned.  I kept pressuring Bill, so he finally relented…  And then, I saw it.  The sign… Tolley Cobbold Road (instead of Street).  As I snapped a picture of it, I had to wonder how many Air Force folks looked at that sign right next to Tolly Cobbold Street and wondered if it was a typo.

My old school.  I went to kindergarten here with a bunch of British five year olds.  My mom said she sent me there because the school day was longer.  I’m glad she did it, even if she did it for kind of selfish reasons.

Our old English house… the first one I have memories of in my lifetime.  I sent these pictures to my sisters, who were much older when we lived there, and they confirmed that my memory hadn’t failed me!

I was a little sad to see all those trash bins under the gazebo.  

Scenes from around Mildenhall.  I hear they are planning to shut the base…  That makes me sad, especially since its been built up so much now!  And they like Americans, too… right?

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