Greyfriars Kirk

Greyfriars Kirk combined two of my favorite things:  cemeteries and dogs.  Here lies Bobby, a very loyal pooch.  He's a Skye terrier.  Yes, that Skye.  Mary Queen of Scots had one.  She hid it under her petticoats when Elizabeth had her head chopped off.  Poor dog!

As you can see, Greyfriars has given Bobby a place of real prominence.  The church itself was closed for a rehearsal of some kind.

 

This fella was born more than 3,500 dog years ago.

Just as I snapped this picture of a prestigious boy's school beyond Greyfriars gates, I heard a guide forbid tourists in her group from doing so.  "We've had complaints," she said.  Perhaps the students should find a more private place to practice on their bagpipes.

Most of the graves here were even older than those I'd seen outside St. Magnus's Cathedral in Kirkwall.

A locked gate prevented us from entering this part of the cemetery.  Seventeenth-century Scots who wanted a more prominent role for the Presbyterian Church, known as Covenanters, were imprisoned and buried here.  It's been closed since 1990 because of vandalism and drug use.

Such tranquility in the face of so much violent history.

I wonder how the neighbors feel about sharing wall space with the dead?

Our walk back to the hotel took us up colorful Victoria Street.

Independence for Scotland!  Is that Adam Smith?

What would his buddy David Hume have thought?  He's among the many philosophers I had to read as a freshman, part of Columbia College's core curriculum.  It's embarrassing how little I retained.

You might ask what Alexander the Great and his steed Bucephalus are doing in front of Edinburgh's City Chambers.  The sculptor intended it to symbolize the power of the mind over brute force.  That's beginning to seem more and more like wishful thinking.  Ukraine anyone?