The weather forecast for our day in Edinburgh today will be interesting: Nice until about 2 pm then wind and heavy rain. We are driving to Susie’s in-laws unused house to park very near Edinburgh center, meet Susie and bus into downtown. We met at the agreed spot but not the first time. We whiffed the Murrayfield Hotel meeting spot because the construction for the new tram blocked the sign for the hotel. We called Susie who explained what apparently happened, we turned around, met her and parked the car. Whew.

Susie hailed a taxi instead and the five of us climbed in heading for central Edinburgh. The taxi drove to a point about a mile from the Royal Mile. We walked to Susie’s favorite place, Pete’s, for a cup of well-deserved coffee. Allan and Ann had lattes, Marian had a cappuccino and I had black coffee. They thought the coffees were some of the best they had ever tasted. My black coffee was staggeringly strong - and I like coffee strong. After copious amounts of sugar and milk it was tamed enough to drink. Allan and Marian immediately recognized Susie. She and he sister Katherine had spent a weekend with them in Irvine when they lived there in 1990. After about an hour of conversation and reminiscing it was time to get to the business of tourism.

Shopping on the main tourist street, the Royal Mile, in the late morning, Susie then led us to the restaurant where she had booked a table for lunch at half twelve (12:30). She left since she could not take all day off as she was taking next Friday off to fly to Islay to be with us next weekend at Alistair and Judy’s.

For lunch at the Outsider, I had a chilli [sic] burger and chips. Why not? Since our friends the Brennans are always in search of the perfect burger, I thought I would try a Scottish twist on this All-American delicacy. For John and Lisa: This was the best burger I have ever had - Gruyere cheese, huge Scottish Angus beef patty, hot chilis in the meat and a sweet red chili sauce over the meat with the perfect bun. The fries were better than McDonalds, who even Julia Child, that famous French cuisine expert, says are the best.

After that gut-busting meal, we headed UP to Edinburgh Castle. As we reached the top of the castle at Margaret’s Chapel, built in the early 1100s, the dreaded weather hit. The wind howled, the rain came down and life was difficult. We spent most of our time inside the castle rooms fortunately.

Since it was raining and very windy we went into the restaurant Susie had suggested for dinner even though it was only 5:30 (we weren’t hungry yet). We were advised not to try to leave Edinburgh on a Friday evening until after 7 pm due to excessive commute congestion. In the restaurant, Le Sept, we met the perfect French waiter/owner except he only acted French – rude. First, we were told we could only have the table until 7 pm, if not eating, then he told Marian he did not want her wet coat on his seat. It was covered with vinyl! This would have almost been understandable if he were not dressed in Levis and a faded, ratty golf shirt. Oh, and he had not shaved for a while. And he was about 50 years old, overweight and had the attitude of a condescending jerk. We left well before 7 pm – as soon as the rain let up a little.

Hailing a taxi back to the car in the rain and traffic congestion was expensive. We watched as the $10 on the meter doubled as we remained motionless for 15 minutes only 10 blocks from where we parked the car. If it were not pounding rain at this time we would have gotten out and walked. We drove home to Stirling. Now we were hungry. In town we found a bar/pub called the Outback. It was Aussie themed but the only thing Aussie was the Fosters Beer they had. It was now almost 9 pm on a Friday night in a local, not tourist, pub and nobody in the world gets drunk better or faster than a Scot on a weekend. Everyone was well on their way to oblivion. The four of us pushed and shoved locals to get to a table in the back. Ordering the pints at the bar, I asked the barmaid if they served food (I had found a menu) and she had to ask another barmaid. This was not a good sign! Long story short, it was a fantastic meal among loud, singing, spilling drunks. Enough for one day, we fell into bed for the last night at the Coach House.