A Tale of Three Cities I: Edinburgh

by Neil Matthews

It had all started when Helen had found out that a meeting of a national committee of her professional body was taking place, for a change, in Edinburgh. The meeting was on a Friday. Helen had never been to Scotland and I hadn’t set foot in Edinburgh for twenty years. So we decided to use the Saturday to get a glimpse of the city. One day could only afford a glimpse. So we hit on the idea of visiting as many sights as possible for free.

Time constraints led us to focus on locations in and around the Royal Mile. It was a cold and wet day, which only seemed to heighten the imposing effect of the grey stone from which Edinburgh had been hewn. The city seems to be making a statement: whatever comes and goes, no matter what, it is there to stay and endure.

Happily, the outward dourness belies some fascinating visitor attractions. In Lady Stair’s House, Lawnmarket, sits the Writers’ Museum. Although temporary exhibitions remember other writers, the Museum is primarily an insight into the lives of Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott and Robert Louis Stevenson. For a small property, the Museum packs in a lot of portraits, manuscripts and personal exhibits such as Burns’ writing desk and Scott’s chessboard.

The life of Stevenson - a sickly boy from a middle class Edinburgh family, who died in Samoa aged 44 - is probably impossible to make dull anyway. From Travels with a Donkey to Kidnapped, Treasure Island and The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Stevenson’s work amuses, enthralls and intrigues readers of all ages even now. Much of his work focused on Scottish character and history - something he had in common with Scott, another son of Edinburgh. Scott was also sickly as a child and polio left him with a lame leg, but this did not prevent him becoming one of the best known and most revered figures of his time. His work as a lawyer did not prevent him from producing an outstanding body of novels and poetry, and even masterminding arrangements for the visit of George IV to Edinburgh - the first royal visit in many years. Scott’s legacy to Scotland took many forms (for example, the novel Heart of Midlothian led to a dance hall of the same name, which in turn inspired some of its patrons to found the football club).

Burns was the odd man out, being born not in Edinburgh but in Alloway. He might have emigrated to Jamaica but for the unexpected success of Poems, chiefly in the Scottish dialect when it was published in 1786. Only after then did Burns decide to further his literary ambitions by visiting Edinburgh, an adventure which is recollected by the Museum’s audio reconstructions.

For those of an artistic bent, the five buildings which comprise the National Galleries of Scotland may provide many hours of pleasure and enlightenment. We only had time to visit the National Gallery itself, situated between the Old Town and the New Town on The Mound. Although it claims the largest and most comprehensive collection of Scottish paintings in the world, the Gallery is also home to a number of Impressionist and post-Impressionist works by Gauguin, Monet, Cézanne and others. Bernini, Canaletto, Canova and many other masters are also represented. The rich reds and greens of the traditional décor, including period furniture, are easy on the eye and do not detract from the art.

For a focus on Edinburgh, look no further than the Museum of Edinburgh itself at 142 Canongate. Huntly House, a restored 16th century mansion, hosts various collections and artefacts relating to the city, such as the National Covenant which Scotland’s Presbyterian leaders signed in 1638. There is a section devoted to Field Marshal Earl Haig, but sadly this was closed at the time of our visit. The collections of Edinburgh silver and glass are particularly fine.

 The Museum of Childhood, at 42 High Street, will take you from centuries of history to an almost inevitable nostalgia if you are of a certain age - and may even intrigue the children of today. It was opened in 1955, so is coming into middle age itself. There are exhibits of how children were dressed, how they played and how they were educated in generations past. For me, the interesting point was the overt educational content of most of the board games on display. It was a mite alarming, on the other hand, to read on one board of the player finding “something nasty in the hedge” as he attempted to visit his granny. If dolls and dolls’ houses, train sets and teddy bears are your cup of tea, you will love this museum. Or, as Miss Jean Brodie remarked in another context: “For those who like that sort of thing, that is the sort of thing they like.”

We almost broke our pledge to avoid spending when we entered St Giles’ Cathedral. The central pillars date from around 1120 and the church was burnt by an English army in 1385 before being rebuilt over the subsequent 530 years. As a result, it is a mish-mash of styles and content, but charming all the same. The cost of taking photographs is £1, but the little old lady to whom we enquired advised us to walk around before parting with our pound. We might prefer to buy a (cheaper) postcard, she said.

Our final free visit was an external gawp at the new Scottish Parliament. The building has an impossible task - namely to fit in with the rest of this very distinctive city, but also to assert its own identity. As with most impossible tasks, this one has failed. The curious mixture of grey stone and bent bamboo sticks round the doors and windows lends the Parliament a temporary air which was surely not intended. Given the controversy over the excessive amounts spent on its construction, it reminded me of a remark attributed to Dolly Parton when asked why she didn’t retire: “It costs a lot of money to look this cheap.” 

 Having spent precisely no money at all on seeing any of the sites mentioned, it was only fair that we should pay a brief visit to Harvey Nichols. Crowds of enthusiastic shoppers swarmed around us as we gazed disbelievingly at a pumpkin. This unimpressive object and its ludicrous £4 price tag seemed totally out of kilter with all that had gone before. Scots presumably know a bargain when they see one; on our way out, we did not pass any new proud owners of overpriced pumpkins.

 First published in VISA issue 66 (Apr 2006).