We have a couple travel days ahead of us, so today was essentially our last day touring and likely my last post unless something dramatic happens during our train travels from Edinburgh to London.

Since we dropped off the car, we’re back up to about 18,000 steps a day (although we logged a respectable 12,000 even with the car).

We decided to end at a place we loved when we visited twelve years ago: Edinburgh.

We have such fond memories of the city from that first trip. This time we stayed in the West End rather than along the Royal Mile.  We loved our new home base.  The elegance of the Georgian architecture and communal gardens. 

The heart of this area was a giant Episcopal Church named St. Mary’s Cathedral. We used it as a landmark to find our way home. You could see the spires across the city. From our viewpoint of the Castle, it dominated everything around it. Last night, the bells, pealed endlessly. They were ringing melodically on our way to dinner, and still ringing when we came home from dinner two hours later.

This morning we wandered through the Queen’s gardens on our way to the Royal Mile and Edinburgh Castle.

The gardens were peaceful and lovely. I think it’s finally been warm enough that the roses are starting to bloom!!  the Castle sits high above the West End and the gardens. Although I tried to take pictures, nothing could reflect how dramatic it was. After lunch, we did a bit of last-minute shopping on the Royal Mile and then headed for our 3 PM timeslot up to see the Castle. As we got closer and closer to the castle, the humanity seemed to get thicker, it was the first time this entire trip that I was truly OVER the crowds.

Huge crowds. Long lines. Pushy people.

We snaked through a Disneyland-like queue to enter the castle. The lines never seemed to stop moving. We marched past the Honors of Scotland—the crown, scepter, and other royal treasures—with ushers and fellow tourists urging us onward. After less than a minute in the jewel room, we were funneled directly into a gift shop and out the door.

Oddly enough, it made us appreciate our trip even more.

For five weeks, we somehow managed to avoid most of that.

We wandered through gardens with room to breathe. We explored castles where we could linger in a room as long as we liked. We found quiet river walks, village bakeries, tiny museums, live music in unexpected places, and roads that led us to places we never would have discovered had we stayed on the main tourist trail.

As I think back over the journey, it’s hard to pick a favorite.

Some places surprised us completely. Inverness. The live music scene. Bodnant Garden.

Some were exactly what we expected. Castles. Especially those dark, Victorian, turreted castles.  Museums and art galleries. 

And some were exactly as expected, but were spectacular beyond belief. The White Cliffs of Dover. Stonehenge. Glencoe. Places so iconic that you wonder whether they can possibly live up to the photographs—and somehow they do.

But perhaps what I’ll remember most isn’t any single destination. It was the pace.

The freedom to stay awhile. To wander. To follow a recommendation from an innkeeper. To stop for tea. (Oh how we love afternoon tea breaks).  To sit on a bench and watch the sea, to listen to birds, to follow a creek.  To drive along quiet country roads and watch for highland cows or adorable lambs.

We learned, that travel isn’t always about seeing the most things. Sometimes it’s about taking the time to see things well.