Edinburgh to Ireland

Day 3, our friends took us to North Berwick. On the way, we stopped for breakfast at a place called The Drift. I, for one, really am into recycling and was excited to see The Drift owners had utilized several metal shipping containers to construct their restaurant on a plot of land on a cliff with an amazing view of the windswept beach below. The Drift has a small but adequate menu and specialty coffees. I had the Poached Egg on Toast (basically an eggs Benedict) and Diane had the Brioche French Toast.

Just up the road, typical of several castles we saw, was Tantallon Castle. An amazing ruin with a breathtaking view of the Firth of Forth/North Sea and coastline. Built about 1358 on a cliff top, it was home to the Douglas family. It was subjected to sieges in 1491, 1528 and ultimately by Oliver Cromwell in 1651. Cromwell used lots of canon fire to demolish most of the castle we see today.

Some walls were 13 feet thick and 7 story gun towers reduced to 4 stories and held off most of Cromwell’s army until they started to fall and allow his guys to take the castle. You can still walk all the way up on some pretty small circular stairs and get a sense of life in the castle. Once on top of the parapets, you get sweeping views of the coast and beach below the castle.

We then rode our way into North Berwick, a wonderful little coastal town with a harbor straight out of Doc Martin or Father Brown. Unfortunately, North Berwick is also known for its famous Witch Trials from 1590-92. Back then, if you needed to get rid of uppity women, you labeled them a witch and the townspeople would remedy the situation by hanging or burning them at the stake. Not cool.

North Berwick’s natural harbor, even today, serves as a landing for ferries between it and Anstruther in Fife across the Firth of Forth (I love saying that). The Industrial Revolution bypassed Berwick and it became a golf and vacation spot for north Scotland.

Our last day in Scotland we, of course, had to do a Formal Tea at Prestonfield House (yes, Debbie). The wonderful estate house, now a hotel, originated as a monastery back in 1150 but was burned down in an anti-Catholic riot in 1681. James Dick (not kidding) bought what was left and turned it into an estate around 1687.

We were met by an extensive menu of Tea selections and two courses of sandwiches and desserts. We could order pots of any or all of the Teas they listed as often as we wanted. We were pretty full at the end and tried to walk it off around the park in front of the hotel. There we found some of the Scottish Highland Cattle indigenous to the area. Big hairy cows, some with “Longhorn” style horns.

That day, we made our way back to Edinburg International Airport for our incredibly short flight to Belfast, Northern Ireland. It was a parabolic flight, once in the air at altitude, the Captain told us to put our seatbelts back on and prepare for landing, we began our descent, back to the ramp, maybe 30 minutes takeoff to landing, tops.

The following day, we began with breakfast at The Pocket. Literally a tiny café in an alley (known as a “Close” in these parts). A quaint little place with few tables and chairs but a great menu.

Then we made our way to the St. George's Market. A three day Victorian style market over the weekend, the market basks under an extensive roof built by the City between 1890 and 1896. It is an award winning European Market with over 300 stalls of food, swag, music and food park. It’s dog friendly and even runs “a quiet hour” each day for sound sensitive customers.

During the Blitz in WWII, it was used as an emergency Mortuary. In the 1980’s, the facility was needing extensive upgrades and the City of Belfast considered selling the land to developers but the citizens began a campaign to fund a restoration to keep the market alive and they reopened the doors in 1999.

After the Market, we made our way to the Titanic Museum. Titanic, along with its sister ship the Olympic, were built at Harland and Wolff in Belfast Harbor. The museum was built on the site of the dry docks used in their building.

The museum is designed like the bow of Titanic which provides a gage of how big the ship was. Literally thousands of men worked on Titanic. The keel was laid in 1909 and completed the physical structure in 1911. Inside was a great interactive ride which took us  through the sometimes dangerous iron work in Titanic’s construction at the shipyard.

Titanic Test Model

Inside are many relics from the ship and the many stories of the passengers and crew who perished. Touching stories of heroics and tragedy once the ship was struck and sank. Many of the mistakes made during that time were subsequently remedied by changes in International Law like providing enough lifeboats for all passengers, lifeboat drills, 24 hour staffed radio operators and iceberg patrols to warn ships of dangerous ice flows. Titanic trivia, it was the first use of the call for help, S.O.S.

Dinner was at The Morningstar Bar and Restaurant where we met a delightful young woman server who turned out to be a college student from New Mexico of all places. Great old pub established in 1810 with an extensive menu. I had a terrific Morning Star Gourmet Burger and fries, Diane had the Roast Beef.

Gracehill

Next day, we drove to Bushmills, Ireland. On the way, we stopped at Gracehill, Ireland a UNESCO World Heritage site. It began as a Moravian church town in 1763. They were a breakaway sect of Catholics turned Protestant from Bohemia around 1457 and settled in Germany. Like Quakers, to avoid further persecution, they came to Gracehill to create a religious settlement which still exists today.

While waiting for the Millside Restaurant to open for lunch, we came across a lovely 93 year old woman, Roberta Thompson, who realized we were tourists and gave us a quick tour of her home town. Moravians were at one time segregated in all their activities keeping men and women, boys and girls separate until marriage. Even the cemetery has women on one side and men on the other. They are now integrated and have a sizeable presence in Africa, parts of Europe and the US.

Then we made our way to Bushmill and the Giants Causeway on the north coast with a portion of Scotland in view a mere 60 miles away. Really wild coastline with wind whipped crashing waves in what had to be freezing ocean water. The rock outcroppings were thousands of basalt columns rising out of the ground. The columns are hexagonal and look as though they were cut by machine. They are the result of an ancient volcanic eruption back in the Paleogene era about 45 million years ago.

After walking back up from the beach, we stopped in the Causeway Hotel and rested. While there, we had a nice cheese Charcuterie and, being in Bushmill, I sampled a glass of their famed Whiskey (no Jameson here).

There is some disagreement as to where Whiskey (Whiskey with an E is distilled in Ireland, Whiskey without an E is distilled in Scotland) came from, Ireland or Scotland. Most likely when Monks experimented with Mediterranean distillation in the 1400’s. They referred to their amber liquid as “aqua vitae”, water of life, back around 1405. It is first mentioned, of course, in Scottish tax records in 1494. Then, in the 1780’s, they made laws forcing distillers to be licensed and began the backyard distillery business, dodging Revenuers, that continues to this day. Really fun.

Next day we journeyed to Dublin, Republic of Ireland, by train. We hopped onto an Ireland Rail train line south to Dublin about two hours on a very comfortable ride with only three stops. That part of Ireland is very scenic like, I imagine, most or all of Ireland is. Very green with rolling hills and a brief view of the Irish Sea. We had brought good weather to Belfast but Dublin was occasional rain showers with a biting cold wind at times. On the way to our hotel, our Uber driver told us, in Ireland, you can get all four seasons in one day. There is evidence that is true.

After dropping off our bags, we motored over to The Brazen Head for lunch. The Brazen Head is Dublin's oldest Pub in what was the center of Dublin’s Old Town. The Pub is originally the site of a hotel built in 1198 and subsequently a stable/hotel in the 1700’s. The Pub sits at the foot of the Father Mathew Bridge which crosses the River Liffey which was the original entry point to the Dublin settlement back to Viking times. The Irish name for Dublin is Baile Atha Cliath means “The Town of the Hurdle Ford” which refers to the way people used to cross the river at low tide by stomping down the reeds growing along the river ultimately replaced by bridges.

Inside the Pub, the interior reeks of 17-18^th century vibe with ancient doors still separating the rooms. In the bar where we sat, were hundreds of US dollars, pound notes and Euros (only accepted by Dublin businesses, The Republic of Ireland is still in the EU) lining the walls along with shoulder patches from various agencies including a California Highway Patrol patch I was sitting under.

Then we attended our Guiness Storehouse Tour. In the former St. James Gate brewery, they remodeled and created the Guiness Experience. Started by Arthur Guiness in 1759, Guiness signed a lease on a disused brewery site for 9,000 years at 45 pounds a year (pretty good deal if you ask me).

Begun as an Ale, Guiness changed to a Stout in 1799. The dark beer, with a creamy thick head and tingly-acidic taste created by injecting nitrogen and carbon dioxide, became popular and at one time was marketed as medicinal and typically given to nursing mothers and hospital patients. Over 10 million pints are served in the world daily.

Guiness became international in 1827 and is now brewed in 49 countries. The Harp Trademark is modeled on the Trinity College harp, an Irish icon. When the Irish Government wanted to use the Harp in its logo, they had to pay Guiness to avoid a Copyright violation. Wow.

The Verdict: Belfast vs. Dublin

As our journey wound down, someone asked which city I preferred. While I haven’t explored every square inch of the Emerald Isle, Dublin took the crown for me.

Don't get me wrong—every person we met across the island was incredibly warm and helpful. However, Belfast felt a bit colder, edgier, and more overtly commercial. We passed quite a few closed businesses with heavy iron security gates, plenty of graffiti, and a visible homeless population. It just didn't quite give off an aura of total safety.

Dublin, by contrast, felt cosmopolitan yet distinctly warmer and less hectic. The King Street area where we stayed was vibrant, clean, and colorful, with very little graffiti and no obvious security locks on the storefronts.

All in all, it is an incredibly welcoming place to visit. At one point, a local shop worker even apologized to us, mistakenly thinking we were Canadians. I absolutely loved both Scotland and Ireland, and I wouldn’t mind heading back someday.

Edinburgh, Scotland

 After connecting through Heathrow, we landed in Edinburgh, the majestic capital of Scotland. The weather welcomed us with a typical gray, gusty day. I know Texas wind, and this was its absolute equivalent—just vastly colder.

Our local friends met us at the airport and immediately drove us to Rosslyn Chapel, founded in 1446. While the chapel is famous for many reasons, I was drawn by its mystical lore. Depending on which legend you believe, it is either the hiding place of the Holy Grail or the final resting place of Mary Magdalene. Movie buffs will also recognize it from Tom Hanks’ The Da Vinci Code (2006). We walked through the exact stone rooms used during filming, which felt incredibly surreal (and no, we didn’t find the Grail!).

Next, we braved the elements at Craigmillar Castle, a medieval ruin dating back to the 14th century. The stronghold changed hands across several families over the generations until the Gilmour family moved into more modern lodgings in the 18th century, leaving the castle to turn into a romantic ruin. We battled the biting wind to reach the top of the parapet, where we were rewarded with a sweeping, panoramic view of the Lothian landscape.

Fun fact, the abbreviation for
Edinburgh Waste Water system

On our way to dinner, our friends regaled us with local Edinburgh trivia. We learned that the city sits atop extinct volcanoes—the most prominent being Arthur’s Seat—and that the cloning of Dolly the Sheep (named after Dolly Parton) was cloned nearby. In town, all the public tower clocks are intentionally set three to five minutes ahead so commuters never miss their trains. As a bonus for film fans, various winding corners of the city and Edinburgh Castle directly inspired the backdrops of the Harry Potter movies.

First meal was at The Queens Arms. Our friends insisted we try the Haggis. Now we have a friend, Irene, a native from Scotland. She once described to me the contents and preparation of Haggis, Scotland’s National Dish. From her description, it didn’t sound like something I would enjoy (or consume for that matter). So, I have worked under the assumption that Nick will try anything once.

The server brought out the traditional presentation of Haggis, a brown pudding-like mound between mashed potatoes (“tatties”…no jokes please) and mashed “neeps” (turnips). Fearing the worst, I dove in and was pleasantly surprised. The Haggis had the consistency of a meatloaf and the taste, and I kid you not, of Turkey stuffing. Very tasty.

The following day, we hopped onto one of Edinburgh's efficient double-decker transit buses to explore the historic Old Town. Our target was the Royal Mile, starting at St. Giles’ Cathedral. 

Built by King David I in 1124, St. Giles has been a working church for over 900 years. Inside, the soaring height of the ribbed ceiling and the vibrant, kaleidoscopic stained glass take your breath away. It also serves as a profoundly moving memorial to fallen military personnel, with poignant tributes carved into the walls and floors.

We quickly learned just how deeply the British Royal Family is rooted in Scottish history. The modern Windsors trace their lineage back to the House of Stuart, who ruled Scotland between 1371 and 1714. Because of this bond, when Queen Elizabeth II passed away in 2022, she was first brought to lie in state at Holyroodhouse Palace, on the other end of the Royal Mile, before her funeral service here at St. Giles.

From the cathedral, we met our guide for Edinburgh Castle. Our tour guide, an Australian named David, used brilliant historical context and sharp humor to escort us across the volcanic fortress grounds. As one of the oldest fortified sites in Europe, the castle sits atop a sheer volcanic crag, offering a commanding view stretching all the way to the North Sea coast. Iron Age tribes first occupied this stronghold around 900 BC, and it has changed hands violently throughout Scotland's turbulent past. Mary, Queen of Scots lived here safely for a time before royal life shifted down the road. Remarkably, it remains a functioning military base today.

At the castle's highest point sits St. Margaret’s Chapel, the oldest surviving building in Edinburgh. Named for King David I’s charitable mother, it has become the National War Memorial honoring those lost in global conflicts, keeping their names in sacred books where new entries are still added today. We also explored the grim stone vaults of the crown prison, which once held 1,000 captive soldiers from the American Revolution. David pointed out a fascinating hidden gem: carved inside a wooden cell door is the earliest known depiction of the American flag in Europe.

After a grueling day of walking, we celebrated with delicious tapas, great service, and warm atmosphere at Café Andaluz before collapsing into bed.

The following day, we returned to the bottom of the Royal Mile to tour the Holyroodhouse Palace with audio guides. The site began as Holyrood Abbey in 1128, founded by King David I after he witnessed a mystical vision of a stag with a glowing cross—or "rood"—between its antlers. 

Construction on the palace itself began in 1501. When James VI of Scotland inherited the English crown in 1603, he moved his court to Windsor Castle in London, leaving Holyrood largely abandoned until the monarchy was restored in 1660. It wasn't until King George V visited in 1903 that the palace was finally modernized with electricity and central heating.

Today, King Charles III still uses Holyroodhouse for official state ceremonies. While the exterior boasts dramatic, somber Gothic architecture, the state apartments inside feel surprisingly grand and functional. We toured the Great Gallery, lined with portraits of Scottish royalty, the massive Dining Room, and the King’s Privy Chamber, where world leaders are still received today. Stepping back outside, we explored the skeletal, romantic ruins of the original 12th-century abbey. 

The palace is surrounded by manicured lawns, vibrant royal gardens, and a massive park, providing a peaceful, majestic end to our days adventure.

Trip across the Pond

 

Another adventure.  Diane and I, winging our way across the Atlantic to the UK. I have already been thoroughly and properly chastised for referring to our destination as simply "England" or "Great Britain." To set the record straight, our itinerary is to land in London and connect immediately to Edinburg, Scotland (Edin-bra, apparently, if you want to sound like a local).

For the first time in our traveling history, we will be staying with friends. Aaron and Nicol are transplants from San Diego, California, and Nicol happens to be a former coworker from Diane’s days at the District Attorney’s Office.

Diane and I are transplants too, of course, but the universe loves a twist. By pure coincidence, Nicol grew up in The Colony, Texas—just a stone’s throw from our current home in Aubrey. Her parents still live there.

We rekindled our connection when Nicol mentioned that she and Aaron spend their Christmas vacations back in Texas. Naturally, we started meeting them for holiday breakfasts at Barney's Brunch House in Frisco, Texas. Over hot coffee and high stacks of pancakes, this wild, wonderful plan to visit Scotland was hatched.

Of course, with any great plan comes great responsibility. I was tasked with securing the airline reservations, accompanied by one terrifyingly non-negotiable caveat from my wife: it had to be Business Class, or no go.

Let me explain.

A while back, our very good friend Sara organized a “girls’ trip” to the UK. Neither her husband, Chad, nor I were even invited. Sara and Chad are world travelers who possess roughly a billion American Airlines miles. Sara booked the reservations, and off the ladies went into the wild blue yonder.

Luxury Monster Maker

Now, as American OneWorld members (yeah, OneWorld, one word), Chad and Sara belong to the hoi polloi—the elite high society of the skies. They receive the kind of airline treatment usually reserved for royalty. They are those enviable souls you see boarding first while you hover with the unwashed masses back in Group 10. They are already tucked into their private pods, sipping Champagne, while you are still back in row 42 negotiating armrest property rights with a Sumo wrestler.

But I digress.

During that fateful trip, Diane went totally goo-goo eyed over her comfortable digs up front. She pelted my phone with snapshots of her little slice of aviation heaven. Right then, I realized Sara had inadvertently created a luxury-loving monster (I think she's actually a First Class Recruiter for American). I could see the handwriting on the cubicle wall: we would be revisiting this high life soon enough.

Sure enough, as I gathered dates and times for our Scottish excursion, the second shoe dropped. “We” needed to secure Business Class seating for the eight-and-a-half-hour flight.

Now, I am neither a Luddite nor a Killjoy when it comes to my wife’s comfort. However, I like to think of myself as "thrifty"—a fiercely protective steward of our finances. I am a solid, proud Economy Class traveler. I am a man who willingly covets the modest lottery win of an expansive exit row.

Hey, I was a dedicated Spirit Airlines flyer back when they still had non-reclining plastic seats and no tray tables. (As of this writing, I was sad to hear Spirit filed for bankruptcy, proving that the world just isn't ready for such pure, unadulterated thriftiness).

My wife, however, is not a JetBlue flyer.

Add to this the immense pressure of the trip coinciding with our sixth wedding anniversary, and the financial stars were aligned against my wallet. To give you the Reader’s Digest version: when all the digital ink had dried, I had spent the equivalent of a new car down payment (maybe two) on airline tickets.

But oh, the magic that followed.

Suddenly, with our newfound notoriety, we were the elite. We marched into DFW airport to join our fellow "Priority Members" at the American Desk. No self-check-in kiosks for us. No sir. We bypassed the Commoner queues and strode straight to the front of the line at Priority Check-In.

A delightful agent checked our passports. A gentleman hoisted our heavy luggage onto the scale, tagged them with neon "Priority" tape, and gently laid them on the conveyor belt as if they were fragile glass. We were ushered into the TSA Priority Screening line, bypassing the endless sea of humanity, and pointed directly toward the American Airlines Admirals Club.

Because we were flying International Business Class, we were wined and dined at a well-stocked buffet brimming with finger sandwiches, hot soups, and fresh sushi.

At the appointed time, we reached our gate just as "Priority Boarding" echoed over the loudspeaker. Group One! Listen, if you’ve ever stood in a chaotic, cattle-call line for Southwest, you know how massive that feels. We boarded right on the heels of the first-class flyers and those needing extra assistance—the people I have spent a lifetime secretly envying from afar.

We walked down the winding jet bridge, stepped into the vast expanse of our Boeing 787, and turned left into Business Class.

It was a wonderland. The cabin featured cute little private cubicles arranged four across, squeezed in right next to three—count 'em, three—restrooms dedicated just to our exclusive domain. A flight attendant immediately set upon us, passing out glasses of real Champagne (I could tell...there were real bubbles) while we stowed our bags.

The window DIMMED, no pull down

The cubicles were slightly larger than a vintage phone booth (I know, I'm dating myself, but it's an apt description). Waiting for us was a set of quilted sheets to lay over our convertible seat-bed, a plush pillow, a designer amenity kit, and even a pair of cozy socks and slippers we actually got to keep. We had flat-screen TVs to watch movies and noise-canceling Bang & Olufsen headphones. And I must say, the food was exceptional. Simply amazing.

And now, the epilogue.

In the midst of all that excess and exceptionalism, lying flat at 35,000 feet, I felt a little off. We are not wealthy by any means. In our retirement, we are blessed with a decent standard of living and are very comfortable. But we both came from humble beginnings.

To this day, I suffer from a sort of financial PTSD from my childhood. My dad worked incredibly hard to bring home the bacon, and my mom was a dedicated homemaker who cared for us the best she could. You got a present or two under the tree at Christmas, and that was it—A Christmas Story (1983) was practically a documentary of my childhood home.

I thoroughly enjoyed the luxury and the pampered surroundings for those nine hours in the air. Yet, as I lay perfectly flat on my sky-bed, sipping bubbles above the clouds, I couldn’t help but wonder what better, more practical use we could have found for all that money.

I know, I know... what a Killjoy. But hey, at least I looked stylish doing it.

The Great Texas Snowmageden 2026 Day 2

 

Or watch the video: Texas Snowmageden 2026 Day 2

It's January 25th, 2026 and North Texas is getting their fill of wintry weather. Our usual "cold spell:" has turned into drifts of real snow (actually more ice than snow). The temperature dipped into single digits overnight and a harsh wind blew out of the Northwest causing everything in sight to freeze solid.

The real test of our resilience will be in the thaw in the next couple of days in which any hidden pipe bursts hiding in the recesses of our walls and ceilings will come forth and make for a sad conclusion to the wonder of the rolling white drifts we have today.

The Great Texas Snowstorm of 2026

 The Texas Snomageden 2026 Video

 Texas Snowmageden 2026