Here's one thing I learned on my mission: on your darkest days, all you really need is an umbrella for a prop and someone to sing "Singin' in the Rain" with you. Here's looking at you, Rachel Margaret Ogelvie. (BTW, saw your clan tartan in a tourist shop today. It is stripey. In case you were wondering.)
Today is Edinburgh.
Of course, I've already been. 'Twas old news. We started at Edinburgh Castle, where I promptly lost everyone else (as usual) and went to see all the stuff I didn't see last time, which was a lot of stuff. I also re-saw some stuff, including the Stone of Scone* which I must have just walked past without noticing last time, despite its being in a glass case and having a guard and all.
Anyway, after giving the castle a good once-over, I trotted down the Royal Mile to Holyrood Palace, where Isabel and I had arrived just fifteen minutes too late to get in. This time was better: I was only ten minutes too late. Rrrrgh. Well, progress.
To comfort myself, I wandered into the Museum of Childhood, and then wandered out again because it was kind of creepy . . . an empty museum full of dolls and toys. Something in there has to be possessed. So instead I wandered up to the National Museum of Scotland, which contained lots of non-creepy things like skeletons and coffins. Sadly, I only had half an hour in there before they closed, but I enjoyed my half-hour immensely.
(Scotland takes credit for John Muir. Well, more power to 'em.)
Wondering what I was going to do with myself until bedtime, I happened upon a theater. It happened to be hosting a touring production of Singin' in the Rain. They happened to offer ten-pound student rush tickets. I happened to have my student ID handy. So that worked out nicely.
I had dinner with some of the study abroad folks at a very tasty burger pub, where I had a cheese burger (quite literally. It was a grilled patty of cheese on a bun. So good.) and formulated sad theories about Singin' in the Rain to help Tiffany achieve her party trick of crying at will.** And then I went to the theatre.
It made me miss my parents, which is not something that happens a lot anymore, globe-trotter that I am. But S'itR is a my-parents thing. They would have loved it. Nothing brings a smile to your face like watching Don Lockwood kick great sheets of water out into the audience like Shamu hitting the Splash Zone. Leena was fabulous, and got her own number, which was the sort of bad singing that can only be done by a really, really good singer. Cosmo was adorable, Kathy's voice was fabulous, and after the first round of bows everybody came out to do one more rain-soaked number. Everybody everybody. The whole cast, with silver umbrellas that opened to reveal brightly-colored undersides, kicked and splashed and got soaked and had a grand old time. I grinned until my jaw fell off and I had to ask the person sitting in front of me to please pick it up and pass it back.
And as it is now ten minutes to midnight, I bid you all a very good morning, and off I go to bed.
*Pronounced 'Stone of Scoone,' unless you read Terry Pratchett, in which case it is pronounced just like it's spelled, otherwise the joke doesn't work.
**Saddest theory: Leena, in her rage at being publicly humiliated, kills Cosmo after the premiere. Even I almost started crying at that thought.