The castle is more famous for its position than for its relics,
perched, as it is, atop a smoked-out volcano. I saved
my 18 quid and walked the Royal Mile to Holyrood Park,
where you can see out to the Firth of Forth for free. You must
tell me more about the thin orange and gray striations in the rock
and the sheer drops where I imagine some Scott heroine tore
her corset in heaves of frustrated desire. This morning I saw
two men kitted up in kilts and sporrans go into Starbucks,
then order lattes and Chai spice muffins. Just an hour ago,
a man who looks exactly like my Uncle Hok-Wei was playing
bagpipes in Parliament Square and smiling for photos with German
tourists. It's funny how many pubs advertise "authentic haggis,"
as if daring passerby. Maybe it's no coincidence
this city has so many vegetarian restaurants.