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Writer's pictureKB Cook

Rosslyn Chapel

Ø July 21 Rosslyn (Sunday) More photos can be seen here.

Our plan for Sunday was to catch a #37 bus from Edinburgh to Rosslyn. We’d both read #DanBrown’s #TheDaVinciCode and were intrigued to visit and see the #RosslynChapel where critical action fictively took place. My original agenda was a half mile walk to catch the #37 bus for a continuous ride, but with typical overcast, misty Scottish weather, we walked down the block, around the corner to in front of the Co-Op and caught a bus, to change in Newington (Edinburgh suburb) to take us and drop us at the top of the drive down to the chapel. We’d left early enough so that we’d be able to attend the 10:30 service; in fact, we needed to wait 20 minutes before the church doors were opened to the tourists.

To my surprise, the service was Scottish Episcopal and not Church of Scotland! Mandra followed my lead for the sitting and standing parts, and watched with some interest while the nearly full church attended to the rites. We joined the congregation afterwards for tea and biscuits, and I had an opportunity to speak with the “president”, the lead cleric at the service. At 1pm there was a tour/talk with Maureen who related the history and pointed out features. Unfortunately (but wisely, in my estimation), photography is not permitted within the Collegiate Church of St Matthew as it is a very small space with a significant number of people wandering around. The trust has “posted many photos on their website to help us remember” what we saw. [The implication is there are many photos, but personally, I find their selections meager and incomplete.] No restrictions to photography outside, except drones and wedding parties where the service is held elsewhere.

There was a great deal of ornamentation both inside and outside. Of the nearly 90 pictures I took that day (my normal is 200-300) 65 were taken around the outsides of the chapel, with most of the rest on our walk down the gravel road through the woods to the castle. Field walls of granite blocks lined the path downhill and a tall bridge over a gorge to a dry stream feeding the River North Esk, and red sandstone was used for the castle and some of the ruined out buildings. We both delighted in the mature trees and fields of wildflowers, including Queen Anne’s Lace as we descended and climbed.

Coming out of the chapel grounds, we entered into the T-intersection that is the center of Roslin. It was past 2:30, so we decided to pick a watering hole for lunch. To our right was The Original Roslyn Inn (yes, there are many spellings used) and I asked for a lamb and chorizo kebob to go with my pint of Rosslyn Ale, to be followed by the game pie with cheddar mashed and broccoli. Mine was excellent; I didn’t note Mandra’s selections, nor did I take pictures of hers.

Leaving the Inn, we had an 8-minute wait for the bus back to Princes Street. I noted that there were a lot of stops, probably because it was the middle of the afternoon and folks were up and about. Once we alighted in Edinburgh, we walked a block and hopped onto another bus to Haymarket Station. Tired, we returned to the flat, and just relaxed and talked over cheese, bread, olives and wine. I had tried wearing my new Clarks, the shoes I’d bought in Portsmouth, for the first time, and only wore off skin from the back of one foot.

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