It seems it takes forever to fly from Alicante to Edinburgh. Honestly, it's just inside of Europe, just up the street from Spain. I didn't imagine it would take that many hours. I'm so blasé at this point, I don't read my ticket properly. But it isn't all bad though, I spend all this time sitting between two Scottish women, and I thoroughly enjoy listening to this juicy rolling dialect, my absolute favourite of all the ways of speaking English.

I have had Scotland gleaming there in front of me through all this year of travelling, I decided it was going to be the last stop and I've always felt excited whenever I talked about it with someone, and especially when I met Scottish people along the way. So now I've sent an e-mail to Amanda to say I'll be in Edinburgh at the end of June. I tell her I will let her know the exact date when I know. In the airport I remember that I haven't yet. I take the bus into town and enjoy being back in the UK, feeling a comfortable familiarity with the brick houses, driving on the left side of the street, the red mail boxes and just the general 'Britishness' of everything. For it is not English. Very important. Scotland were once at war with England and were even at one time forbidden to speak their language and to wear the kilt. I walk from the bus stop to the Youth Hostel, and swear to take a taxi when I leave. It's a really hot day and quite a way to walk, and my backpack is no joke. This particular Hostel is apparently a five star one, so this will be interesting. I unload my stuff in the room assigned to me and see that the bathroom is en suite. Fancy.

Back up the long road again to the main street, and I stop to get some money. Scotland has their own type of pounds, with different pictures and colours. I didn't remember that from 12 years ago when I was last here. I was a student in England and I went to Edinburgh Steiner School for a three week teaching practice. I remember I wasn't to keen to go north - it was in November. I imagined it would be very dark and cold and dreary. Me and Celso, a fellow student, he was from the Italian part of Switzerland. I was staying with Amrei, a German friend I studied with the previous year. She was working as a German teacher in the school. Both Celso and me were surprised to find Edinburgh in a state of warmth and merriment, though indoors. What a wonderful city - I remember walking around in the evening looking at the castle on the hill, lit up every night, creating a old-fashioned and friendly atmosphere.

This time it's high summer and all the parks are scattered with people lounging in the grass and having their lunch on benches. I walk up the royal mile, which is approximately the length of one Scottish mile and is comprised of several streets: Castle Esplanade, Castlehill, Lawnmarket, High Street, Canongate and Abbey Strand. It's in the Old Town and has the Castle in one end and Castle Rock in the other. It's filled with tourist shops were you can buy anything tartan - the typical Scottish pattern: kilts, trewsers (trousers), skirts, shawls, scarves, towels and so on. In the background a CD is playing a bag-piping band, Red Hot Chilli Pipers. They sell whiskey, shortbread and anything with pictures of the beauty of the Highland. There are street performers and 'real' shops and even though it is rather full of tourists, it's a very charming part of the city. And off course the bag-pipers. Dressed in their finery they play their merry (and not so merry) tunes. I'm not sure what draws me in - the outfit or a strange sense of nostalgia, because I don't think it's the sound of it. OK, sometimes it's nice. Mostly not.

Another busy street is Princes Street, in the New Town. I find WHSmith, a huge bookshop. I laugh when I remember first coming across this name when I was an au-pair in Walton-on-Thames in England. I just couldn't figure out how to pronounce it. What a relief when someone told me. W. H. Smith. My mind returning to the rows of bookshelves I leaf through a couple of travel guides to Scotland. The one I have just isn't up to scratch, so I indulge in a new one. And it's lovely. This one also has a picture of my absolute favourite castle. Kilchurn Castle on Loch Awe. I'll find it towards the end of my journey, just before I get to Glasgow. It's beautiful. I'm sure in another life I must have lived in the area, it's like a want to go 'home' to it. In every picture book about Scotland there is a picture of it, in different seasons, and every time I think it's the most beautiful one.

It's getting late and I return to the hostel. A group of three young women from Denmark - speaking American to each other - have installed themselves in the dorm, as well as some other women from Germany and Spain. I find the WI-FI spot downstairs and start working out my route. My plan is to travel north on the east coast to Inverness and then south on the west coast, end up in Glasgow and travel to London from there. Seems easy enough. Not so. The coast is scattered with small, cosy villages but they are very hard to get to unless you have a car. After a few phone calls and a loooong time checking things out on the net, I'm not sure any more where I'm going. I sit up and stretch my back, turn around and look out the window. Is that Amanda? I run outside and call her name, she turns around and it takes a second or two before she recognises me. What are the chances?! After a big hug and even bigger smiles I tell her that I had just let her know that was in town in an e-mail, well she had just been thinking about what date I might be arriving. I haven't seen her since Dolphin Bay in Fiji, that's October I think, but chatting is easy and I'm happy that she has time to meet me the following evening. It's about 11 PM when I think to myself that I should just figure my travels out the next day and get to bed when I see the Danish girls just going out the door in their party wear. Ah yes, I remember those days. Now I'm halfway to 70 and happy to go to bed. I have a good sleep.

For a long while. About 5 AM the Danish girls return. Do I hear the sound of two men? Yes, one of the girls have had one too many - or a few too many. She is unconscious and the men are the bouncers from the club carrying her home. She's been throwing up and she is absolutely gone. No response whatsoever. The other two girls have to stay awake the rest of the night to make sure she stays alive. So they pass the time by talking in low whispers about how crazy this is and so on. After a long while the German woman sighs aloud to give them a hint, but to no avail. I manage to go back to sleep and the last thought in my mind is: welcome back to Europe.

The next day I explore a bit around the town and as lunchtime approaches I find the West Princes Street Gardens, yes a park at the end of the Princes Street. It has a view up to the castle, plenty of benches, shaded areas beneath the trees, a beautiful water fountain and flowers. I spend a while here, just watching people, reading my book and simply enjoying the warm, light summer day. In the evening I spend some more time trying to get accommodation and transport, but things are either fully booked - like in St. Andrews, the University town (one of the princes went there) and they have graduation week now. Hundreds of parents are staying in the town to be part of the event. Not a bed anywhere - or too far afield - I talk to a women who has room in a small village, but she tells me that without a car not to bother, it's too expensive with a taxi from the bus stop.

So I get ready for my dinner with Amanda, at the place where she and Stewart works, he in the kitchen and she as a waitress. She picks me up at the hostel and we walk to the restaurant (can't remember the name) and I tell her about my day, and previous night. As I left the room to meet her, the Danish girls were getting ready for bed, having a well needed early night I guess. Stewart was also the chef in Dolphin Bay and I'm looking forward to one of his delicious meals. After we've eaten Stewart comes to join us at the table and we talk for a while and move along to a pub. They're getting married in a couple of weeks and I'm quite entertained by Amanda's tale of how she acquired her wedding dress. Well, enough just to mention that she found it while in New York, ordered it to be shipped to the UK only to open the perfectly wrapped parcel and find her white dress bearing some foul black stain on it. It all turned out well in the end. They worked at Dolphin Bay for a couple of months and got to know the place well, and we shared some memories - and before we knew it the evening was over.

The next morning I check out of my room and spend some more time in the lounge trailing the internet for bus connections or trains. When I've decided where to go, and more importantly learnt that I can in fact get there, I realise that if it's going to happen I have 10 minutes to get to the bus station. On the way down the hill to the hostel when I arrived to Edinburgh I decided not to walk back up again with my backpack. I don't have time to wait for a taxi, so there's nothing for it. Up I go.