One thing I did while Trisha was shopping on the Royal Mile was catch a glimpse of a sign that said “Writers Museum” and pointed down Lady Stair’s Close, a narrow passageway opening into a courtyard. The museum itself is housed in Lady’s Stair’s House. The house, built in the 17th century, is compact and beautiful, with narrow stairs and small rooms, showcasing three Scottish writers: Robert Louis Stevenson, Sir Walter Scott, and Robert Burns. Click the links above for more information on each writer. The museum was filled with artifacts, books, and information–very interesting for this writer!

Soon it was time to find the meeting place for our Underground Vaults tour at 4:30, a repurposed old telephone booth opposite the street from Deacon Brodie’s Tavern where we would have dinner later. We found the telephone booth which was covered with signs and brochures for various tours of the city and country, and people began to gather. Then our tour guide appeared and introduced himself as Jordan, trilling the “r” and telling us we could just say Jordan without the trill. With his sense of humor, he turned out to be quite entertaining.

Jordan led us down the Royal Mile, stopping in front of the Old Tolbooth, which was a medieval prison in the center of the city used for torture and public executions. He told of some chilling torture methods, such as nailing men’s tongues to the door whenever they spoke God’s name or vain or spoke ill of the king, or anything deemed to be unlawful such as cursing. He also told us that boys were considered men at the age of eight, and if they broke the law, their ears would be nailed to the door. The only way to escape was when the prison guard cut the tongue or ear off, or the offender ripped himself away from the door. This resulted in many forked tongues and deformed ears, as you can imagine. They would also hang body parts or heads around the jail’s exterior as a warning to the citizens. Hard to imagine!

Down he led us almost to the low end of the Royal Mile, and then he brought us to the entrance of the Underground Vaults, a door about two feet off the ground that we had a little difficulty stepping up into. That should have been my first clue, but I continued on the tour. I can’t describe how it felt to be inside those vaults under the streets of Edinburgh, under the South Bridge, constructed in the Middle Ages! All stone, damp, dark–pitch black except for Jordan’s flashlight. Now that I think about it, I wonder if he had a spare in case his stopped working? That’s a scary thought!

I should have used my phone flashlight because Jordan stayed out in the passage waiting for everyone while ushering us inside the next room, which was pitch black. The first few people–there were about 16 of us–headed right to line up against that wall, and I turned left to start a new line. There was the faint light of a single candle glowing in the corner but it didn’t help much if at all. What I could not see was the big cement block which sat on the floor in my way as I moved toward the wall. I fell over it, my full weight landing on both knees on the dirty stone floor. Such pain I hadn’t experienced in a long while. Remember, I had already injured my left knee at Eilean Donan Castle!

I rolled around on my bottom, my arms around my knees, groaning and moaning while Trisha and another lady whose face I couldn’t see, tended to me. The lady asked if I could bend my knees, which I could, thank the Lord, and then if I could stand. Both women helped me to my feet while Jordan said he was going to get me a chair, but then realized there weren’t any. In that moment, I really didn’t appreciate his humor. The intense pain gave way to a sort of numbness, and I was able to continue the tour. I thought surely my new joggers were torn, or there was blood, but surprisingly that didn’t happen. I tried to forget the throbbing pain and pay attention to the rest of the tour, which I actually accomplished, though I don’t know how.

We were told how the vaults were used at first for storage, but soon became a place for criminals, homeless, derelict, and insane people, and were kept so dark that one couldn’t tell if someone was about to attack them. They were cold and damp, and cholera and other diseases were rampant, along with rats. When people above ground threw their waste (including human waste) out the windows of the buildings, the liquid seeped through the streets into the vaults. Plus, there were four stories of vaults, so one floor’s liquid seeped into the vault under it. With no sewer system, the city streets became so nasty that many citizens left.

Jordan also showed us a room where local Wiccans gathered in meetings, and it was still set up exactly as they left it. We could view it through a window in the wall. The group fled the room when they felt an evil spirit among them. Very creepy. There was another room Jordan brought us into that had a stone circle in the middle that he said some used to bring an evil spirit into the room. That was so creepy one of the ladies in our group remained in the hallway with her male companion. No way would I be alone in there!

Soon the tour ended, and Trisha led my hobbling self back up the Royal Mile to Deacon Brodie’s Tavern, where we would dine. Stay tuned for fish pie, a crazy Englishwoman, jugglers, and photos of my injuries. (Bet you can’t wait, LOL)

Haste ye back!

XOXO