Holyrood Palace

Was nothing like I expect a Royal Palace to be. It is very beautiful from the outside, dark stone, turrets and sloping roofs, and a fascinating fountain adorned with figures of tradesman and animals standing in front of the gates, dripping with rain. Inside, however, the palace felt unassuming and small, and not in a positive, homely kind of way, but rather in a dusty, neglected way. The ceiling were low, there was little, light, and the place felt more uninhabited than palaces that have actually stood empty for hundreds of years. It was devoid of signs of real life, care, any personal touch... I can only assume that the toursits are only allowed to see the dullest part of the pallace; otherwise, I feel pretty sorry for HM Elizabeth when she comes to visit.

There was a touching collection of the Royal Family photographs though and oh, I am such a royalist. I hope she lives forever! One portrait of her did however remind me of a young woman I used to work with, who was in some obscure way related to the royal family; there certainly was something Germanic about her swinging arms and very loud toothy laugh. Conversations with her used to puzzle and interest me in a weird sort of way; it was like standing outside and looking through a window into a room full of people, looking onto a coctail party, and seeing all the bodily politics and manouvers, and seeing the smiles and polite nods, and deciphering the politics of power, and then walking away with a sense of relief and wonder.

The Edinburgh Castle, which would look more appropraite as a Royal residence.