Edinburgh {Embra}: Home and the Heartland

A brief explanation about what I was doing in the United Kingdom:

Hiking. Over hills and mountains, through bogs and woods, along the coasts, and everywhere in between. For two glorious months I studied literature and travel writing in Scotland, England, and Wales. Just me, twenty peers, two professors, and six children. 

Onward and upwards. 

There is one thing you should know about Edinburgh: It is a city built purely on crazy. By crazy people, for crazy people. And I love it. There were very few cities that we visited along our journey that I felt I could have lived in and been perfectly content. For some inexplicable reason, Edinburgh was one of those cities. There is absolutely no rhyme or reason as to how the city is mapped out. Buildings and streets exist wherever there seemed to be room. Also I am not certain if there are any definite traffic laws; drivers survive by series of honks and waves, and pedestrians walk wherever they want to as long as there is no oncoming traffic {some of the time}.

It is impossible to explain how out of my element I felt, and yet how comfortable I was in that city. Not once did I experience fear {except on the ghost tour of the vaults}, danger, or anxiety of any kind; in Edinburgh I was perfectly happy.

For some reason, I have always chosen Scotland and England as my token nations of true heritage--my apologies to my German and Swedish ancestors--so to be there breathing Scottish air, hearing Scottish accents, and walking Scottish streets was a dream come true. I imagine that I am among a small number {if not the only one} of my distant relatives to return to Scotland since my ancestors emigrated to America after joining the Church. I belonged in Edinburgh. It was my sort of crazy, and the people were my sort of crazy.

The official motto of the Scottish regiments is nemo me impune lacessit, meaning "no one attacks me with impunity". Everyone I met had this same crazy spirit; cheeky and fun, but quick-tempered. I recognized this same tune in myself: generally easy-going but with a terrible temper. These were my people. The blood in my veins was similar to theirs, and I could sense it.

On our first day touring the city as a group, we hiked Arthur's Seat {an impressive hill on the edge of the city} and discussed Scottish military history and what this hill meant to them as a fortress. Then our talk turned to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and how Orson Hyde came to Arthur's Seat and dedicated Scotland for the preaching of the Gospel. Maybe it wasn't in Edinburgh that some of my ancestors were converted to the Gospel, but that is where it started. They joined the Church and left their Highland Home never to return. I got to be the one to return, and it still was home.

Edinburgh, Scotland was my first taste of home.

-KB

Edinburgh Castle