One direct train, four hours, and a snack cart every ten minutes. The only real challenge: whether you can eat everything they offer.
Snacks before the train
The taxi the hotel booked turned up too small for four of us plus bags, and minus the car seat we'd asked for. The hotel pulled a spare seat out of nowhere; we wedged ourselves in. The drive to King's Cross took over an hour — but it was one taxi, end to end, and that's a small miracle with two kids and a stroller.
The LNER first-class lounge was nicer than expected: tea, juice, crisps, ginger biscuits. None of us had eaten a proper breakfast, so the kids made it their job to fix that.
Four hours, kids contained
Every ten minutes, someone walked the aisle with cold drinks, hot drinks, snacks, or a meal. Eventually I started turning them away. The kids were on iPads. Layla, a snack pile. Noah, an unbroken stream of videos. At every stop, Noah was pleased we hadn't arrived yet — he liked it here, in the seat, with the snacks and the screen.
The taxi line, run on swords
Edinburgh Waverley greeted us with car horns, a long line for the elevators, and a hundred-yard walk to the taxi rank. At the rank, the line was facing the wrong way. One Scottish woman calmly walked the queue, turning everyone around: "the front of the line is here, because cars drive on the left, because you hold your sword in your right hand!"
We grabbed a taxi and rode to the Kimpton.
We can't give you adjoining rooms — but here's a suite
We'd asked for two adjoining rooms. They didn't have any. Then they gave us an upgrade ... a big one. The suite had egregiously tall ceilings, a hallway with multiple wardrobes, a soaking-tub bathroom, a full living room and a separate dining room, a private foyer, and multiple mini-fridges they kept reminding us we were welcome to empty.
They gave us two rollaway beds. We pushed the rollaways together with the two couches and built a single mega-bed in the middle of the living room. The kids lost their minds — bouncing, rolling, claiming territory. 3 separate people called to make sure we were satisfied with our arrangements.
One quirk worth knowing: the Kimpton Charlotte Square is seven interconnected Georgian townhomes plus a separate Building No. 33, all stitched together behind one shared facade. Which is why getting from the lobby to our suite meant a small expedition every time — corridors, doors, short flights of stairs, the occasional turn that didn't seem to add up.
Fish and chips, with the kids
Jess wasn't feeling well. I took the kids down Rose Street for some takeaway from Chipsy King — fish and chips with curry sauce, a pepperoni pizza for Layla, a burger for Noah, a doner wrap for Jess. The kids and I were enthusiastic. Jess took one bite of her wrap and put it down.
A bell, a graveyard, the castle on the hill
Once the kids were down, I went out to find diapers and meds and face wipes for Jess. I came back with face wipes and nothing else. But on the way I'd been pulled toward Princes Street Gardens by a church bell that sounded like it was being rung by a six-year-old who'd been given the rope and told to go wild — every note, fast, no apparent regard for tempo. I followed it.
It led to a small church, and then to a cemetery beside it, and the cemetery turned out to have one of the better views of Edinburgh Castle on the rock above. I had it almost to myself. A security guard came through eventually and walked everyone out — I was excited to explore more tomorrow.
Train down, kids in a mega-bed, castle on the hill. Edinburgh tomorrow.
— Day one in Scotland, fin.