Castle on the Rock

We visited the Giants exhibit at the National Museum of Scotland — a touring show of enormous animals, extinct and otherwise, built around full-sized padded polygonal sculptures the kids could walk straight up to. Livyatan's open mouth — a prehistoric predatory sperm whale — was tall enough to step into. Gigantopithecus, the largest ape that ever lived, made Layla look doll-sized. Megaloceros — the giant deer — had antlers wider than a car.

The life-sized models looked amazing. The artist renditions of the creatures looked a bit silly. Jess said, "these look like rough drafts of modern animals."

After Giants, Layla had no patience left for the family- focus rooms. So we wandered. The National Museum is one of those open multi-level interiors with sandstone galleries climbing up around you, sculptures on pedestals, light coming in from above. Layla seemed happy to walk through it, look at something for thirty seconds, and walk on. That's a fun thing to watch.

Eventually we found the science-and-tech wing. Noah inflated a hot-air balloon and spent a long time at a screen that asked him to combine animal traits. What if spider silk came from a goat? What if a cabbage had mouse muscle? What if a chicken had scorpion tails? (His verdict: yes, obviously.)

A short walk from the museum: Greyfriars Bobby, a pub named for the Skye Terrier whose owner — John Gray, a night watchman — died in 1858. Bobby reportedly sat at the grave for the next 14 years, until he died in 1872. His statue is on the corner outside, with a nose worn shiny by people rubbing it for luck. (Same emotional shape as Fry's dog from Futurama, if you've seen that episode.)

Inside: I had a meat pie that justified the trip on its own — flaky crust, deeply tender chicken, even the giant soft carrot was good. Jess had her steak. Noah had a cheeseburger. Layla had cheesy gnocchi which she registered the existence of and then ignored, focusing instead on her chips, which she took very seriously.

Layla fell asleep on the way over. Jess looked up at the climb, looked at the stroller, and immediately opened the taxi app. We rode most of the way up, then walked the rest. Then it started raining — not a polite drizzle, proper Edinburgh rain on slick stone, with crowds, with a sleeping toddler now waking up not amused. The kids should have been miserable. They were not.

Noah found the cannons and stayed there. He and Jess held the line against pillagers, raiders, and whatever other invaders were coming for the rock that morning. Layla negotiated her own arrangement: stay reclined in the stroller, get my jacket draped over her legs, take sole custody of the umbrella. Later she shared it with me, which is how I stayed dry the rest of the visit. We also walked through the prisons — close stone walls, crowded with people stopping to read every plaque, no easy way past. The kind of place you remember as "we got through."

On the walk back the rain got worse. We ducked into a Costa for hot chocolate and a few minutes of dry. Then, instead of waiting for a taxi we couldn't quite line up, we just walked — all the way back to the hotel, kids gamely going along with it. We hit the lobby in time for happy hour, sat under the skylight, and watched it pour from the dry side.