Night Lights
Class lets out early. Why not go to Edinburgh for the afternoon?
The Stirling International Society makes a trip to the Edinburgh Christmas Market, and I don’t know another time I’ll get to visit the festival, especially with a group of people. Wednesday is my last Digital Journalism class, and this is the perfect way to celebrate. I finish my work, return to my room, and bundle up for the cold evening.
I arrive at the train station, but there’s no one standing with a sign or official Stirling poster, as usual. A second-year student approaches as I study the train departure times. “Are you with the International Society?” he asks. I shrug and see the girl standing next to him.
“This is the meeting point, right?”
He says yes, that we’re waiting for a few others before buying discounted tickets. The only other girl who shows up is one of my friends from America, so with minutes to spare, we buy the tickets. As we look for Platform Three, a train pulls on the opposite side of the station. “Is that our ride?” the other girl, a fourth-year, asks. We grow silent. Sprint up the wide staircase. I run around to the platform, look behind, and hop on the train seconds after the doors open. We are lucky to find four warm seats with a table.
The sun sets as the train plows across the countryside. Keeping conversation with the strangers takes effort; I can’t recall a train ride in Scotland that feels so long. I learn the international officer is a student from Italy, and the other girl is from Denmark. Here’s to a Scottish Christmas market without any Scottish friends.
My eyes tug to the window. I see the Sir Walter Scott monument, glowing with a gold light. A Flash of St. Giles’ steeple. A bold, illuminated court building. This city is brilliant in the sun, but elegant in the dark.
Cold air seeps through my bones, and I pull a fuzzy hat around my ears and gloves across my fingers. The Christmas spirit swirls in the breeze. I’m not exhausted; I want to run out of the station and cross the large square and ride the rainbow Ferris Wheel.
We enter the market casually. First we pass the carnival — a smorgasbord of seizure-inducing lights and rickety seats and programmed melodies. The child inside screams with joy, but the recently turned 21-year-old knows better. I’m here to buy presents. Feel the music. Smell the winter frost.
Small wooden booths display much of what I saw in Perth, only at a vast scale. Wool and cashmere fabrics, German bier and bratwurst, steamy mulled wine and handcrafted wood figurines. The booths light a star-studded trail down the park side. Sloping down behind them is another row, down to the space under the city bridge reserved for “Santaland”.
The larger the booths get, the louder the holiday music. Something about the vintage American songs sparks a deep comfort; I slow down, look at my surroundings, think about how many years I’ve listened to this music and wished I could visit a market just like this one.
From white chocolate fountains to homemade fudge to powder-laden churros, the scent of sizzling sugar seeps through warm ovens. Handcrafted ornaments, complex puzzle boxes, glimmering jewelry, and colorful ceramics pop from the vendors. Most tempting is a Scottish chess set, complete with polished wooden boards.
After grabbing a mulled wine and cider, the Italian student leads the four of us to the “Santaland” section. I’m not enthralled, but there are fantastic shots of the market, so I stop and take plenty of pictures.
We cross the bridge and enter old town. In the dark, we are all unsure of our exact location, but we know the Edinburgh Castle is to our left. The Italian student finds a staircase, and I tell the group I know exactly where it leads. I do; I took this steep, never-ending “close” to the Royal Mile during my solo tour of the city.
The staircase puts us right near the middle of the Royal Mile. Anxious to see the castle, we head straight through the street. I’m shocked that the entire town — from the Whiskey Experience to cathedrals to businesses — are lit in green and red and purple projections. The delightful scenery makes the hike feel easy.
I’ve never been inside Edinburgh Castle, but tonight, the exterior is enough of a spectacle. The hill site is windy, crisp, and enlivening. Leafless trees reveal the shiny city, and I gaze at wonderful landmarks I’ve both visited and seen only in pictures. We stand at the stone barrier, step toward the fortified castle, and wander the eerily vacant premise.
Fudge. My Italian friend wants fudge. He leads us down to the opposite end of the Royal Mile, only to discover his beloved fudge shop is closed. So he settles for a hot drink. We pass several bars and restaurants, until finally, at my request, we step inside a Cafe Nero. The coffee chain is instantly warming. After half an hour sipping drinks and talking, we look up the train times and decide to head home.
On the way, we stroll up a beautiful curved street. I’ve never been to this section of the old town. Christmas lights hang from business to business, local shops display ornaments, and vibrant paint clothes the buildings. It’s magical.
The warm train hustles back to Stirling. Earbuds full of music, I don’t fight sleep this time. I’m more content than I’ve been all week. While my friends doze off and check their social media, I scroll through photographs of the evening. The dark images might not be the highest quality, but they do capture the fantastic spectacle of the Edinburgh night lights.
