And after cell phones and a few more pragmatic stops, we perused a free gallery nearby. I think it was the national gallery. Anyway, by this time, our feet were aching and it was getting on dinner time. We wandered back toward the old town--passing many tourist shops--and found a cool pub with a decent deal on fish and chips. After dinner, we took a ghost tour of Edinburgh with an eccentric historian who wore a paisley vest only buttoned at the top to allow room for his belly, a tattered velvet coat with tails, a wild ascot, and a flattened top hat now held together by safety pins. He had an igorian gait about him and kept on ushering us to, “move along, mortals”. We ended the night at a famous pub near the square named, “The Last Drop”: said to be the preferred spot for criminals before their hanging.
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