Dr. Bronner's magical disappearing soap

I woke up lazily at around 9am or so. Today would be my day to get a new camp towel (the old one had holes and was starting to smell bad), some new soap, and deodorant. They aren't big into any types of scented soaps I found out. At least not for men.The closest I could find was one that smelled like coal tar.
Seriously? I wasn't bad but it stank like a mining operation. Screw that. I went into some foo foo place and got a grapefruit something or other. The camp towel was tougher as a lot of places didn't have ones with hooks on them to hang on hangers that they have in hostel showers. I ate at a spot down by Rose Street (an outdoor shopping section) only to find an AWESOME outdoor street fair place with great food. I should have taken some pics, if its there to day I will.

I ventured then to The Mound, the central Scottish National Gallery to look at Renaissance still lifes and painting. I like that period of art and some of the Impressionist work. It was an unassuming gallery mostly underground so as not to interrupt the flow of the greens in the middle of town dividing old and new town. From there I found out that they were having an exhibition on Witches and Wicked Bodies at the modern art galleries.

I figured it wouldn't be that far away.
Yah, right.

It was on Queenferry Road which is a long road that went by a residential area, over a bridge, and past a huge very wealthy private school. It was also not really marked and even the locals I asked were unsure as to where it was. I have no idea how they mark the streets in Edinburgh, but its worse than Portland.

The 15 minute walk took roughly about 45 minutes but I eventually found the museum. The witches exhibit was fascinating in just how fucked up we used to treat unmarried women as there were no real mention in print, painting, or book of men being witches. Very good pieces from Goya and Blake though.

The rest of the museum was modern art, which I find very little of ot worthy of note. The only one I really liked was a room that was simply a large sheet of pantyhose across the ceiling, with columns of hose held to the floor by mounds of different spices.


Last night I got two new hostelmates. I was a tad bummed as at first it seemed I would have the room to myself. Weee!
But alas, twas not to be. A gentleman transferring from a law school in Amsterdam to Scotland that was looking for a temp pad for a couple days while things got straightened out named Daniel. And a guy from Morroco, now living in France, named Ameil. They seemed decent sort, not party animals (the bane of hosteling) and desiring to spend as little time as possible in the hostel.