If you're ticking off Edinburgh landmarks, Holyroodhouse is one you can't skip-not unless you're on the run from the crown... Sitting at the royal end of the Royal Mile, this stately pad is the official Scottish residence of the British monarch and once housed none other than Mary, Queen of Scots. That’s right, drama lives here rent-free...

The whole saga begins with King David I, who founded the nearby Holyrood Abbey in 1128 (after a divine deer encounter, according to legend). A few centuries later, precisely by 1501, a palace was built beside the abbey. Now, calling it a “palace”, back then, was maybe a touch ambitious-a grand country house, more like it, rather than Versailles-but it did get bigger in 1532 and 1536. The property was thoroughly renovated in 1633, only to be trashed when Cromwell’s soldiers used it as barracks and then a fire added insult to injury...

Then came the 1670s, when Sir William Bruce, the architectural fixer of the day, rebuilt the place. The abbey chapel became the Chapel Royal, hosting pious activity until 1768, when the roof rather unceremoniously fell in. More restorations followed after that-first in 1822 for a royal visit, and then again in the 20th century when King George V and Queen Mary decided the palace could really use indoor plumbing. Royal flush, anyone?

When the royals are away, the house is open to the public. Inside, you can marvel at ceiling stucco so delicate it practically whispers, and gawk at an entire lineup of Scottish monarchs-some real, some as fictional as their hairlines-painted by the Dutch Golden Age artist Jacob de Wet. Then, dive into the Royal Collection, a five-century mix of armor, jewels, manuscripts, and silverware. Basically, it’s the attic of your dreams-if your attic had Rembrandts and 17th-century clocks.

Oh, and don’t wander off alone unless you're cool with ghosts. Legend has it that Agnes Sampson, accused of witchcraft and executed in 1592, still makes the occasional appearance here. So, if you feel a chill or hear something whispering about herbal remedies... maybe don’t investigate.

Palace, ghosts, ceilings, swords, and sovereign bling-are all here. Holyroodhouse doesn’t just bring the royal drama-it curates it.

The University of Edinburgh was the fourth university to be established in Scotland and is one of the most important places of learning in the world.

It was originally founded by Royal Charter in 1583 after Bishop Robert Reid left funds for its building in his will. The construction was also funded by the Town Council, making it one of the 1st civic universities to be built.

The first building was designed by Robert Adam and is now called Old College. It was dedicated to anatomy and the budding science of surgery. It had an underground passage from the lecture hall to the anatomy room and Burke and Hare weren’t the first to smuggle bodies there. Today Old College is a prestigious law school.

By the 19th century, Old College was bursting at the seams and in 1845 Robert Rowand Anderson was commissioned to build a new medical school by expanding a Free Church building on the Mound donated by the newly established Free Church of Scotland. The Mc Ewan Hall was added in 1889. The New College as it was called merged with the Faculty of Divinity in 1935.

In 2002 the different faculties were rearranged into three colleges besides Divinity: The College of Science and Engineering, the College of Humanities and Social Sciences and the College of Medicine and Veterinary Medicine. The university owns several other buildings in the city. Both Charles Darwin and Alexander Graham Bell studied at the University of Edinburgh.

Edinburgh makes things easy for history buffs: just follow the soot-streaked stones of the Old Town and you’ll trip over ancient buildings in no time. One such relic is Greyfriars Church-an architectural overachiever that’s been around since the early 1600s and still manages to steal the show.

Work on the church began in 1602, and by 1630, it was officially consecrated, rising from the ruins of an abandoned Franciscan monastery and becoming one of the oldest buildings in the Old Town. Its name is a fashion nod to the original residents-monks in grey robes, otherwise known as the “Grey Friars.” Simple branding, eternal legacy...

In 1718, someone got the bright idea to divide the church with a wall-Old Greyfriars on one side, New Greyfriars on the other-because heaven forbid the Covenanters and Roman Catholics share pew space. Then, in 1845, the roof caught fire (presumably not from divine wrath), destroying much of the interior.

When the church was restored in the mid-19th century, they added stained-glass windows. Beautiful they were? Yes. Controversial? Also, yes-for it was the first time that such windows appeared in a Presbyterian church, and it caused a bit of a scandal. A little later, an organ was added, and once again the purists “clutched their pearls.” In 1929, they finally took down the dividing wall and made peace… at least architecturally.

Oh, and the adjoining graveyard-it's said to be haunted by the ghost of one “Bloody” George Mackenzie. A Lord Advocate responsible for the persecution of the Covenanters, his reputation is as bruised as his victims. They say that if he touches you, you’ll feel it-physically!-left with cuts and bruises... Sleep tight!

Still, nowadays, Greyfriars also doubles as an event venue and low-key fashion runway. It hosts exhibitions, lectures, and drama productions-all performed under those once-scandalous stained glass windows. The onsite museum showcases artifacts found in the area and recounts a comprehensive history of the Covenanters.

And for the wizarding crowd-just behind the Elephant House Café lies Greyfriars Kirkyard, where literary pilgrims flock to pay homage to tombstones that may-or may not-have inspired J.K. Rowling. Among those are Thomas Riddell (ring a bell, Voldemort fans?), Robert Potter, William McGonagall, and even names like Elizabeth Moodie and Margaret Louisa Scrymgeour Wedderburn, suspiciously close to Mad-Eye Moody and Rufus Scrimgeour (the Minister of Magic in the final Harry Potter book). As of August 2019, you can buy a handy Harry Potter-themed gravestone map; the proceeds from sales go toward graveyard upkeep-and probably a bit of Muggle curiosity management, too.

Also, visible from here is George Heriots School, reportedly the template for fictional Hogwarts...

If you’ve ever wanted to sip a cappuccino where magic once brewed-quite literally-then The Elephant House might just be your pilgrimage stop. Open since 1995, this unassuming café earned worldwide fame not just for its tea and coffee (which are excellent, by the way), but for serving as a launchpad for a certain bespectacled boy wizard. Yes, J.K. Rowling once holed up in the back room here, penning early chapters of Harry Potter while eyeing up the brooding silhouette of Edinburgh Castle. Talk about dramatic inspiration...

But Rowling wasn’t the only literary mind to haunt these elephant-adorned halls. Other patrons like Ian Rankin, the mastermind behind the gritty Rebus detective novels, and Alexander McCall Smith, author of The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency and 44 Scotland Street fame, have also warmed the seats here. Apparently, there’s something about the mix of caffeine, castle views, and atmospheric chatter that gets the creative juices flowing.

So, whether you’re nursing dreams of becoming the next literary sensation or just need a sturdy espresso before wandering into Edinburgh’s medieval maze-drop by The Elephant House. Who knows? That scribble on your napkin might just be the next bestseller...

If ghost stories give you chills in a good way, then Real Mary King’s Close might just be your perfect haunt in Edinburgh. Tucked beneath the Royal Exchange, this underground maze of shadowy alleyways and crumbling tenement rooms has a reputation for being one of the most haunted corners of the city-and in Edinburgh, that’s saying something...

Originally a bustling neighborhood, the close was sealed off after the Great Plague of 1645 rolled into town, carried by flea-infested rats from merchant ships. With zero plumbing and not a bar of soap in sight, these cramped quarters became ground zero for infection. In a desperate attempt to contain the spread, entire blocks-predominantly the poorer areas, including Mary King’s Close-were bricked in as urgent quarantine measures. Legend has it, some unlucky souls were trapped inside at the mercy of plague or starvation... and they never left. At least, not in spirit.

One ghost in particular likes to make her presence known: Annie, a small girl, who is said to have lost her doll-and possibly much more-when the plague swept through. Visitors claim to feel her presence, and many bring her gifts: toys, trinkets, or coins, all of which are passed on to children’s hospitals and local charities. So, even the ghostly get a little goodwill...

The area was uncovered during renovations to the Royal Exchange and was opened to the public in 2003 as a tourist attraction. Since then, costumed guides have been leading brave guests through these 17th-century underground time capsules, sharing tales of the little Annie and Mary King-a respected businesswoman and seamstress after whom it is named-as well as the dark chapters etched into every cobbled corner.

So, if you’re in the mood for a little historical horror with a charitable twist, Mary King’s Close is calling. Just... don’t forget Annie’s doll.

Smack in the middle of the Royal Mile, St Giles’ Cathedral-otherwise known as the High Kirk (or High Church) of Edinburgh-isn't one to be missed. The original building went up in the 12th century but didn’t survive a nasty fire-only the central pillars lived to tell the tale. The replacement was built in 1385. Over the years, it had numerous chapels added-known as aisles-resulting in a kind of charming architectural chaos. At one point, the church had over 50 side altars, like a medieval supermarket of holiness...

In 1466, St Giles’ became a collegiate church, which, in 1490, saw the now-iconic, crown-shaped lantern tower completed. During the Reformation, in 1560, things got a bit dramatic. Most of the church’s treasures vanished-stolen, sold, or just spirited away-including its star relic: Saint Giles’ withered arm and hand, complete with a diamond ring on one skeletal finger (macabre bling at its finest...). In addition to that, the church was partitioned by walls into multiple preaching zones-a kind of Protestant “feng shui,” if you will...

Despite being called a cathedral, it only technically wore that title twice, briefly, during the 17th-century Bishop Wars. The statute of “High Kirk” remains its real claim to fame. A 19th-century restoration gave the church a glow-up-partitions were removed and several chapels pulled down. Among the surviving chapels, perhaps the most beautiful is the Thistle Chapel from 1911: a jaw-dropping High Gothic gem dripping in wood and stone carvings, fluttering heraldic banners, and a breathtaking, delicately carved vaulted ceiling.

Once here, look out for a bronze plaque to Robert Louis Stevenson, author of Treasure Island, in the Moray Aisle, a marble tribute to the dashing but doomed 1st Marquis of Montrose, in the Chapman Aisle, and another to his bitter rival, Archibald Campbell, the 1st Marquis of Argyll, in the Saint Eloi Aisle. Fun fact: these two, once the main signatories of the National Covenant in 1638 (the document signed to oppose attempts to impose Anglican religious practices on the Church of Scotland), became sworn enemies towards the end of their lives. Edinburgh drama, anyone?

Aside from all that, the place is absolutely gorgeous, packed to the rim with stained glass beauty. You’ll walk out with neck cramp from all the ceiling admiration-and it’ll be worth it.

Pro tips:
Entry is free or by donation, but if you’re planning a photo shoot, prepare to fork over £2 for a "permit".
Best to get onto a tour, as there's much you could miss just wandering on your own. Also, if you're feeling adventurous, take the rooftop tour (worth £6).
And yes-don't miss a cozy café downstairs that serves tasty bites. Praise be!

Perhaps the most photographed location in all of Edinburgh, Victoria Street-with its gentle curve, candy-coloured shopfronts, and fairytale charm-is the Old Town icon that throughout the decades has graced everything from tourist postcards to glossy TV ads. Indeed, if streets had agents, this one would have been booked solid.

Built between 1829 and 1834, Victoria Street wasn’t always the whimsical rainbow we know today, though. Credit-or creative blame for it, rather-goes to Thomas Hamilton, a mastermind behind Edinburgh’s numerous architectural wonders, better known for his love affair with all things neoclassical. On this occasion, however, he deviated from his habitual neoclassical stamp, being told to create something mimicking the Old Flemish style. For this purpose, many of the area's old buildings were torn down. The result of such a dramatic medieval makeover was the appearance of arches, lining the new terrace, which now house some of the city’s most charming little shops.

And then came the magic. In recent years, Victoria Street-along with its downhill cousin, the West Bow-has gained notoriety as possible real-world prototypes for none other than Diagon Alley, featured in the Harry Potter books (you know, wizards, magic wands, and all that...).

Given that Edinburgh was home turf for JK Rowling while she penned her famous boy-wizard saga, it’s not a stretch to imagine Victoria Street as an inspiration for the ever-so fabulous wizard market after all. Packed with the cobbled stones, higgledy-piggledy medley of vibrant buildings, quirky boutiques, and a general air of eccentricity, it practically shouts Diagon Alley. So, whether you're here for the architecture, the shopping, or the spellcasting vibes, just know-this street has layers, arches, and more than a dash of enchantment...

Back in 1835, an entrepreneurial firecracker named Maria Theresa Short decided that Edinburgh needed more science and spectacle. So, she launched what would become the Camera Obscura & World of Illusions, a place where city views met mind-bending visuals long before Instagram filters were a thing.

Short's first venture, called “Short’s Popular Observatory,” was a quirky little spot built from wood, stone, and pure determination up on Calton Hill, near the National Monument. Sadly, the authorities weren’t fans-so, in 1851, they dismantled it. Undeterred, Short relocated to Castlehill, bought the townhouse of the Laird of Cockpen (indeed, this was his name), and stacked two extra floors on top. By 1853, she had rebranded the place as Short’s Observatory, Museum of Science and Art-a title almost as long as the staircase...

In 1892, the venue came under the management of Patrick Geddes, a forward-thinking Scottish urban planner, sociologist, and ecologist, who gave the building a brainy makeover. He renamed it the Outlook Tower and transformed it into a museum and urban study center. In essence, Geddes filled it with a clever vertical geography lesson: the world at the bottom, Europe and English-speaking countries in the middle, and Edinburgh at the top. Crowning it all, in the topmost room, was a Camera Obscura-because, even in the Victorian era, they already wanted something similar to Google Earth!

The museum ceased operations following Geddes' passing in 1932. In 1966, the University of Edinburgh acquired the site with the intention of establishing the Patrick Geddes Centre and archive. However, in 1982, the building changed ownership to private hands, with a one-room tribute to Geddes remaining on the fourth floor. But that's when the real magic was just getting started.

Today, this tower is Edinburgh’s oldest visitor attraction and still the most delightfully dizzying. It features more than 100 interactive exhibits spread across six floors of illusions, holograms, mirror mazes, vortex tunnels, and hands-on wonders. The rooftop terrace is a camera-ready dream with telescopes and skyline views. The original top-floor Camera Obscura is a 19th-century tech marvel that still gives a live, real-time tour of the city below. It's equally educational, entertaining, and just a little surreal-the kind of place where science meets showbiz and your eyeballs never quite know what hit them.

So, what is the difference between “whisky” and “whiskey”? If that little “e” is driving you to drink, head straight to The Scotch Whisky Experience, where answers-and drams-await. This is Scotland’s answer to Disneyland, but with fewer cartoon mice and significantly more peat smoke.

Indeed, this interactive museum doesn’t just cater to connoisseurs and curious adults. Even the wee (the Scottish word for “little” ones) get a slice of the fun, thanks to “Peat the Cat”-their feline guide through a world of whisky facts and playful games. Meanwhile, the grown-ups hop aboard a moving barrel (yes, you heard that right) for a slow cruise through a mechanical distillery, narrated by none other than the ethereal “Whisky Ghost.” He knows his mash from his malt, and he’s not afraid to share-within reason, of course...

Next stop: the MacIntyre Whisky Gallery, where you'll learn how different flavours are crafted. Well, some of the flavours (trade secrets are revealed only partially...). Then it’s on to the Sense of Scotland room, where your nose gets a full workout sniffing everything from smoky campfires to sweet toffee notes-basically a perfume department for whisky fans.

Your grand finale is the tasting room. Here, you’ll find your whisky-yes, even you who swore you didn’t like the stuff. But do yourself a favour: don’t ask for ice or soda. You’ll get looks colder than the Highlands in January.

Before you stumble out, swing by the gift shop. With over 300 malts and miniatures on offer, it’s practically a whisky library. Tour guests even get a discount-because education should come with perks...

So, in case you're still wondering why go?-Here's the answer: Because where else can you ogle 3,400 unopened bottles of whisky worth a fortune, sip your way through centuries of liquid history, and pair it all with cheese and chocolate that’d make a Highlander weep?

Top Tip:
Spring for the “Gold Tour” if you’re in it for the full whisky safari. And if you're not all that keen on whisky but prefer to look, sniff, and learn without the burn-The “Silver Tour” has your name on it. Slàinte!

Edinburgh Castle, looming large over the Scottish capital, is the second most visited attraction in the UK (after the Tower of London, which is still number one). The history of Scotland is deeply etched into its ancient stones, making it a timeline in fortress form.

Perched atop Castle Rock (a hardened basaltic plug from an extinct volcano eroded by glaciers), this area has been drawing humans since the 9th millennium BC. The first castle on the site was built in the 12th century by King David I. It remained a royal residence until 1603, when the monarchy packed up and moved to London-presumably for better weather and indoor plumbing...

Indeed, as a fortress, it was virtually impregnable, except for one major-geological-drawback: the basalt rock on which it stands doesn’t hold water (literally). The 28-meter-deep well inside the fortress was about as useful as a chocolate teapot during a siege. So, when the well ran dry, surrender-or dehydration-was the only choice for those inside.

The original castle was mostly destroyed during the Lang Siege of 1573. The only remainder from its early days is St. Margaret’s Chapel. By the 17th century, it had shifted from royal digs to military barracks, housing troops up to the 1920s.

Presently, the castle hosts the Scottish National War Memorial, the National War Museum, and enough regimental museums to keep military buffs busy till closing time. Don't miss the One O’Clock Gun, which is fired daily (except Sundays) at 1 PM with Swiss-watch precision-yes, Edinburgh literally sets its clocks by it...

Also, in the Crown Room, you will see Scotland’s royal bling-crown, scepter, and sword-resting under heavy guard. Period-costumed actors occasionally swoop in to re-enact history with full flair. And if you’re visiting in August, the Military Tattoo takes over the esplanade with kilts, cannons, and bagpipes galore.

Oh, and in the north-east corner of the esplanade, don't miss that rather unassuming little iron fountain. Called Witches' Well, it marks the spot where, back in the day, many women accused of witchcraft were burned at the stake. Spooky, grim, and sadly true...

The panoramic views are postcard-worthy, the historical nooks are endlessly fascinating, and honestly, it just feels epic to stand where centuries of royals, rebels, and rock-solid drama unfolded.

Pro Tips:
The entry is cheaper, and more importantly, faster, if you book online.
Take a free guided tour – running every hour. Otherwise, consider grabbing the £3 audio guide if you like facts with flair.
Being at the mountain's top, it may get breezy, so definitely bring a windproof jacket if visiting in cold weather.

Dean Village, once a deep valley near Edinburgh's city center, thrived for over 800 years as a grain milling hub. It boasted up to eleven mills powered by the Water of Leith. This area was initially mentioned in a 1145 charter by King David I of Scotland, who granted a mill here to Holyrood Abbey.

Remaining distinct until the 1800s, Dean Village changed hands in 1826 when John Learmonth, future Edinburgh Lord Provost, bought it. The Dean Bridge, crucial for crossing the valley, was built in 1831-33 without a toll, as insisted by the Cramond Road Trustees and designed by Thomas Telford. This four-arch bridge, over 400 feet wide and 106 feet above the water, significantly improved access from the city.

In 1847, Dean House was demolished to create Dean Cemetery. This mansion, central to the Dean Estate since 1609, left its mark through sculptured stones in the cemetery's southern wall and ceiling panels in Scotland's National Museum. The cemetery is notable for housing prominent figures like Sir Thomas Bouch.

With the emergence of larger mills in Leith, Dean Village's prosperity declined, leading to decay and poverty until the 1960s. However, since the mid-1970s, it has been revitalized into a peaceful area near the city center, with renovated residential spaces and the Water of Leith Walkway established in 1983.

Dean Bridge also appears in Ian Rankin's "Strip Jack" and Peter May's "The Lewis Man," highlighting its cultural significance.