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.

Amid the cobbles and curves of Edinburgh's Victoria Street, one shop practically hums with wizard energy. Welcome to Museum Context!-or as the locals still like to whisper, Diagon House. Twinned with its sister spot at No.44 Cockburn Street, it is a true flagship store of magical mayhem. Together, these two stores proudly embrace Edinburgh’s reputation as the cradle of Harry Potter’s creation. Surely, J.K. Rowling may have written in cafés, but it is here that her legacy gets bottled, shelved, and sold-no Time-Turner required.

The idea of this venue sprang from Alice and Andrew McRae-the latter being a conservation architect, who apparently thought Edinburgh’s historic stone walls deserved a bit of wand-waving retail flair. Inside, it may appear a bit “scary” to the claustrophobic lot who may get twitchy in tight spaces. Think of it as the closest thing you’ll find to Diagon Alley itself: packed shelves, narrow aisles, and a steady stream of would-be wizards elbowing their way past, just as Harry once did, dodging sniggering Slytherins to buy his school supplies...

From wands to house scarves, every inch here is loaded with officially licensed Harry Potter merchandise, and the faithful treat it like a pilgrimage site. Don’t be surprised to see queues wrapping around the street from the crack of dawn-yes, people actually line up to shop. Inside, the atmosphere is equal parts Hogwarts common room and retail wonderland, and no, you won’t find any Muggle discount racks here.

After two decades of spellbinding crowds, the shop marked its 20th birthday with a little reinvention of its own. Now flying the banner of “Museum Context,” it celebrates not just Harry’s world but also an eclectic mix of Scottish curiosities. But make no mistake: for Potter fans, this is still the beating heart of Edinburgh’s magical shopping scene-part museum, part marketplace, and part sheer fandom frenzy.

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...

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!

If you're meandering down the Royal Mile and wondering where to get your history fix with a side of scandal, the Museum of Edinburgh is your spot. Housed in the delightfully crooked 16th-century Huntly House-once the home of the city’s hammer-wielding Guild of Hammermen-this place is Edinburgh’s memory palace, packed with everything from Roman relics to rogue biographies.

Inside, you’ll find numerous silverware that practically glows with civic pride, glassware engraved just down the road in Canongate, some pottery that’s almost too pretty to have survived Scottish winters, and a Sedan chair that reminds us how people once got carried away-literally. There are also clocks so stately they make your smartwatch feel wildly inadequate. And don’t miss the costume corner, where you're invited to play dress-up through the ages. Georgian elegance? Victorian gloom? Just pick your century.

Among the many treasures, you’ll stumble across fragments from a 1st-century Roman settlement dug up in Cramond-yes, the Romans beat the tourists to this small village north-west of Edinburgh by about 2,000 years. You’ll also lay eyes on the original National Covenant (that’s serious ink), James Craig’s neatly sketched vision for the New Town, and even Greyfriars Bobby’s food bowl and collar-proof that loyalty earns you legend status in this city.

There is also a “rogues’ gallery” of sorts, where Edinburgh’s darker side grins back at you. Meet Deacon Brodie, respectable tradesman by day, burglar by night-basically Jekyll and Hyde, with better tailoring. And don’t forget Burke and Hare, the notorious body snatchers who supplied fresh corpses to Dr. Knox of the Medicine University, no questions asked...

So, yes, the Museum of Edinburgh has all the drama, dignity, and delightful weirdness this city’s history has to offer-and then some...

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.