After a night of unrest in a backpacking hostel-- as soon as I entered the coed toilet to spy a skinny, shirtless, bald man shaving, I realized I was in trouble-- I began the morning on my one day in Scotland at Holyrood House. The tour was done in the style of Buckingham Palace-- which is to say, the tour was done in a Queenly fashion.
Again, no one in kilts. But everyone was in tartan.
Holyrood is the Queen's house in Scotland. So there were triumphal bagpipes on an audio recording of a pleasant British woman speaking ( I liked the volunteer Scotsman with his roaring burr at Stirling much better).
