September – October, 2017
The answer is yes. Climbing to the top of an extinct volcano (Arthur’s Seat, that is), in fact is better than sex.
Although, truthfully, I wouldn’t know since I was abducted by big-headed beings who harvested my reproductive organs and implanted a microchip beneath my flesh before I could ever find out. Savages.
And, frankly, Jo hasn’t had sex in so long, she could double as the Mother Superior at a convent. But she said she’s pretty sure it was easier and quicker to have sex than it was to climb Arthur’s Seat.
FUN FACT: Arthur’s Seat isn’t really a seat. What?! Next you’ll be telling me cats are really dogs!
FUN FACT NUMERO DOS: Celtic legend has it the rock is a sleeping dragon. A dragon that used to fly around, making life a living hell for Air Traffic Control. He would bully people into giving them their gold and would eat handfuls of their livestock like popcorn while watching Game of Thrones. Eventually, it ate so much, one day it laid down, fell asleep, and never woke up…which I’m pretty sure is what happens to hundreds of Americans every Thanksgiving.
* View of the Salisbury Crags, on the way to Arthur’s Seat. I was STOKED to be doing this!
* Me imagining the Salisbury Crags as Salisbury steaks!
* View of Arthur’s Seat. Gee, if his seat was on a volcano, Arthur must have had one. hot. ass!
* This is my “Really, you have to stop to catch your breath again, Jo?” face. Sure, she might have been extra winded because she carried me up the stairs so I wouldn’t pull another back muscle, but come on already!
* View of the Crags. Jo always thought THIS was Arthur’s Seat. I mean, it IS flatter. Makes sense to me.
* Here, Jo was gasping for air and begging me to wait for her.
Like Indiana Jones, Jo has a fear of…well, not snakes. But stairs. Same thing really.
Jo wailed, “Stairs! Why’d it have to be stairs?!” Then she muttered, “Crikey, if I had known I was going to be breathing this hard, well, I’d rather be breathing hard while having sex.”
Now, now, Jo. You don’t really mean that. 😉
The further up we went, the crazier the wind got! At some points, Jo thought the wind would blow me right over the side of the trail. She pictured me as a cartoon dog, letting out the classic Wilhelm scream as I rolled and bounced down the hill. So, at these times, she would scoop me up and tuck me under her arm like she was hoarding a giant burrito. “I’m protecting you, damnit,” she insisted. So annoying, Jo.
And it was cooold. But finally we had made it! Or so Jo thought.
“This isn’t Arthur’s Seat?” a weary, befuddled, spaghetti-legged Jo asked.
Nope. Apparently, this is where King Arthur liked to stand…and bemoan the fact he had to banish his carpenter from the kingdom since he no longer made round tables because he refused to…wait for it…CUT CORNERS. I know you laughed at that. Admit it. Okay, lame joke.
And like the Grim Reaper, a climber pointed one long, bony finger towards the actual “seat o’ Arthur,” which, to Jo, mind as well as have been the peak of Mt. Everest.
There was no trail in some parts, just rocks! “And just how in the hell are you supposed to get up there, Penny?”
Well, you’re going to carry me, Jo. And I snickered to myself as Jo stuffed this dog burrito under her arm once more and clumsily, stubbornly navigated the rocks.
It was just like watching an episode of Mr. Magoo.
* NOW we had made it! And, boy, was it worth the effort!
* Then we moseyed back down to the “valley” portion before tackling the stairs again. Here, I stocked up on some grass. Ya’ know, after expending all that energy while Jo carried me.
* Out of nowhere, an adoring fan insisted on some snuggles, and I had no choice but to acquiesce. Meanwhile, Jo wondered why strangers didn’t want to rub her belly too.
* Enjoying some turtle time with this lovely lady
If you ever take a trip to Edinburgh, this is THE ONE THING you have to make time to do. After all, it’s better than sex. 😉