Edinburgh Castle at a Glance

With a history spanning over 1000 years, Edinburgh Castle is perhaps the most unavoidable and visually ubiquitous centrepiece of the city. I take a moment from a very quick day trip to Edinburgh to join the thousands of visitors who tick it off their Scottish bucket list each year.

With a history spanning over 1000 years, Edinburgh Castle is perhaps the most unavoidable and visually ubiquitous centrepiece of the city. I take a moment from a very quick day trip to Edinburgh to join the thousands of visitors who tick it off their Scottish bucket list each year.

We tend to think of any historic human development, building or monument as being static - a snapshot of a long time ago, erected suddenly, and subsequently steeped in inevitable history. In reality, most buildings have a varied, if vague sense of when and how they were created. Often they are a product of an architectural evolution, involving construction, destruction, adaptation, salvation and fortitude, guided by the equally chaotic history of human civilisation.

In fact, we could say that the history of Edinburgh Castle in fact began millions, rather than thousands of years ago, and surprisingly this ancient period created the most obvious and dominating feature of the castle. After dropping my bag off at the nearby hotel, the striking, towering volcanic bedrock that the castle sits atop of is immediately obvious walking towards it. As I get closer, the dramatically shaped black rock formed millions of years ago presents itself as the first stage in the castles history. One side is a sheer cliff face where ancient lava struck, and the other a gentle slope, protected from the jagged cliffs on the other side, where the lava 'gracefully' drifted by. The castle's proudest statement is that its built on a prehistoric volcano.

I walk towards this sloping section, gifted by nature as a natural gateway to this fortress of rock, aptly named 'The Royal Mile'. Ancient buildings are more often than not chosen for their geographical surroundings and convenience, Edinburgh Castle being a clear example. As I reach the top of some steps, The Royal Mile slopes gently downwards to the right, and the castle stands beckoning to the left.

With the Fringe Festival commencing tomorrow, and the stadium already set up for the Edinburgh Tattoo, the crowds swarm around me. I enter through the first archway, with proud knights carved either side.

It takes a while to obtain my ticket, which I put down to the fact that the one o'clock cannon firing is in about half an hour. There is time for little exploring before. The castle walls seem to have more of reddish hue up close than expected, instead of the grey colour perceived from a distance. The walls are lined with cannons and outlooks, and immediately the impressive vantage point is obvious.

The castle's history as a royal residential establishment is actually quite limited - in fact only up until about 1603. Its chief involvement in history from then on was for military and war purposes. The list of wars Edinburgh Castle had involvement in is staggering, spanning centuries.

Holding prisoners of war was one of the castle's primary purposes. I head into the dark recesses of the prison area, guided by displays, exhibits and audio visual information. The smell of rot and damp fills the air. A large stone room is full of recreated hammocks where prisoners would have slept. It's easy to see how the comradery amongst prisoners formed and lead to prison breaks.

The next prison I head into is of typical Victorian design, with a central area containing a wrought iron staircase, and rows of small individual cells around it. Peering inside reveals the isolating nature of the conditions, although perhaps more preferable to the hammocks.

The Regiment Museum is just around the corner, and a quick walk-through reveals a fascinating history in costume and items such as pistols, horns and horse riding paraphernalia. Of course the kilt, as well as ornate bagpipes, are a recurring theme.

I justle for a position outside to witness the firing of the cannon at one o'clock. Tourists wrestle and push for a position whilst staff politely (and repeatedly) ask them to keep off the grass banks of the castle interior. Rather unceremoniously a kilted Scot appears, and although I am expecting it, the ricocheting bang makes me jump, and is followed by a plume of smoke drifting across the Edinburgh skyline.

The (hopefully) final battle in the castle seems to be the war of the tourists, as I fight my way through dozy dawdlers and screaming children to find the The Great Hall. The red walls and glowing embers of the huge fireplace create a warm space, with knights armour and weaponry adorning it.

Dramatic paintings, elaborate chandeliers and wooden vaulted ceilings adds to the grandness of it. The exterior certainly does seem to create a villainous sense of foreboding, intentional or not.

Finally I have a very quick peek into the Memorial Hall, before having to go back into battle to leave. Framed by the fortification inside the castle, modern Edinburgh from this perspective appears nurtured and as though under a protective spell.

Whether predominantly from its volcanic roots millions of years ago, or from its rich and evolving architectural history, Edinburgh Castle seems to cultivate a position of permanent authority from its location, and one of prowess from its strong stone walls.

'Big Macs' in Tokyo

Can culture permeate established global corporate identity? (Or - is McDonalds always a McDonalds?) 

Futuristic Shibuya

We are all mostly avoidant of the cultural ‘faux pas’ - the frowned upon act of resorting to the familiarity of corporate brands, be it food, clothing, or any other globally identifiable product, like a nurturing womb of 'home' comfort whilst we are abroad.

But should we always feel so guilty; perhaps it wasn't just the quick-fix remedy for some kind of full blown 'xenophobic' panic attack?

I look to a trip to Tokyo to see just how a Big Mac will 'taste'...

"Moshi moshi". I step off the plane and clear the refreshingly friendly Japanese immigration control, amongst Japanese donning clinical face masks, and sharply attired businessmen spilling into the Starbucks equipped arrivals hall of Narita airport. I watch them answer their unfamiliar brands of mobile phone with "moshi moshi"; it's evident that Tokyo is going to be different, but yet familiar.

The unmistakably welcoming hospitality of Japan is perhaps the main principle of this country that feeds my adoration for Tokyo. I have yet to purchase so much as a chocolate bar that wasn't delivered with a bow, and a very sincere looking smile. This is true of pretty much every transaction, even when I ask where to find the toilet in the labyrinthine Tokyo metro. This custom doesn't seem to be particularly bonded to either the older or younger generation. It sticks throughout.

After a lengthy but very comfortable transfer from Narita to central Tokyo with 'Limousine Bus', filled largely with western business types, I arrive at my hotel, The Grand Prince Akasaka. The hotel towers above the city with thirty plus floors, with its impressive and uniquely angular architecture designed by Kenzo Tange. Situated close to the National Diet building, and other Japanese governmental abodes, the hotel appeared mostly occupied by politicians and business men. The Grand Prince is now doomed for demolition, for reasons completely beyond me - with its humbly appointed rooms, space age toilets that require a degree to operate, iconic appearance and stunning lobby, although it's currently being used as a shelter for displaced earthquake victims.

The Grand Prince Akasaka offered incredible views

Although this hotel will soon be no more, I wouldn't condemn the other Akasaka area hotels, with relatively cheaper prices due to distance from tourist areas, but yet with great accessibility to Nagatacho metro station, an easy starting point for the metro.

Toilet function buttons... some were best left alone!

A quick stroll down the nearest street at Akasakamitsuke reveals a combination of 'cultural' paraphernalia; a flurry of stereotypical Tokyo arcades, and more mysterious 'Japanese Only' establishments, and also familiar brands - Subway, and a McDonalds.

Out of hunger, desperation and disorientating but expected jet-lag, I am ashamedly driven into McDonalds. Plastic seats, universally identical uniforms, and equally universal (and admittedly appealing) fast food smells. At first glance this is exactly the same as any other McDonalds. Why did I even entertain the thought?

Shuffling forward with crowds of lunch-hungry 'salary-men', or Japanese businessmen, I have a gander at the overhead menu - it begins to transcend the McDonalds norm. 'Teriyaki Mac Burger', 'Juicy Chicken Akatougarashi', 'Ebi Filet-O', 'Koroke Burger' and 'Mac Pork'.

Of course the 'Big Mac' is still on offer, but it's not just the extra sandwich options which set the Japanese counterpart, apart. I am curious to know what a 'McSmile' is, listed on the menu as costing a questionable '¥0'. In my much less than perfect attempt at the Japanese language I point to this on the pristine counter-top menu and ask. “O kudasai?” The immaculately appointed staff member simply nods at me in acknowledgement, and smiles. What I have asked for is a smile. Something so connected to the Japanese people as outstanding service has permeated into such a large corporation as McDonalds, and resulted in this unique little gem being added to the menu!

As I make my order I am treated with the same courteousness and service I have come to expect, perhaps taken for granted somewhat in my eager consumption. A tray with delicately placed fast food is politely handed to me, and the staff member exuberates, “Arigatou gozaimasu” - thank you, and proceeds to bow in picture perfect Japanese tradition. As I finish my meal in the eerily silent yet packed restaurant, another staff member whisks my tray away from me, empties the remnants of my jet-lag recovery food into the bin, smiles, bows in a backward motion, and finally ending with her holding the door open for me. I thought this was McDonalds.

In actual fact the globalisation of McDonalds has meant such modifications not just in Tokyo, or Japan, but around the world - the 'Maharaja Mac' for one.

And yes, the Big Mac tasted the same.

To get around the city of Tokyo itself, one would be completely and utterly insane to drive. I had no choice but to use the metro, but I think this is pretty much the default option for any savvy traveller. The metro runs like no other I have ever been on. Obsessively clean stations, trains and platforms, and a metro schedule so accurate and prompt, you could easily set your watch to it.

Immaculate Tokyo Metro

Etiquette on board the trains seems to adhere to the universal subway concept of 'don't look, don't talk', but almost certainly not as dreary as the tube, and with obvious differences. Despite being the most used subway system in the world, and subsequently the most sardine-esque, the Japanese are overtly courteous with other passengers. Travellers sometimes, and humorously, seem to adopt a 'fake sleep' whilst travelling, which they magically wake up from when arriving at their required stop. Curious; but this also fits in with the inherently shy, but in no sense rude, Japanese attitude. Besides, having that many people crammed into the train, sometimes in positions reminiscent of a game of Twister, makes conversation a little awkward at best.

I repent my anti-cultural sins a few days after visiting 'that restaurant', by taking a trip to a Japanese shrine, the Meiji Shrine. Well, if Hillary Clinton visited this shrine to show 'respect toward history and the culture of Japan', so can I…

The other-worldly Meiji Shrine offers a haven

Easily accessible by metro, as with most of Tokyo, the Meiji Shrine was finished in 1921, although rebuilt in 1958 after being heavily damaged during World War II. Located near the Harajuku area, it was built to commemorate Emperor Meiji and Empress Shokun, and is constructed almost entirely of Japanese Cypress tree and copper. The site seems to command an other-worldly tranquility and peace - definitely a must do, even if just to soothe delicate heads from the overdone sake, and relentless karaoke the night before (also a must do).

Stepping off at Harajuku station to reach this temple, I also inevitably walk through Harajuku itself, a piece of modern Japanese legacy. A vibrant amass of colour and intrigue, crammed full of small shops selling eclectically niche fashions, and just about anything covered under the word 'miscellaneous'. I am offered flyers from westerners attempting to sell me night club admission, or simply 'a good time'. Avoiding these I weave in and out of the shops, trying to make sense of some of the bizarre clothing. You will also find your big name brands; Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Prada - complete with big name prices on Omotesandō Street. Stick to Takeshita Street if you are after the one-of-a-kind bargains. A trip to Harjuku is essential.

Eclectic vibes of Harajuku

Mickey Mouse perhaps wasn't the next thing you expected to read, but in exploring the cultural permeation of Japan into global corporations, and to satisfy my long-lived Disney park appreciation – Tokyo Disney Resort simply had to be on my itinerary.

The iconic castle, ‘It’s a Small World’, the spinning teacups; yes they are all there, but again this global corporation differs in both its product, and delivery. I swiftly notice upon purchasing my tickets outside that the ‘cast members’, a Disney term coined for staff, haven’t adopted English as a necessity in the Japanese world of Disney, and why should they. It soon becomes clear however, after just a short time in Tokyo Disney Resort that this version is just as magical; perhaps even the best of them all.

A global landmark in the world of Disney - the castle

Why, exactly, this is, I would put down to the permeation of the Japanese psyche, service and quality into this otherwise global identity. The parks are spotlessly clean, with quality and sophistication injected into every corner, and cast members willing to bend over backwards to help guests. As I wait in the queue for a water based ride, I witness two female cast members haul a lone disabled guest straight out of a wheelchair without further assistance, clearly struggling yet also clearly determined to enable this guest to experience the attraction. The cast members bow at guests, in each boat dispatched – another wonderful, magical, Japanese touch.

Snaking around a long pathway, in another beautifully themed ‘land’, I come across an almost silent, hour long queue of patient Japanese visitors. This must be the queue for the fabled Gyoza Sausage Bun – something I had read about before my visit. Unique to Tokyo Disney Resort, eager Japanese are willing to wait what most of us might consider a ridiculously long time for this much anticipated snack. Both the delivery of this product; the willingness of the Japanese to wait, and of course the product itself, show the wonderful infusion of culture and well-established corporate brand. I wait until the queue dies down a little. The verdict – this must be an acquired taste!

I’m willing to bet that Disney as a global entity never anticipated this level of global expansion, or dreamt up such cultural assimilation from its initial all-American roots, even popularity for a mere snack. But the Disney park, or brand itself has evolved differently in its Asian backdrop. In fact the park is owned and operated by The Oriental Land Company, and has primary control over the finances and development of the resort.

This sort of franchising, as with McDonalds or any other global identity, is what gives these corporations a unique accent – a subtly alternative take on a firmly grounded concept, without complete distortion, and retaining the most important profiteering aspects of its core.

Shibuya by night transcends time

My last day in Tokyo is spent in the electrically mesmerising and hypnotically spectacular Shibuya, home to the largest pedestrian crossing in the world. I’m reminded of an old playground game, and mildly perturbed as the lights turn green, and an onslaught of trendily dressed citizens march towards me with mock stubbornness (of course everyone passes with polite awareness). I imagine that this could be a Times Square of the future; also a perfect example and conclusion to my exploration – a marvel of Japanese innovation, micro-packed with cultural stereotypes and nuances, and infused with international familiarities on a monstrous yet inviting scale. Gazing out at the vast television screens, skyscrapers, Japanese neon signs and frantically scurrying people, I sip a coffee in the largest Starbucks in the world.

Next time you find yourself immersed in a unique and engaging culture, yet plagued with an insatiable hunger, or home comfort that must be immediately remedied, don’t beat yourself up as you submissively scoff a tray of familiarly branded fast food.  

Culture is just outside the door; or perhaps even closer.