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I suppose it was only to be expected, really.

Holyrood Park | FarOuterHEbrides

In 1865, Mr. Dodgson set the bar for British tea parties.

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Since he immortalised the great British institution in story, the Great British Institution has become synonymous in my mind with outlandish hats and absurd circumstances, though I dare say our jokes are of a somewhat higher calibre.

Holyrood Park | FarOuterHEbrides

Dodgson can’t really be held responsible for the hats; just look at the royal wedding. But for fantastical circumstances surrounding the consumption of my afternoon tea and cakes… that I lay entirely at his door.

Horses from Parliament | FarOuterHebrides

Really, how else can you explain having a bus diverted on the way to tea by a pipe and drum corps, a dozen revolutionary-era redcoats with assorted hangers-on, and great long parade of horses coming up the Royal Mile from Parliament?

Horses from Parliament | FarOuterHebrides

Horses from Parliament | FarOuterHebrides

Down at the foot of the hill, by the Queen’s Gallery, there’s a small street sign I hadn’t noticed before.

Horses from Parliament | FarOuterHebrides

Seems fair.

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