Scotland, Day 17: Breakfast at Greenwoods, Browsing at Golden Hare Books, Drams at The Vaults (Scotch Malt Whisky Society), Dinner at Timberyard

September 13, 2025

The knocker on our apartment door. I’ve been in a rush, but wanted to document this before we left. Reminded me a bit of the tile faces we had on our dining room fireplace.

Down the street for an early breakfast at Greenwoods. Tight quarters. It was SUPER crowded, and I’m glad we made reservations the night before.

Back home, trying to figure out how to pack our suitcases with all the whisky we purchased.

All the Tetris games we’ve ever played led us to this moment.

After a dry run of packing, we realized that we didn’t have room enough for all the yarn Liz purchased. To offset things, we deceided to mail all the yarn at the local post office.

Walking there, I spotted this small side street.

Fun bit of trivia: we looked up the various post offices, and found that the one with the most positive reviews/comments was the Stockbridge Post Office. We ended up walking back again near where we had breakfast/dinner yesterday (getting quite used to this walk).

The man behind the counter was incredibly helpful, and very patient with us regarding our international shipping. He didn’t complain per se, but mentioned Trump’s tariffs were causing a bit of havoc.

When we mentioned we were from Chicago, he replied with “The Blues Brothers. Now I’m going to have to watch that again tonight.”

He was awesome.

Walking back and ducking out of the rain, we stopped off at Golden Hare Books. A place that Liz found (because of course she did).

A few hours and a super sketchy Uber ride later… we arrived at The Vaults (another Scotch Malt Whisky Society location, this time in Leith).

Our ride was really dodgy. He took us around some odd roads, and claimed he couldn’t’ take us to the entrance. And tried to drop us off down some side street, and suggested we walk around a corner to get to the entrance.

The area was pretty desolate, but I’m pretty convinced there was someone waiting for us if we had gotten out and walked around that corner. We insisted he take us to the main entrance.

The entrance, waiting to go in.

On walking into the main members area (there’s no public bar at this location), we spotted the aftermath of what must have been a colossal tasting session.

We learned that there are two gentlemen (old friends) that meet at the Vaults, and taste everything that’s released at each outturn. One gentleman lives pretty far away, and ends up taking a bus for an hour plus, just to get here (and another ride back, if you can imagine).

Apparently, they’ve been doing this for ages. I would have loved to have been here a little earlier, to have met them both.

A view of the room from our seats.

A phenomenal bar.

L to R: Behold the Beast (76.157 – Mortlach, 18 Year, aged in a 1st fill Oloroso Butt) and The Snaking Coil (36.227 – Benrinnes, 28 Year, Ex-Bourbon Hogshead for 26 years, 1st Fill American Oak PX Hogshead for the last 2 years).

Juggle Lemons on the Beach (52.47 – Old Pulteney, 11 Year, 1st Fill Ex-Bourbon).

Liz, savoring her dram.

Me, contemplating how many bottles I could grab as I make run for the door. I’d probably get tackled, but my hope is that Liz would be behind me picking up anything I dropped… and in the confusion, she’d get free.

A private room, which looked pretty nice.

The Members’ Lounge itself was quite lovely. And the view of the bar is phenomenal. But having this small space to yourself seems like a nice extra (seems an appropriate place to finalize government contracts or corporate takeovers).

A view of the main room.

Confusion Now Hath Made His Masterpiece (6.65 – Macduff, 16 Year, Refill PX Hogshead).

I didn’t know this, but the title is a reference to a line spoken by Macduff, from Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

A bit later, in the early evening… we arrived at Timberyard for our last meal in Edinburgh/Scotland.

Every once in a while, the doors would close to the kitchen area (after the staff all congregated). I wanted desperately to eavesdrop, and to be able to hear what was going on in there during this time.