For the past twelve years—except for 2020, of course—I’ve celebrated my birthday somewhere other than home. It’s become a personal tradition, one that takes the pressure off figuring out how to celebrate and, in more recent years, helps me forget (even just for a moment) that I’m turning another year older.
This year, I chose the United Kingdom—London and Edinburgh—as the destination. It had been 49 years since I last visited Britain as a child, when I traveled to see my aunt, uncle, and their newborn daughter. I was excited to reconnect with that cousin, now grown, married with children, and thriving in her career, and to explore two iconic cities I had only known through stories, photos, and imagination.
This journey was about more than sightseeing. It was about reconnection—both with family and with parts of myself that long for culture, history, and spontaneous adventure. And as always, it was a celebration: of life, of travel, and of the joy in growing older on my own terms.
A Family Reunion in the English Countryside
Before diving into the bright lights of London, my British adventure began with something much more personal—family. I landed at Heathrow Airport after a smooth flight, a bit anxious about how long it might take to get through customs and collect my luggage. My cousin-in-law was picking me up and I didn’t want to keep him waiting.
To my surprise, my suitcase was one of the first off the conveyor belt, and customs? A breeze. I scanned my passport at one of the automated machines and walked straight out. That’s it? I thought. Welcome to Britain.
But of course, no international arrival would be complete without a little chaos—my phone battery was down to 2%, my portable charger mysteriously dead (despite being fully charged before I left), and my adaptor buried in my checked luggage. Classic travel oversight. I felt a wave of panic creep in. How would I let him know I’d arrived?
Thankfully, I found a free USB charging station and plugged in while scanning the crowd for a familiar face I’d only seen in photographs. As fate would have it, he had just parked and was entering the terminal as I came through arrivals. Perfect timing.
The hour-and-a-half drive to Cambridge turned out to be one of the most meaningful conversations of the trip. We talked about everything—his daughters (my second cousins), our countries’ economies, the political climate, the environment. It was one of those long, open-hearted conversations that remind you how connected family really is, even across oceans.
When we arrived at their charming countryside home, my cousin came to the door and we hugged immediately. It had been 33 years since we’d last seen each other. She and I flew to California for a road-trip down the Pacific Coast Highway when she was just 17, stopping in San Francisco, Monterey, and San Diego. Seeing her again felt like stepping back in time and forward at the same time.
Inside, I was welcomed by her lovely daughters, and we all gathered around their large, reclaimed wood kitchen table—coffee in hand, surrounded by a spread of fresh cheeses and charcuterie. We shared photos, memories, and laughter until it was time to clean up and head into the heart of Cambridge for dinner.
Cambridge was a dream. We walked through the historic town—quaint shops, ivy-draped university buildings, and the peaceful green spaces that gave the city a quiet magic. My cousins showed me where they studied, and we wandered under a cool, refreshing sky, talking easily like old friends.
That night, I slept deeply and peacefully—grateful.
The next morning, more good conversation flowed over a simple yet delicious breakfast: buttery pastries, crusty French bread, fresh fruit, and coffee. Lunch was a classic English meat pie with a green salad, and before I knew it, we were taking photos, saying goodbye, and heading to the station where I caught the train to London—feeling full in every way that matters.
London Lights and West End Nights
The minute I stepped out into London, the excitement of the big city hit me. As the black cab drove me to my hotel, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Toronto, Ontario, Canada—and I thought to myself, I could live here. During my stay, I would learn just how very expensive London is to live in. I suppose no different than Toronto, NYC, etc.
Checking into the hotel had a minor hiccup: they couldn’t find my reservation. Turns out, I was a day early. Luckily, they had a room for me that night. Crisis averted. Reminder: double check all your reservations before leaving on your trip
I cleaned up and headed out into the city in search of a proper Sunday Roast. I found exactly what I was craving at The Coal Hole Pub—a delicious, hearty meal complete with the biggest Yorkshire pudding I’d ever seen. It did not disappoint—it brought back memories of the Yorkshire pudding my grandmother used to make; just not as big.
That evening, I leaned fully into tourist mode and hopped on a London by Night sightseeing tour—an open-top bus that cruised through the city’s most iconic landmarks under the glow of evening lights. Our local guide was quick-witted and full of stories; the kind of person who makes history feel alive. As we rolled through the different boroughs, I snapped photo after photo: the London Eye lit up in soft blues, the grandeur of Parliament, and of course, the clock tower everyone mistakenly calls Big Ben. (Fun fact: Big Ben is actually the bell inside the tower—not the tower or the clock itself!)
Navigating London, however, was a challenge in itself. The city isn’t laid out in a grid like many North American cities; instead, its winding streets pay homage to its medieval roots. I found myself constantly checking the maps on my phone to figure out where I was and where I was going. Street names were often difficult to find—posted high on the sides of buildings, if at all. From my European travels, I knew to look at the sides of corner buildings for street names, but not every building had signage—leaving me momentarily lost more than once.
To make matters more confusing, it took me a full day to realize that just like the driving rule, pedestrians in London pass on the left. As someone used to walking on the right, I kept bumping into people until the lightbulb finally went off. Stay left—simple, yet so not instinctual for me!
After the tour, I strolled back to The Strand Palace Hotel, cutting through the heart of Piccadilly Circus. The square was buzzing—neon signs blazing, street performers entertaining clusters of tourists, and the pulse of the city humming all around me. It felt like London’s version of Times Square, only more historic and definitely more British.
As I walked back to my hotel, I realized I was staying right in the middle of London’s famed West End—the city’s theater district—and I was surrounded by the magic of live performance. Everywhere I turned, there was a marquee: The Lion King, Wicked, Mean Girls… it was this theater lover’s dream.
And so began an unforgettable stretch of West End magic that left me dazzled and hungry for more.
Days of Wandering, Markets, and the Cotswold’s
My first full day was all about walking—and walking I did. I joined a five-hour guided walking tour that took me through some of London’s most iconic landmarks. We passed the stately façade of Spencer House and paused for photos outside Buckingham Palace, arriving just in time to watch the Changing of the Guard. From there, we followed the path of history through Whitehall and on toward the Parliament buildings and clock tower, perfectly timed to hear it toll one o’clock. There’s something special about hearing that chime in real time—it roots you in the moment.
Later, I stopped for a late lunch (or very early dinner) of Fish and Chips and a Pimm’s at a local pub with the rather ominous name: The Hung Drawn and Quartered; there was the remains of a rope hanging from the ceiling. Despite the name, the food was warm and satisfying—the perfect comfort after miles on foot.
That evening, I made my way to the Piccadilly Theatre for Moulin Rouge. The venue was small and cozy, creating a much more intimate and personal experience than you’d find in a large performing arts center. You could feel the audience’s excitement ripple through the room. The only drawback? My seat was directly behind a 7-foot-tall, broad-shouldered man who completely blocked my view of the stage. I spent the show leaning forward, tilted slightly to the left, peeking over his shoulder and around his head.
The performance itself was dazzling—visually stunning with incredible vocals, choreography, and energy that spilled right off the stage. My takeaway? Definitely see the show, but next time, get tickets in the balcony or closer to the front to avoid an obstructed view. Trust me—it’s worth it.
Edinburgh: Cobblestones, Castles, and a Different Kind of Magic
Leaving London behind, I boarded the fast train from King’s Cross Station bound for Edinburgh—a scenic four-and-a-half-hour journey that offered the perfect opportunity to rest, reflect, and gaze out the window as the landscape slowly shifted from urban sprawl to rolling countryside. I napped on and off, lulled by the rhythm of the tracks. As we crossed into Scotland, the skies grew moodier, and a quiet excitement stirred within me. I’d often heard that Edinburgh was a city that clung to your soul—and I was ready to find out why.
The moment I stepped off the train at Waverley Station, I was struck by the atmosphere. London dazzles; Edinburgh broods—in the best possible way. Where London is sprawling and modern, Edinburgh is compact, layered, and steeped in ancient elegance. This is a city where stories live, as I would soon learn.
I hailed a cab to my hotel in New Town, right on the edge of Old Town. My head swiveled as I took in the sights—I couldn’t wait to get out and explore. The hotel was fresh and modern, the welcome warm and friendly. After checking in and freshening up, I got my bearings and set off to discover what the Royal Mile was all about. As I wove my way through the narrow streets alongside Edinburgh Castle, I found the long, steep stairway that led up to Old Town and the beginning of the historic Royal Mile.
To celebrate my birthday, I ducked into a charming bake shop and ordered a slice of the most decadent carrot cake with cream cheese icing, paired with a double espresso. I savored it all while gazing out over the Water of Leith from New Town. Later that evening, I caught my first glimpse of the Firth of Forth—the sea that the river flows into.
A couple of hours later, I joined the Edinburgh Darkside Walking Tour: Mysteries, Murder, and Legends. Our guide, a local, was a masterful storyteller who brought the city’s eerie past to life with tales of executions, body snatchers, hauntings, and murder. The tour ended atop Calton Hill, just in time for a breathtaking sunset.
The next day began with a stroll down the Royal Mile, where street performers, tartan shops, and bagpipe players vied for attention. I hopped on the red line of the open-top hop-on-hop-off bus tour, which offered a ~60-minute narrated ride around the Old Towns key landmarks. I then switched to the blue line for an 85-minute loop out toward the Firth of Forth, taking in even more of Edinburgh’s highlights, and finally rode the 65-minute green line, which focused on New Town—designed to mirror Old Town, yet still infused with a medieval charm.
One of the most memorable experiences was the Full-Day Trip to Loch Ness, Glencoe, and the Highlands—the perfect way to spend an overcast day with a 90% chance of rain. This tour is a must; the landscape is breathtaking and showcases the raw beauty of Scotland. Our driver / guide was exceptional —
entertaining us with stories, humor, singing, and even a Highland Fling! We stopped several times throughout Glencoe, Callander, Pitlochry, Loch Ness, and at the Commando Monument, soaking in the sweeping views and snapping photos along the way. I had the best fish and chips at McKay’s Fish and Chip Shop.
On my final day in Edinburgh, I slept in before embarking on a series of tours. First up was the Edinburgh Witches Old Town Walking Tour and Underground Vaults—equal parts spooky, fascinating and educational. There is a Witches’ Well which stands as a sobering reminder of the thousands of women—many healers, midwives, or simply misunderstood—who were persecuted and burned at the stake between 1479 and 1722. It’s a quiet yet powerful tribute to lives lost to fear, superstition, and systemic injustice, and it invites reflection on how society treats those who live or think differently.
I grabbed a quick toastie—what North Americans would call a grilled cheese sandwich—as I strolled up The Royal Mile to the Scotch Whisky Experience, where I learned the difference between single malt and blended whisky, how to swirl, sniff, and identify flavor notes… and reaffirmed that I still prefer mine with cola!
Next, I joined the delightful Chocolatarium Chocolate Tour Experience, a must for anyone with even a passing interest in chocolate. It was an engaging and eye-opening dive into the world of chocolate—from its ethical and economic impact to the art of discerning everyday chocolate from truly exceptional pieces. We sampled everything from dark to milk varieties with flavor profiles ranging from fruity to spicy—and we even created our own chocolate masterpiece.
After a comforting bowl of pasta with pomodoro sauce at Bella Italia, I capped off my trip with The Edinburgh Literary Pub Tour. Led by two hilarious local actors, it was an uproariously funny evening as they debated Scotland’s rich literary heritage, bringing iconic writers and tales to life. Their wit, chemistry, and theatrical flair kept us laughing as we wandered from pub to pub through Old Town.
What a perfect way to end my holiday.
Final Thoughts
This trip wasn’t just about celebrating another birthday. It was about honoring traditions, reconnecting with family and heritage, and stepping into the new year feeling curious, grateful, and alive.
If the UK wasn’t already on your list—add it. And if you’re ever wondering how to spend your next birthday, I highly recommend getting on a plane.