Edinburgh is a coy city. Visitors are treated to a gaudy show of tartan, tat, kilts and kitsch strung out along the Royal Mile from the castle to Holyrood Palace, and most tourists chose to detain themselves in this Disney World version of the Scottish capital. Edinburgh hides her real jewels for the patient explorer to discover.

The views in Auld Reekie are always spectacular, so a good start to a trip out of touristland is to pick a close – the narrow alleys breaking off the Mile – and go exploring. Dinnae fret about where you’re going, as downtown Edinburgh is generally safe and you’re never far from the castle.

When you do go up to the castle, stop a minute outside the gates to check out the plaque bearing a familiar flag. When Nova Scotia was being colonized, Scots were granted titles in New Scotland by standing on a piece of Nova Scotia turf kept in here.

Edinburgh is a writers’ city. Its largest monument is the giant gothic rocket on Princes’ Street, dedicated to Sir Walter Scott, and the nearby train station is named after his Waverley novels.

Wandering down from the castle to the palace along the Royal Mile, a detour onto George the Fourth Bridge takes you to the Elephant House – where JK Rowling scribbled out her story about wizards. Grab a seat in the back, where you’ll enjoy a fine view of the castle, perched atop

its extinct volcano, and overlook the graveyard made famous by Greyfriar’s Bobby.

It’s bad news though for any poor wee dogs contemplating a similar vigil for their dead owners – a sign at the churchyard entrance bans pooches from the grounds.

Rowling now lives nearby on “Writers’ Block” – along with Ian Rankin and Alexander McCall Smith. Statues to Robbie Burns are dotted throughout the city, along with a few to Robert Louis Stevenson.

A couple of years ago, a man living near Rankin was murdered, chopped up, and hidden in a backyard. Rankin turned up and started nosing around – turns out the Inspector Rebus author had never been to an actual murder scene before.

Head down The Mound to get to the New Town – that’s “new” in the European sense, as it was built in 1751. The Mound was constructed from earth removed when they drained the Nor’ Loch at the foot of the castle. Dirt wasn’t the only thing they found – at the bottom of the loch were human bones. Tests showed they were all female, and mostly young. A flick through the history book revealed the loch was the place where “witches” were put to the sink-or-float test in Edinburgh – sink and drown to prove your innocence, or float and be executed on that proof of your guilt.

When they built the New Town, they wisely decided to leave Princes’ Street half done. One side is lined with a mix of shops (take a moment to admire the Jenners building), and the other offers stunning views of the jumbled Old Town and castle.

And, at one end, you will indeed see the ruins of a Greek temple. Standing in the rain shivering, you may find it hard to believe that someone once called Edinburgh the Athens of the North, and that someone else set about building a temple atop Carlton Hill to celebrate. Only, they ran out of money, and Edinburgh was left with a half-built folly. It takes a bit of effort to walk up Carlton Hill, but the views are worth it, especially if you’re planning to skip the harder climb up Arthur’s Seat, the big hill in Holyrood Park.

Take a long stroll down Leith Walk to get a taste of real Edinburgh. The genteel city quickly fades away, replaced by rundown shops and rundown people. At the Foot of the Walk, look to your right and you’ll see the Leith Links – where, unfortunately, the sport of golf was invented. The Links were also made famous by Irving Welsh in his Leithy novel, Trainspotting.

Head left and you’ll soon emerge on the Shore – a seriously underrated part of Edinburgh, and the perfect place for a drink. Walk along the Water of Leith and stop into the King’s Wark pub, which started serving brews in 1613, and hasn’t stopped since.

First published in the Halifax Daily News June 23 2007