Saturday, October 20, 2012
It was bucketing down in London when I headed off to London City Airport (an amazing 20 minutes away from my apartment) to catch my flight to Edinburgh. I always seem to forget that rain comes from condensation and doesn't just fall straight from space, and so was quite surprised when we broke through the clouds and it was clear blue skies all round (sorry science teachers!).
The plane I was on was a tiny Air France jet that seats about 30 people, but on a late Monday morning there were only 7 on board. It was rather like being on a private jet. Right until take-off, the door to the pilot's cockpit was open and I could see right through to the colourful flashing dials and gizmos. The flight attendant brought in a tray of food in for the pilots and stood chatting... Reminds me of what it was like before people became so suspicious in airports and on planes!
The weather was so glorious when we circled the skies of Edinburgh, waiting to land, that I could see Edinburgh castle and Arthur's seat from the window - the views were simply amazing and I just couldn't WAIT.
Arrived, dropped off my bag at the hotel and hurried out to Arthur's seat. Goal = Sheep Heid Inn. It was only 3pm and rather too early for dinner, but I knew it would be a fair trek (about 1.5 hours) and had to factor in time to get back before it gets dark. Really, I would rather not be trekking through hills without a sense of direction and without light, contributing to the next morning's headlines: "Woman missing/stabbed/murdered en route from pub" or "Lawyer tumbling down cliffs after a pint too many"...
On the way to Sheep Heid Inn
There is something about visiting a pub that was established in 1360 and that in their own words has been "feeding and watering people for more than six centuries". Not sure if fish and chips had been around for six centuries too, but it went down very nicely with my much more rustic starter of grilled kidneys and a HUMONGOUS Martini Royale (the glass was half the size of my face and let me just say I have never seen it being filled that full).
Despite my best intentions, it was alarmingly dark when I left. Took extra-long to get back to the town centre too, as I had to avoid the usual deserted paths that I normally take and stick to the main road that wound frustratingly around the hills. Even then, my colleagues who still had to work were catching an evening flight so there was a couple hours left to kill before we could catch up for a drink. I decided to have a little wander around town and revisit places I used to haunt.
It is always weird walking around a place you used to know so well, but returning now as a stranger, an outsider peeping in through the fogged up windows of a once-favourite restaurant, a long-forgotten bar, finding unfamiliar faces sitting in your usual spot, laughing, chatting, drinking, eating, knowing that that was you, exactly, four long years ago...
It is always weird walking around a place you used to know so well, but returning now as a stranger, an outsider peeping in through the fogged up windows of a once-favourite restaurant, a long-forgotten bar, finding unfamiliar faces sitting in your usual spot, laughing, chatting, drinking, eating, knowing that that was you, exactly, four long years ago...
Trip down memory lane - just outside my old flat
Ended up at Kilimanjaro, one of my favourite cafes, reading a book I picked up just before leaving for the airport - The Unbearable Lightness of Scones by Alexander McCall Smith - set, where else, in Edinburgh. It was lovely and quiet and the coffee was impeccable as usual, although no longer served in red cups.
Kilimanjaro - red cups no more
Kilimanjaro closed at 8pm, so I moved on to Beanscene, another cafe just down the road with the softest couches, lighted only by candles and a roaring fire. Honestly, this is exactly why I love Edinburgh - sweet cozy little spots like this into which you can disappear for a few hours.
There was a line in the book I was reading, that the comforting thing about Edinburgh is that everything stays the same. Well, there were some little things that I noticed here and there - a cafe had gone missing, a restaurant had expanded, one more Starbucks down the road, the lack of red cups in Kilimanjaro...
But aside from that, everything else in Edinburgh looked - smelt - felt, to me, the same.
And I really hope it will stay that way.