The night we returned to England from Cyprus was dark and foggy and near to the witching hour, the perfect night for ghostly intervention. We had none of that however; just a whole lot of hassle with immigration as we tiredly tried to convince the Ultimate Decider that we would not work illegally and that we were, in fact, only going to be in the country six more days. After all the questions and checks were made we were free and back into Blackpool for a few days before we headed a little further north to the bonny city of Edinburgh.
Because we hate the cold, we only gave ourselves a couple of days in this pretty, literary city. But we used them well. We walked and walked, across cobblestones and over hills, reading quotes of the cities souls anywhere they could be carved. We found the sun, one day, and this farmly view was discovered on top of another hill just minutes from a busy city intersection.
We found the windiest place in Edinburgh- possibly the known world- and after spending about 45 minutes climbing to it, made sure there was photographic proof, stood around making weather chat for 5 minutes and then scurried back down to somewhere we could actually see again.
We came across the most nightmarish version of Puss in Boots I could never have imagined in a toy museum full of nostalgia (we were both in fits though neither of us is rightfully old enough to fondly recall the items we saw). Proceed with caution; forever hereafter your Puss in Boots will be fanged...
We walked also in the evenings. Edinburgh is like Adelaide's Scottish older sister. They are both big enough to be interesting but small enough that a walk from one side to the other isn't off-puttingly daunting and guaranteed to end in blisters. Edinburgh is the elder simply becuse she is; these footpaths are seeped in history, museums abound. There's a castle, for goodness sake. We could even ignore the odd, pervasive smell of what I can only describe as dog food that followed us about. It wasn't us. I can only assume it was from the smoking brewery.
We discovered the ultimate way to eat pig whilst we were here. Here's what you do:
Step 1. Be very hungry and be outside, hopefully in a misting rain under skies that promise worse to come.
Step 2. See that shop that has half a cooked pig in the window? It has a knife sticking out of it's back, I know. Don't be scared. Go inside.
Step 3. Order the biggest hunk of bread and watch, salivating, as the friendly pink-shirted girl stuffs it with slow-cooked pulled pork. Get very excited as she tops it with stuffing and apple sauce.
Step 4. Now you are sitting with it in your hand. You know what to do...try to go slow...indigestion is imminent. It'll be the happiest indigestion you will ever have.
We also made a self discovery whilst in this city of the north. Apparently- and this is a difficult thing for self-proclaimed world travelers to admit- we are not as open minded as we imagined. Because we have reached that stage in our travels where a check of the bank balance comes with tightly crossed fingers and immediate denial of reality, we needed to find a free place to stay in Edinburgh. And because it was a last minute journey, the only person to accept our desparate pleas for shelter told us we were very welcome, so long as we had no problem with his being a nudist. We considered. Two seconds later we replied positively; this will be fine, we thought, we're cool with this. And hey, free room! Hahaha. Turns out you can't really know how okay you are with this scenario til you are in a tiny living room, trying to appear casual as you stare fixedly at the ceiling whilst being offered tea by a naked stranger who is in the midst of preparing his evening meal...
And these are some lights we found in a garden. Don't know why. They were oddly mesmerising though.
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