1 post tagged “greyfriars bobby”
Hello. Here, somewhat belatedly, is wot I done for my birthday.
My memories have all smeared together now and are mainly fleeting snapshots of Edinburgh and Glasgow, flicking across my brain like the scenery from a speeding train. The reason for this? It was SO COLD that we spent most of our time dashing from cafe to pub to restaurant as the day progressed, rather than taking a leisurely stroll around the town, admiring the architecture, wandering through the castle, hanging out with Greyfriars Bobby. The bitter cold that sank deep into my bones was one thing. But the icy blasts of winds against my back - just as I had adjusted to the idea that I would never again be warm - was another. They just weren't fair. Also, apparently it isn't possible to be both in pain and numb from the cold. I beg to differ.
Please note that I am not being melodramatic. At all. There was HORIZONTAL SNOW, everyone. Not even four layers of clothing, a long scarf and a pair of hardcore mittens can combat that. I would illustrate this post with my photos but I only took six, half of which consist of graffiti on the train and Gamba doing a confused cat face. This is because it was TOO COLD to stop moving.
Have I made my point yet? I protest too much because I had a brilliant time. It is amazing how even a few days away can make me forget how much my j*b sucks. We spent a couple of days in Edinburgh mainly drinking Guinness, humouring my whims and getting lost / eating hummous, drinking hot chocolate and trying on dresses. It was fantastically lazy.
On my birthday we went to Glasgow to see Gamba and the Breakdancer (and the Virtual Toddler). Glasgow is brilliant. And empty. The metro at rush hour was not like a London tube train crush and wheeze, and merely involved ambling into a seat. There are only half a million people there. We went to a restaurant that evening for my birthday and I celebrated with a fish supper and cake. And wine. And then more wine back at Gamba's beautiful flat. I am now 28. Many people have told me this was their favourite age, a time when significant things happened. I just like the elegance of being 4x7. It looks tidy and clean.
The following afternoon we went to a cafe called Mono with twee hipster waitresses and the coolest-in-an-uncool way clientele ever. All the customers looked like they got beaten up at school, only now they didn't care because they had found love and had tiny babies to dress in tweed and give bowl haircuts too. Bullied children should gaze in at the windows and see their future therein. We got the train back to Edinburgh (along with an obligatory copy of Take A Break with its ever misleading headlines - like Had Plastic Surgery Left Me Blind? - answer on p.11: no, my eyes were bandaged shut and I panicked for a minute when I woke up. Bah). We went for a meal in a restaurant with a beautiful view of the castle followed by whisky in a theatre bar, where we sat and watched burlesque themed hen parties come in.
I wasn't hungover the next morning but there was a sense of unease coursing through my body in the morning, like it was telling me I'd got away with champagne and red wine and whisky this time but I shouldn't take my chances again. Then it was time for the four hour train journey home, during which I mainly fell asleep in uncomfortable positions and was confused by an iPod.
In summary, here is what I learned:
- I do not cope well with extremes of temperature;
- Train journeys rock so hard;
- Going on holiday with awesome people will always end in giggling and blog-gossip ("why is everyone pregnant?") and too much wine and not wanting to come home.
