Jolly Jaunt to Edinburgh

We arrived in Edinburgh to be greeted largely by sun. In fact, it largely stayed this way while I was there. Apart from when it didn’t - 5/10 minute periods of the heavens opening when only a minute ago you were practically sunburnt. But hey, that’s the UK for you. I’m typing this on the train home right now and if I look to my right I see glorious sunshine, where as on my left it’s pouring.

The plan on the first day was very much to eat nice food and drink lovely drinks. And Edinburgh does not disappoint in this department. Staying in a hotel on the royal mile in the beautiful old town meant there was an abundance of gorgeous pubs with lashings of haggis and craft beer. You can sit in front of a pub and watch all the tourists go by as you soak in the history and the heritage all around you. As the evening went on, the lit-up Scott monument at the bottom of Princes street is a brilliant symbol of the melting of old and new, tradition and modernity.

Scran-wise, we settled on the mash bar, which, as the title suggests, is a reasonably priced restaurant offering a wide variety of mashed potatoes, with the option of adding haggis something I’d heartily recommend. Wash that down with a beer from local brewery Stewart’s and finish with an Ice-n-dirty - Ice cream with a generous helping of liqueur and topped with Scottish tablet. Absolute plate of cholesterol but you’re on holiday.

Then decided to pop to the Johnnie Walker flagship store to get a pin for my collection, only to be accused, after purchasing it, of stealing another pin. I was made to turn out my pockets and didn’t get a whiff of an apology which I felt a bit annoyed about but was, I decided, a price willing to pay if an apology was offered in a whisky-based form. Thus far, reaching this conclusion has been fruitless. But never mind. Following this, the rest of Edinburgh proved to be an an excellent selection of watering holes. The Caley Picture House, a former cinema, was the nicest Wetherspoons I’ve ever set foot in, with more great local beers on offer. Following this, copious bars offering live music made the city feel like Ireland. It’s not a vibe I’ve often come across in England and I very much enjoyed it. The night finished with an equally enjoyable Mexican-style takeaway.

As the events of the night before were as such, the first requirement of the morning was a full Scottish breakfast. This variation on the full English includes black pudding and a tattie scone and was bought from the highly-recommended Southern Cross cafe. Made me feel like I never needed to eat again. Immediately adjacent to this, copious tourists were taking pictures of what appeared to me to be just a shop. It later transpired it was a lovely little downhill alley with a view of the street beyond. Made a nice picture even with the big kebab shop sign halfway down. But, hey, nowt wrong with that. As I say, it’s a melting pot.

A last minute decision, wearing highly-inappropriate desert shoes, was made to climb Arthur’s seat, the huge extinct volcano which gives beautiful views of the city. I’d climbed the Scott monument on a previous trip to Edinburgh (a different kind of scary climb) but this was far superior for views. It was well worth the climb but, yeah, wear boots. And if you have a can of iron brew on you, get it in the picture.

This made the next pint of Stewart’s well-deserved and then we headed down to the playhouse to watch Lee Mack, David Mitchell and Rob Brydon’s show. The highly audience-involving production was very funny (particularly Lee Mack - I can confirm he really is as quick-witted as he appears on telly) even though I’m not from Edinburgh. Afterwards, a combination of the full Scottish and a brief, salty smoked sausage from the takeaway opposite the theatre meant immediate desire for more scran was somewhat subdued, so more pints were purchased. Time was getting on and restaurants were closing, and on an unrelated note we had a brief conversation about restaurants in the world that offer burgers with donuts/waffles instead of buns. I thank the brilliance of Scotland that I ended up, at about half 12 am that night, eating a waffle burger in a sit-down eatery. That night was followed by more live music in the excellent Whistlebinkies. 3am closing time every night and the best live band I think I’ve ever seen in a bar. Everyone was dancing. Everyone was involved. Some bloke was just going about with a djembe and adding to the sound on stage. I can’t imagine anything like this back in England and this was an ordinary Monday night.

Next morning, my third cooked breakfast in a row held the risk of getting tired. Thank God, therefore, for the discovery of Dishoom’s. A Bombay-style cafe that did an Indian spin on a full English breakfast, it presented me with one of the nicest breakfasts I’ve ever eaten. And there was unlimited chai tea lattes to boot. A couple more pints on the mile and now here I am typing this on the train. Scotland, you’ve been lovely. I’m very happy that I’m coming back at least twice this year. And I’m very happy to be reminded that a country to steeped in heritage, and so culturally brilliant, is so close.