Edinburgh… Brilliant, magical, lovely… It is quiet. Enough is here in the way of shopping, cultural events, and eateries to keep most happy, with additional layers of green spaces and outdoor-based diversions and deep history to provide a sense of place for the rest of us. Enough space and rolling hills to provide “character. The small closes (alley-like ways) and hidden spaces. And beautiful, smartly dressed people who invoke a sense of down to earth good humor and settled strength.
I landed yesterday to a sunlit sky and proper cold weather (30’F). Perhaps it is just the juxtaposition to Beirut’s frantic-feeling pace but there is a calm here, and no car horns. Stability is a luxury… Greeted with a cup of tea and a few good question as 2 Cambridge Street, a stunning B&B.
While heeled boots were a stupid choice of footwear, six plus hours of walking the city was well worth the time: Calton Hill, The Castle, Princess Street Gardens, Grassmarket. And reminded that some of my favorite authors hail from this northern local: James Herriot, Robert Louis Stevenson, JM Barrie.
Toast and coffee, reading of the Royals’ engagement, the wind in the beechwood hedge, in the hamlet of Nisbet, Scotland. Green and hills in all directions, the quiet tick of the kitchen clock. I have not thought about work save to notice its absence…