Edinburgh: Five weeks on

Hello!

I hope you're all well. Have you been up to anything exciting, or travelled anywhere, lately?

Today marks five weeks since I returned home from Edinburgh, tired and a little sad but looking forward to an exciting weekend ahead that was to be spent with good friends. As my final night crept into my final morning, I settled down in front of one of the bedroom windows and stared out at the yellow-lit pavements and cars below, reflecting. Most people were tucked up in bed, and while Firrhill Drive was all but silent, in my mind I had no doubt that the city beyond the neighbouring row of houses would be bustling still, its famous landmarks illuminated and shining brighter than ever in the blackness. I thought about my recent day trips into town, that morning's trek through the Hermitage of Braid and the incredible view from the top of Blackford Hill. I cast my mind back to a particularly pleasant evening of the summer gone by, spent on fold-out chairs beneath the castle parapets in Princes Street Gardens, watching the Festival Fireworks.

People flock to Princes Street Gardens to soak up the
sunshine

I'd paid my first visit to the city on Saturday, hopping off a number twenty seven bus just outside the main gate of Greyfriar's Kirkyard. I'd explore this a bit later, but first I was to make a highly-anticipated return to the National Museum to see some of its new exhibitions. I couldn't resist dropping into Mr Wood's Fossils to admire its impressive collection of natural treasures and, it being the weekend, as I made my descent onto Grassmarket I was greeted by rows and rows of sellers' stalls. I weaved my way between them, checking out all they had to offer, before going on to discover some interesting shops on West Bow and Victoria Street, including a Diagon Alley-themed emporium.

The blazing sun had me feeling terribly hot and uncomfortable by time I'd reached High Street. I thought it a good idea to attempt to cool off with an iced coffee, and sat outside one of the Royal Mile's many cafes with my drink, watching the passers-by. I soon began my peruse of the shops lining the historic thoroughfare, enjoying some free fudge and shortbread samples in Scottish food stores, taking photos, and winding my way through the stalls of the Royal Mile Market. Passing through a small close, I located the Writers' Museum which I was keen to explore.

View from the top of Calton Hill

I later journeyed along Cockburn Street, continuing past Waverley Mall until I reached the foot of Calton Hill. I climbed the stone steps which carry every intrigued visitor up to the park's spectacular vantage point, and gazed eastwards over Princes Street from exactly same spot in which I'd done so one foggy afternoon in February. I ended my day perched behind a window ledge in a Waterstones cafe, looking out across Princes Street Gardens and at the castle beyond; sipping on another iced coffee; and getting stuck in to another chapter of my book. I made plans to return to that new favourite spot of mine before the week was up.

Buildings surrounding Greyfriars Kirkyard

And return I did, but not until a second day of city escapades was drawing to a close. While the weather on Saturday had left me feeling flustered, the drizzle and cool, overcast skies that persisted on Monday turned what was already a brilliant day into a perfect one. Finally getting the chance to hitch a ride in the lift up to the National Museum's rooftop garden, I stood still and silent, admiring the cityscape which was shrouded in mist. I warmed up with some tea purchased from a nearby cafe before venturing inside Greyfriars Kirk and taking another stroll around the surrounding grounds.

The Rock Garden stream at the Royal Botanic Gardens

Next stop: the Royal Botanic Gardens. I chose not to visit the Glasshouses this time round but did traverse almost every other inch of the place, shop included. Passing over oriental-stlye bridges in the Chinese Terrace Garden one moment, then trampling through the shade of native woodland the next, the gardens managed to take me on a journey around the entire globe in a matter of hours. I stopped by the Fossil Court to see some ancient fossilised tree trunks and roots, stared open-mouthed at the pine cone-covered ceiling of a little hut in the Queen Mother's Memorial Garden, appreciated another fantastic city panorama as I crossed the lawn of Inverleith House, and fed some squirrels as I approached the Pond. As I travelled back into the heart of town, I popped into a little antiquarian bookshop that my bus had driven past earlier.

Armchair Books, West Bow

I'd been intrigued by the National Library for quite a while, and that Monday seemed the perfect day for me to finally go and take a peek inside. With no membership I was limited to what I could do there, but I did get to have a good look around the library shop and see its latest public exhibition. The aforementioned cold, dreary weather conditions gave me the perfect excuse to go and get myself a hot coffee that afternoon. Navigating to the hidden gem that is Armchair Books, chilly hands wrapped around my burning cup, it felt as if Scotland was in the depths of its autumn.

Having spent some time in the enchanting bookstore, I passed along King’s Stable Road and happened across one of the main entrance gates to the far, as yet unexplored, end of Princes Street Gardens. I chose to follow a less-trodden path which ran alongside the castle crag, forced to conquer steep inclines and scramble through the arch of some old stone ruins before I could even begin to make any progress along it. From my highest point was an amazing view over Princes Street.

I stayed in Waterstones' cafe until just before eight o'clock. My luck had been in when I'd arrived there, a table one row back from its grand-looking window being vacant. Two lovely hot drinks kept me going while I tapped away at my keyboard, getting started on my latest blog post. My last little bit of city excitement came in the form of a ride on the Festival Wheel, after which I began my journey home, exhausted. I didn't get back to the house until about nine o'clock, glad of some cosy pyjamas, food, and nice, warm tea.

Since arriving back in London, I've spent a few nights in Birmingham puppy-sitting for a friend, along with eight nights in Blackpool for a much-needed family catch up. Despite having been so busy with even more travels and the odd trip into town, meal out, music event or walk in the park, I continue to think about my Scottish adventures. I don't know when exactly I'll get to go back, but there's no doubt that when I do, it'll be just like going home.