Edinburgh <3

Photo by Kate Bielinski on Unsplash

Last week, my toddler and I ventured to Edinburgh. The purpose of the trip was to get a feel for the city as it’s on my list of potential areas to relocate to. Overall, I loved it.

I like how it has a number of personalities. Some arty, some bougie, some characterful. While there are pockets of social deprivation, there are plenty of – well, privation. Lots of boutiques, pricey cafes and fancy bookshops. Lots of AirPods and expensive athleisurewear. I like how there’s an abundance of stunning architecture, mountains and beaches. How overall, the schools are good, the water is high-quality and the buffeting wind cleanses the place of pollution. (a pain in the arse for long hair, though. Blinded by my own barnet battering my face).

I like the Scots, too (I married one, after all). I felt as though I had to do a bit of initial legwork conversationally, conscious that my southern English accent isn’t always a winner, but once the ice was cracked, you get more bang for your buck than you do down South. A male bus driver called me ‘pal’. One woman in a cafe raved about the community feel of her neighbourhood, punctuating her points with a raspy laugh that sounded like radio static – Khhshhhh. I was tempted to add an ‘Over!’ after each one.

It was easy to get about on the bus, walk between destinations and strike up conversations with interesting, sparky people. I left the place feeling a fresh sense of hope and excitement.  Like the world has possibility once more. That there’s something to aim towards, rather than a vague sense of ‘I’d like a change but I don’t know what or where to start’.

We stayed for three nights in an old school friend’s flat, located in Portobello (‘Porty’ as the locals call it, which felt disingenuous for me to say). My friend and his wife are empathetic, smart, self-aware and generous spirited. It can be all too easy to forget the power of spending time with old friends.

My toddler was surprisingly good company, up for a good time and keen to get tore in to as many baked goods as she could get her hot little hands on. The change of scene helped to keep her occupied and she was less inclined to give me the usual grief I get when she’s bored at home with me.

Even if we don’t end up living in Edinburgh, it was a good trip. A (forceful) breath of fresh air from the stagnancy I’ve been feeling lately. Sometimes it just takes a little of something different to lift your spirits.