The first time we visited Edinburgh, the streets were all up because they were building the new tram system. The last two years I’ve not had a chance to go on one (I blame Nicktor). Today that all changed.
It was our usual yearly trip to see the Pars play. Okay, Nicktor pretends he has a meeting to go to so we can justify the football but, basically it’s our yearly trip to a Pars game.
Nicktor picked me up at stupid o’clock and it was a very good job he did. He, like me, loves a couple of buffers and we needed both of them this morning.
The traffic was fine up until we reached about five miles from the airport and then it just stopped. Three lanes all going nowhere.
As our buffer ticked away, we inched forward foot by agonising foot until we reached the exit to Gatwick. And that’s where the problem was.
Fire engines, ambulances, police…everyone was there trying to cut someone out of their car. It didn’t look good. We sped off as soon as we could. As Nicktor said, it wasn’t the plane that needed catching, so much as the toilet.
I’m happy to say he made it and we were soon through security and boarding the plane. Then we were stuck a bit of a log jam in the tunnel to the plane. The flight crew hadn’t turned up so they wouldn’t open the plane doors.
We were told that the crew were on another plane which was delayed and had landed over the other side of the airport. We had to wait. So we did. Standing in the tunnel. Mirinda would not have been happy.
Eventually we took our seats and the pilot took us to Edinburgh. It was a smooth and uneventful journey. I watched The Walking Dead and Nicktor slept.
After landing we waited at Arrivals for Nicktor’s colleagues (Phil and Mark S) then I left them to their taxi while I hit the tram line.
And I have to say, the tram was delightful. Okay, it took a while to get to central Edinburgh but the journey was pleasant and the scenery, for the most part, viewable. It was also quite full. Nice to see it being used.
Last week I checked to see if there were any exhibitions on at the Edinburgh art galleries (there’s at least four) that I could visit. And there was. Scottish Women Artists 1885-1965 was on at the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art Two. It wasn’t far from Princes Street so I walked over and bought a ticket.
The weather looks quite threatening in the photo above but it was actually a nice day. Cold but pleasant. What was even more pleasant was the fact that rain and snow had been predicted but neither turned up.
Prior to the exhibition I knew no Scottish women artists of any period. Now that has nicely changed.
The exhibition was Goldilocks perfect – not too big, not too small – and most enjoyable. I did get told off for taking photos (after I’d been taking photos for ages) but otherwise, the whole thing was excellent. Even the eccentric bathroom.
Afterwards I headed across to the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art One to check out the permanent collection. Again, it was very good.
I then went and checked into the hotel, thinking I’d get a few hours snooze before Nicktor and Co were finished with their meeting. So much for that idea. I’d been in the room long enough to remove my shoes and make then drink a coffee when I received a text saying we were meeting for a drink in two minutes.
I sighed, put my shoes back on and went out to meet them.
We were having a quick drink with Mark S. who had to fly back to London. So we did and then walked back to the hotel so Nicktor and Phil could check in.
Again, I thought, we can have a little rest now. But of course not. We were meeting Scottish Mark in 15 minutes in the pub we’d just left.
From there, the evening went like all our Edinburgh nights. The Ensign Ewart, the Kurdish restaurant then back to the Ensign Ewart for a couple of night caps.
The only differences were in the clientele at the pub. We were visited by a merry band of Spanish music students in traditional dress who entertained us with their Spanish songs.
There was the bucks night which included an impressively pot bellied groom dressed in red Lycra and wearing a rather odd wig.
Then, after nine, there was an amazing quartet of youngsters playing some traditional jig type music.
It was a very good day, all up. And none of us descended into the bowels of alcoholic stupor…that’s a first.