It took her about 2 minutes to feel at home in Edinburgh.
The B&B was perfectly located, just off the Royal Mile, and the hostess was friendly. It is very easy to find your way and the city centre is compact enough to get around on foot.
She decided to go for the Castle right away, it was still sunny and according to the weather broadcast, it wasn’t too sure it would stay that way the rest of the weekend. The quest for this weekend was clear: find the location where this scene of Gideon’s Daughter has been shot. What? Yes, she thought it could be fun to actually have some kind of photographic goal this weekend, as it would force her to keep her eyes open. So …
Edinburgh castle is an impressive building. The Castle stands upon Castle Rock, which is a left over of another extinct volcano from a long time ago (some 340 million years ago). The rock is standing 121.92 metres above sea level, so imagine the view that gives you. You could see all over Edinburgh, you could see the sea and the beginning of the highlands. It was beautiful, she got her pictures in sunshine and while she was convinced that the quest was going to be easy, visit the castle, find the location and take the picture – the castle turned out not to be the right spot.
After a long first day, they rest their legs in the cinema watching Pirates, with Davy explaining that he really isn’t that cruel in real life. She told him not to worry, she knew that already. And watching Davy Jones in Scotland on a big screen somehow made sense to her.
The icing on the cake for that day was the in-cre-di-bly nice Scottish local Edinburgish taxi driver that brought her home from the cinema. No he didn’t take cards. As she had walked to something that felt like at World’s End to find the cinema, she asked him how much it would be to get her back to Blackfriars street. Oh, about 5 pounds he said. That was all she needed to hear, she stepped in.
He was very friendly and charming and his Scottish accent made her ears jump. She kept inventing questions just to hear him talk, and luckily he was a very talkative person. He told her about Edinburgh, asked what she was going to see in his city. She told him Holyrood Palace and the parliament and things like that. He told her that, even though he was born in Edinburgh, he had never visited the Palace. She said that that was typical, people often don’t visit places in the cities they live in themselves. He agreed. He recommended her to take one of the tour buses, as you can hop on hop off all day wherever you want, and it was cheaper than taking the taxi. She told him that that was a great idea. He said that he was undermining his own business as a taxi driver by telling her this, but he did anyway. She told him that it was very nice indeed that he had told her.
He kept her informed of why he was taking some particular streets: there were some road works going on in the city so he had to take this route. She said that he didn’t need to worry about it as she didn’t really know the way in Edinburgh anyway. He said that he just wanted to tell her so she wouldn’t think he was cheating on her by taking a longer route. All this in Scottish of course. She was about to melt on the back seat of his taxi and was wondering if she should ask him to marry her when he’s 70 and has nothing to lose. Or say something like:
“Look, you wouldn’t care, perhaps, to meet again
for a coffee or a bite to eat or something,
They arrived at Blackfriars street much quicker than she wanted and she shortly considered spending some more pounds to have him drive her around in the city a bit longer. For some reason she did not end up doing this. Being back in London sitting behind her computer at work where the hours feel like days and where the mist is slowly swallowing the landscape – she wonders what that reason was. And the word stupidity comes to mind.
Because oh yeah baby – talk
dirty sexy Scottish to me …