Edinburgh

The taxis no longer drive into the station from the Waverley Bridge, and the signage to the new taxi rank was hopeless.  We eventually found a hansom that rattled us down to our digs, which are clean and adequate.  Our apartment is in a converted and rather grim looking school in red sandstone (I could just about hear echoes of the crack of the belt as we walked in!), and is an imaginative piece of work, with a mezzanine bedroom on top of the kitchen and bathroom in a section of a tall classroom.  The stair is narrow and steep, but at the time of writing I haven’t yet broken my neck.  Furniture and fittings are spartan, but will do for a few nights.

This morning we got the bus down to Leith to visit HMY Britannia.  The visit alone was worth the journey: fascinating!  The contrast between the sumptuous Royal apartments and the exiguous crew quarters was striking, of course.  Views across to Fife and up the river to the three bridges were spectacular.  We stayed aboard for tea and a scone apiece, then took a long, winding bus ride back to the centre to pick up a hop on/hop off tour bus at Waverley Bridge.  Good route, good commentary, by and large, and a good way to sample a city neither of us knows well.  We lunched in a restaurant just off the Grassmarket - Martyn’s Cullen skink required repeated doses of gaviscon, but my haggis, neeps and tatties were fine, and the main course hake we each had was very good.  We hopped back on the bus for the rest of the route down the bit of the Royal Mile we hadn’t driven up, and off into the elegant New Town.  We’d decided not to brave the crowds in the castle.  After the tour, we walked the length of Princes Street Gardens before catching a bus for a truly serpentine route back to our digs.

Feeling rather tired after our day in town, we opted for a small supper at the flat and an early night.  We shall try a different and more direct bus route tomorrow, at the expense of a longer walk to the bus stop.