Category Archives: Life reflections

An Inauspicious Beginning, but hey, she didn’t Jump

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Up a little late, we burned the toast on Barbara and Oliver’s aga, but managed not to set off the fire alarm. (If you’ve never toasted bread on an aga, basically you lift the cast iron cover over the hot plate, set the bread down, wait 30 seconds, turn it over, and take it off. You do not walk away to do something else, allowing the plate to fall onto the bread and smoosh it into burning within 5 seconds. So now you know.)

All the luggage and all the people (just three of us but if felt like moving a people caravan) up the steep staircase to street level and off we went to the tram stop.

Where I looked up to behold a young girl walking across a rooftop peak, like a tightrope walker in a hoodie.

When she had perched herself on the gable end of the house, nothing between her and the street but about 20 feet of air, she realized I was watching her and made a “get lost” gesture with her arm. A big gesture that made her teeter for a second.

I made a “you don’t want to do this” gesture with my hands. She put her hands to her eyes and indicated she was looking at the view, not contemplating ending it all.

Trying to hold a conversation without words across 400 feet width and three stories height is tricky, different cultures notwithstanding. I tried to vibe “I understand you are not planning to jump but I also understand that it rained last night, you are wearing cheap sneakers with slick soles, and you are clearly not yet old enough to drive, so even though you are not intending to commit suicide, you are in danger and no view is worth that. Get down at once. I do not know you but I care what happens to you, and I suspect other people do too even if you don’t think so.”

Again, complex ideas can be difficult to convey by mind meld, so the girl repeated the swatting gesture. I raised my cell phone. “Come down or I dial 999.” Maybe a simpler message would penetrate.

She put what I think was a cigarette back in her pocket and recrossed the peak, one foot in front of the other, moving so swiftly, I wondered if my interference would be the cause of her demise. One intends to do good, but…..

The tram pulled up just as she reached the ladder at the far end of the second house and descended. Probably cursing the interfering bitch at the bus stop, but she lived to curse another day. And maybe had some things to think about. Who knows?

Well, it was an interesting start to ten days of looking after people. We reached the overcrowded airport and quickly located Maria, looking pale and strained and close to panic. She had arrived late, getting in at 1 am from Paris (singing with a choir there) but her luggage had not. Operating on five or so hours of sleep sans suitcase, Maria was trying to bear up bravely, but I could see her full tuning fork quiver shimmering below the surface. We called some numbers that were supposed to help her track the suitcase, figuring it was in the airport someplace, but they did not work. Perhaps it’s policy to give people fake numbers—cuts down on complaints.

Meanwhile we found Zahnke, party of three easily and located the Meadors, looking mildly intimidated by the crush of people pouring off planes in this compact yet horrifically busy airport. My all time worst airport is Toronto, but Edinburgh might run second. The Meadors wanted Out Of There. So did we all.

Our hope that Maria’s suitcase waited in that scrum someplace was quickly dashed by being told in baggage claim, in a Scottish accent so it didn’t sound quite so mean, to get ourselves gone, they weren’t looking for anything right now, someone would deliver it to the hotel if it did arrive.

I didn’t like the way that man said “if,” but off we went.

This was only the first three hours of the first day, which was so eventful we’re going to pause here and pick up tomorrow. With such an inauspicious beginning, where could we go but up?

Edinburgh: City of Culture and Charity Shops

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The Day Before the Tour Started

After a restorative night’s sleep (jet lag favors those flying West) we had a nice breakfast of tea and toast at Barbara and Oliver’s, then Cassidy and I hit some thrift stores.

Yes, Edinburgh is full of culture, architecture, and history. It also has some kick butt charity shops (as they are called) and I know where every single one of them is. Cassidy and I started in Stockbridge, strolling there with Jack along the Leith River Walk via a shady tunnel of greenery. Jack normally doesn’t care for walking, but that one through Dean Village (a historic part of Edinburgh) was lovely. We parked him with a pot of tea at a bakery and pillaged Stockbridge. It was most satisfying.

Jack and I had a family lunch at a French institute restaurant just that little bit off the beaten path (read: not six people per square inch like the rest of the High Street.)  We aimed Cassidy at the Victoria Bow (famous for historic shops, the oldest Quaker meeting house in Scotland, and the Harry Potter store) and enjoyed catching up on family with my beloved sister-in-law Alison and with Alison and Jack’s cousin Donald, the family historian. He had brought us six pages of family tree. (Alison brought us t-shirts, Jack’s quoting the famous declaration of Arbroath paragraph, mine warning people of my easy distraction via books and cats. Nailed it.)

Cassidy and I found each other again outside St Giles cathedral, and the weather being less changeable than the day before, we crossed one more thing off her bucket list: the ascension of Arthur’s Seat.

(FYI there are four Arthur’s seats in the United Kingdom, one in each country that makes it up. Convenient for tourism that way. Each claims to be his final resting place. We also have six graves of Robin Hood. But only one Nessie.)

You used to be able to drive up this massive mound, but now it’s on foot or forget it. Halfway up, we considered “forget it” but we were leapfrogging with a group of five German lads. When they passed us one of them would shout “Come on girls.” When we passed them we would give thumbs up signs. We all made it to the top, where we collapsed for a few minutes before the requisite photos. There really is a beautiful view up there, all the way to the sea. Cassidy picked a few flowers to preserve in her phone case.

Down was easier. We headed into Edinburgh and saw Greyfriar’s Bobby (the statue dedicated to a loyal dog). Cassidy works for a vet practice. She had carefully looked up the “best hot chocolate in Scotland” which was .4 from Greyfriar’s Bobby, so we found it easily (the line wrapped around the corner). She had cocoa, I had gelato. Neither of us worried about the calories, having just climbed Arthur’s Seat. Life was good. The seagull who got the last bit of my cone when the double-scooper of almond amaretto and Belgian chocolate raspberry defeated me also had a good time.

We had logged 9.25 miles according to this thing in Cassidy’s wrist, so we headed back to BnO, stopping for a charity shop or two, but our hearts weren’t in it; our aching feet overruled them. Since it was nearing suppertime, I asked Cassidy did she want to pick up groceries, raid BnO’s fridge, or avail ourselves of the world class international cuisine available in Edinburgh, many of which we would pass on the way back to BnO’s place.

She wanted a fish supper. We went back to the chippy by BnO’s.

That evening we chatted with Mark, who again kept us laughing, and enjoyed the sunken garden out back. The tour started tomorrow, so it was early to bed, knowing we had a big day tomorrow meeting the gang and starting the travel in earnest.