Day 75: Out Of The Mist (Edinburgh)

Today Pin and I took the train to Edinburgh.  It was the first time I've done so from Airdrie on the 'new line'.  We made it just in time and got settled for the journey, while I wrote my morning pages and Pin scribbled away in her little notebook.  After a few stops I glanced out the window and pointed out to Pin that the fog was coming in, as I've said before, not on little cat feet but on heavy tiger paws. It covered everything.  The dark ground contrasted with the white, misty sky (it feels strange to call it 'sky' when it's completely obscured, really); and the trees were just a vague suggestion rather than defined, stand-alone items.  It was the kind of fog that hangs around all day - not just an early morning mist that is whisked away and by the afternoon you're walking in bright sunshine and feeling like you're in a new country, but the deep, heavy fog that is weighed down by its troubles and wants to bring you down, too.

We resisted, though, and enjoyed thoroughly our walk through the gardens near Princes Street - eschewing the roads filled with businessmen and those intent on their purpose, harried-looking mothers with prams, giggling teenagers, and lost tourists.  We did run into two lost tourists who asked us in a slight accent how to get to the Castle.

"Well, it's right there," I said, pointing to what looked like to them, absolutely nothing.  "I assure you it is there, and the easiest way to get there is to walk to the next traffic lights, turn right, and wind your way up the road until the Castle is on your right."

They stared at me.  "But can't we just - " one of the girls gestured vaguely towards what I had proclaimed WAS a Castle, clearly doubting my word - "go up that way?"

I tried not to laugh.  "Well, you'd need good rock climbing equipment, and I'll tell you - there are many armies who tried it and weren't successful, so I wouldn't suggest it."

They just stared at me.

"Really, you're better going this way," I pointed, and explained again clearly which way to go. 

They thanked me, but I had the feeling that it was the kind of thanks that you give when you either don't believe or don't like the advice you've been given and decide you'll wait till the first person you asked is out of sight so you can go up to another and get a second opinion.

Pin and I carried on, enjoying the mist and the fog and the general lack of other human beings around - everything was so quiet and the world seemed stopped in time as we passed through the gardens.

Up close, water droplets sparkled on the trees; tiny buds are beginning to form, the hope of spring in miniature; and the colours were an odd combination of grey, silver, and green.  We came up the other end and found the Starbucks we were seeking, and as we did, I saw one of the lost tourists coming out.  (I recognised her by the leopard-print fake Ugg boots.)

"They decided to get a second opinion," I said sadly to Pin, shaking my head.

"Maybe they only needed coffee for the journey," she suggested hopefully.

We wish you the best, lost tourists!

Walk length: 45 minutes