When I set out in the creation and writing of this blog I stated that I would do as I pleased. That it would be a place to test ideas, try out styles and say what I wanted to say. No matter how abstract it may seem. I’ve kept to most of these points but have lacked in the trialling and testing of styles and forms. So take this as your formal warning that what follows should be considered akin to a piece of travel writing. Done thesupermundane way.
This week my girlfriend Poppy and I took a short journey far up north to the distant highlands of Great Britain. In particular the chilly climates of Edinburgh, Scotland. We ventured armed with a plethora of recommendations, from persons who had once considered themselves locals of the city, and with little else and no real clue as to what we were heading for, marking our third for the year. With only earlier this year after three years of dating and finally, finally in secure enough financial positions embarked on our first holiday together. A second quickly followed thanks to the fortunate timing of a friends pending nuptials and so this time we took the next logical step; the city break. Oh and what a city it was, filled with history and an absolute smattering of coffee shops and pubs and the architecture of the place kept your head twisting and drawing your eyes up to the heavens.
Unfortunately Poppy, bless her, had a stinking ill-timed, pun not intended, cold. Which was not bettered by the bitingly cold winds that blistered in off the bordering eastern shores. Nor was it eased by the constant and veering in-climbs that made up the streets of Edinburgh. As ever though she soldiered on as we explored the fantastic city taking in the great stand-out staple that is Edinburgh Castle, venturing into its dark dungeons and up to its tallest towers to quite literally take in the crown jewels the country had to offer. We even witnessed the firing of the 1 O’clock gun, that signals, everyday except Sundays and Christmas, when the clock strikes one for all those at sea who clearly have no time-telling device or compass, I suppose. We took in the odd delights of the Gallery of Modern Art which had just unveiled a sweet little exhibit on Andy Warhol, a firm favourite of Poppy’s. We created robots and made waves in the National Museum of Scotland wherein we sought out every form of interactive attraction we could, we lunched in the “Birth place of Harry Potter”, the Elephant House and dined in a quaint but beautiful restaurant which was physically situated under a set of stairs and so aptly named Under the Stairs.
It was a brilliant little trip to a wonderful city and quite possibly a checkpoint for the change to come. For recently Poppy has made an incredible change in direction in terms of her career and in turn her life. With the trip meaning to act as a respite for us both, as she transitioned through courses and for me, well, just to have a break but I don’t think the climbing of hills with a blocked nose and the with inability to breathe freely quite constitutes a respite. However I couldn’t be prouder of her as she ventures further down her path of achieving her goal. She has plenty to look forward but also a hell of a lot of work ahead of her, a statement which she will likely, and correctly, class as an understatement. I’m excited for her and of what will come but it has also made something glaringly clear and that which she herself noted; maybe now is time to focus on me. I’ve been a little adrift of lately, unsure of direction, of coming up with and abandoning idea after idea. Now is time to reset the course and find the purpose. It is incredible what a little jaunt away can do, of exploring other cultures, of having quality time with the person you love, of not having to worry and time to think. So here’s a little thank you to the brilliant city of Edinburgh and to the wonderful Poppy, much love.