Soup toastie

When we arrived in the city of Edinburgh, I loved it. We have been before - when we were younger, less creased and everything. The remembered city wasn't like this though. All soup in a basket, bright lights, noise and a mile of tat. Might have been more than a mile of that tat but we didn't stay there long to find out. I didn't want a Tam o Shanter with false ginger hair or a Edinburgh tea-towel or whatever pile of tat 'stuff' they seemed to be trying to sell in that road.

We tried to be tourists. I even asked at the Tourist Information how one becomes a proper tourist. We had a map after all but it really didn't cut the mustard - or whatever one says these days.

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The cityscape was not always as expected too - as we sat on the top level of the bus going from here to there. And people; too many people everywhere.

We were amazed by the book sculptures though. Lovely things to behold and well worth the trawl down to see them - past Holyrood where a man was threatening to jump off a balcony at the time. Can't really blame him as the place doesn't do it for me. Throwing oneself to ones demise over it is a bit drastic though.

But I did rather like these lights in this square somewhere in the city. Lovely as they swayed in the breeze changing colours as they did so. I liked that.