From the baronial to the basement

Time to leave Gleneagles. All good things come to an end (little did I know as I set off). A change of trains at Stirling this time for Edinburgh. The thing to know about Edinburgh is to keep to the flat ground. Hills, slopes and cobblestones do me in not to mention the wheels of my suitcases.

There is something very dour about a street decorated with cars but no trees. The second thing to note in Edinburgh is that ‘single room’ means what it says. 

Although one-fifth of the price, this was quite a come down.

It had a lovely view of the laundry – that’s my little window. I had to keep the blind closed on account of passers-by.

Still, you get what you pay for. I managed to venture out for lunch at an Italian restaurant around the corner – Giuliano’s. Their spaghetti was delicious.

Had a look in at the Conan Doyle, but they had haggis on the menu so I took it to be a tourist trap.

Saw a giant’s pedicure,

and settled for dinner at a pub in my own street, but I had to send the steak back because they forgot to cook it – moo.

Yummy dessert.

Getting back to the station was no easy feat, despite wheel repairs to the baggage. I would have gone for a taxi but mini-cabs don’t have credit card machines (in London) so I was a bit sceptical that I’d end up in a fight with a man in a kilt, so I schlepped it – uphill.

I had a very pleasant journey up to London. The lady opposite had her dog (pity we can’t take ours on public transport).

I got an Aussie black-cab driver at Kings Cross Station. Great conversationalist.