I love a train journey, especially a long one in a comfy seat with a table and a nice view over the countryside. It’s exciting, more exciting than a car trip, less annoying than flying, and don’t get me started on coach travel (which isn’t so bad actually, I’ve not done it in a while, but historically I’ve had mixed bags there). Anyway, one journey I was really looking forward to was Kings Cross to Edinburgh. The last time I took this journey was in 1999 with my friend Simon on our way up to Scotland, where we’d join our university’s theatre company at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival after spending a couple of days with his uncle outside Glasgow. This time it was me, my wife and my son on an eight-day adventure around Scotland, this being the first time back since that trip at the end of the 20th century. That was a really long time ago now. Well the countryside hasn’t changed that much, it’s still a lovely view over rolling English countryside, gradually getting lovelier the further north you go, passing by Durham which looks wonderful from the train (though my son and I were playing MarioKart at the time), going right through Newcastle and its bridges over the Tyne, past Lindisfarne off the coast, imagining the Viking raids all those centuries ago, circling around the lovely Berwick upon Tweed, which could be thought of as a little bit of Scotland in England (the football team does play in the Scottish league), and up that dramatic coastline towards Edinburgh itself. I think it’s one of the great train journeys of Britain. The train we were on was terminating at Inverness; that was our final destination as well, but after a week of seeing as much of Scotland as we could fit in. First though, three nights in Edinburgh. Our train journey was pretty pleasant, there was an older guy sat in one of the seats next to me who saw my Spurs top and he was a Tottenham fan, and told me a lot of stories about watching Spurs in the 70s and 80s and watching Ossie Ardiles, of course Ossie was my hero and I loved watching him as a kid myself, down at the Lane. A little later there was an American family with several kids and they were debating over whether the little light above the seat was red or orange, spending quite a long time on the topic, getting other passengers opinions (yeah we really don’t do that in the UK; I was going to say it looked yellow), but I did notice the dad really looking at my Spurs shirt, though he didn’t say anything. A few days later, we actually saw the same family up on Calton Hill, they recognized us, and he did say to me “I remember you were in the Tatt’num jersey!” I considered asking if they settled their argument on whether the small light was orange or red yet. And so, we arrived in Edinburgh, and walked to our apartment where we would spend the next three nights. We were right off the Royal Mile, and it was a walk uphill from the station. On the way, we passed the Old St.Paul’s church on Jeffrey Street, which was (I had almost forgotten) the location of our plays with the QMW theatre company in 1999. A number of barely-remembered memories came dribbling back. Many people whose names I’ve largely forgotten. It was 24 years ago after all, literally more than half my lifetime ago. I did the lighting and sound for three shows, I think it was three, along with Simon. Midsummer Nights Dream was the main one, plus a shorter piece I think was called Fat, by our friend Cuan (good bloke), and then another one which I have completely forgotten, except they used part of this song by Air over and over, and my job there was to turn on the music, and turn it off again, I think about four times in total. It was the only time I did Edinburgh with my uni, it was fun albeit quite drunken at times, there was another theatre company at the same venue who were performing a bizarre version of Ubu Roi, already a bizarre play, which I really loved and consequently got really into the original French version. I remember going out with the cast from that play on a fairly crazy evening. I do have some good memories from that trip, even if so many of them are distant and foggy now. 1999…

It is nice not being in Edinburgh during the Fringe though. The Royal Mile then was a cacophony of people, jugglers, students dressed in silly costumes handing out flyers to their low-budget plays (I was one of them, though I wasn’t acting or performing), and tourists. It was still busy this time, but a lot more mellow than that. The Royal Mile is mostly tartan souvenir shops, whisky shops, and cashmere shops. But there’s a lot of history here, and we really enjoyed being around those tall old stone Edinburgh buildings. Now that I am for all sense and purposes an American, I did wonder if I had to start calling it “Edin-borrow”, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I did however insist that we had to eat haggis. Now I don’t eat it myself because it’s meaty, but they have a vegetarian version now. At the restaurant where we ate dinner, down on the curving Victoria Street, we tried it, my wife getting the original style. I think she liked it, though it was very rich and she couldn’t finish it. I liked mine, though I preferred the Neeps and Tatties that went with it. Oh I do love my Neeps and Tatties. Neeps I supposed were Turnips, though actually what they call turnips in Scotland are more like what they call Rutubaga in America, and Swede in England; English turnips are actually something as bit different. I actually learned this from a podcast I started listening to called “Stories of Scotland”, hosted by Annie and Jenny, and I probably listened to about forty of their episodes while on this trip, and many more since. It’s all Scottish folklore, history, geography, geology and traditions. So, we had our haggis, that’s done now. I brought out my little sketchbook on that first evening’s walkabout, just doing a couple of quick sketches as we stopped. The one below is at Parliament Square, which is on the Royal Mile very close to St. Giles Cathedral, and I recognized this area as the part where The Vision and Wanda Maximoff battled against Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight in Avengers Infinity War (I love that film), before crashing down into Waverley St Station, and getting rescued by Captain America, Falcon and Black Widow. So, a bit like the Royal Mile during the Fringe, then.