Shopping

Yesterday we found ourselves treating the city as if we were at home - avoiding crowds, visiting the Botanics… Today, however, I was on a mission to acquire some watercolour brushes for myself as well as some decent paper to practice painting on. Armed with a shopping list provided by Paddy my teacher and accompanied by Himself who at least knew where the shop was, we boarded a bus with no real certainty as to where we’d end up. The driver agreed that it wasn’t really the right bus and suggested we get off when he did, at the driver changeover point in Leith Walk…

Leith Walk is a nightmare. Tram works, road closures and vanished pavements make life for the hapless pedestrian well nigh impossible. We sucker opportunistically into a piano shop, emerging half an hour later resolved just to keep walking. The Bruges*/Bridges were another nightmare, but we found ourselves in the third circle of hell that is High Street. Think tour groups, a man creating multiple bubbles with what looked like a giant string of beads, the obligatory piper, an over-amplified lassie crooning to a guitar, another man doing traditional sleight of hand tricks to an admiring crowd, determined young men with rucksacks and aimlessly wandering women in strange dresses … and us.

But my blip is of the haven that is Greyfriars Art Shop. Himself says it hasn’t changed in sixty years. I spent quite a lot of money. The tattooed girl who helped me succinctly deterred a group of at least six people from crowding in, and we were grateful. We found a bus home by trekking down to George Street.

Tonight we ate in another good eatery, The Pier on Newhaven Harbour. Holidays are for consuming what others have cooked, preferably well. I’m having a holiday!


*Spellcheck madness