Postcard from Edinburgh – the hotel

Last year we were in an apartment ten minutes walk from the centre of town. You came out the front door, walked up to the street (basement flat), then it was a ten minute walk into the centre of the city, as the noise and bustlee and hurly-burly built round you. It was a lot like walking slowly into the sea, but without that whole ‘water reaches the genitals ouch ah’ moment.

The hotel was on the Royal mile and stepping out the front door was like stepping onto a moving car of a roller coaster. Barely had one cleared the door when a leaflet was thrust in your face. Shit, these people know where I live…do I have to go and see their show about, er, global warming expressed through dance.