Crazy What You Could've Had
Edinburgh. Thursday. Boyd's Entry.
We went out. You have to go out if you don't want to stay
in, and we didn't want to stay in. Good. There was a
Sainsbury's up the way, and we stopped for a couple of
sandwiches (well, I did. Didi llew had a melon
bowl....well, 3 pieces of it) notable only for the fact
one of them wasn't tuna salad like all the others I had.
There's a really narrow range of sandwiches for
vegetarians, very few vegetable based sarnies, and all the
cheese ones tend to be cack. After I've set up my 'Beast
and Object' pub chain, that'll be my goal.
Anyway, we went to the castle, and sat by a shattered
bottle. It is not unfair to say that the shattered vodka
bottle was still there 24 hours later, and even less
unfair to say that we kept visiting it.
Didi wasn't drinking due to his illness, so I got choice
of pubs. I'm always up for a McEwan's. (God gave Scotland
so many good things... those sexy accents, Gordon
Strachan, canniness, more cricket clubs than rugby
clubs...but McEwan's is the best) I couldn't find one on
Princes Street. Or indeed, a pub. So we moved off, to
somewhere else, down Holyrood Road. Apparently the
Scottish Parliament is there. We didn't see that. We saw
Boyd's Entry and photographed it. We found a pub with a
dripping plant outside and very cute short-haired barmaid
inside, so Didi could drink the MoM he'd got earlier
(Special entry for that story) inconspicuously around the
corner, as I could...well, seeing as he knacked off round
the corner for our seats, I couldn't perv over the
barmaid. Probably for the best.
One pub done, we had to move onto the next. Easier said
than done. Where did we go to? Well, that's another story.