Travel has become so stressful. Much as the only joy in life is to, well, get away from your own, the trauma of entering an albeit beautiful country but where people look at you funny because your skin has olive undertones is becoming a bit much. There I was in London, the only city I would live in if people didn't look at me funny, just basking in the even footpaths, the gorgeous stone buildings, train journeys with clean and comfortable trains, an intricate and thoroughly efficient subway system, (I mean there are count 'em TWO railway personnel just standing at every single tube station waiting to answer questions from tourists, what), knowledgeable staff at boutiques, cafes, pharmacies, I've never been so happy. What people in developed nations take for granted is what we in developing (and developing because no one gives a shit, not because we can't, never because we can't) nations stand in awe before; like walking down a sweet alley and emerging into the face of a gothic cathedral which turns out to be a government building, it's all too, too painful because they will only be memories. But I enjoyed it while it lasted. Love London but loved Scotland more, people look at you less funny, and it's so beautiful it looks like illustrations from a book have come alive. And it's there, free, just to please its citizenry. Too, too painful.
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| Fish and chips, steak pie, mandatory at George IV, Edinburgh |
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| Royal Botanical Gardens, Edinburgh |
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| Best cider ever, discovered at the George IV |
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| A man dedicated this to his late wife, hoping she's enjoying the botanicals wherever she is now, Edinburgh |
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