The Friday after the election- which I truly believe may come to be known as 'The Day England Fell'- I arrived in Edinburgh at midday. I immediately ran to console Esmond, diehard leftie that he is. We met at Brass Monkey, which I hadn't frequented since Freshers Week of my first year but my feet still knew the way; we chatted, drank, ate and Esmond was fuctionally blinded: pretty standard, really.
On Saturday, I met Bryn for breakfast as Olly Bongo's and had a huge stack of pancakes because I've been having to make do with crepes and they're just not the same, guys. We discussed, of all things, The Crucible, and then I went for some more theatre chat with Jen from D21, who directed Wrapped in an Enigma last year and gave me some feedback on my writing in general, and inspired me to start trying to write a proper, full-length adult play for the first time in ages (which I started doing the next day- slighty more of this later). She also taught me an ancient and secret writing technique which will no doubt put my power-level over 9000.
It was also Rik's birthday and to celebrate we met at probably the poshest restaurant I will ever patronise in my life: The Whisky Society. Due to thematic relevance, we drank thirty year old whisky which has an effect on the throat not dissimilar to when I used to drink washing up liquid. The guests were myself, Johanna, Rosalind, Jari, Stephen and Roz, so it was almost exactly the same crowd as New Year's. The food was just splendid: smoked haddock starter with a breaded quail's egg and asparagus and bacon, then roast lamb chop with spring vegetables and a mini lamb pie main and finally chocolate cremeaux for desert. My one complaint was that they'd conjugated 'cremeaux' as though it was plural, even though 'chocolate' is singular- I decided not to photograph anything as it seemed tacky and this joint was swank, but imagine the mouthwater mousse from that French restaurant and you get a general impression of the deliciousness.
As ever with Rik, there was much good humor and even more wine to help fill in the silences. All the partygoers were on top form and the wit sparkled almost as much as the cutlery; after dinner, we retired to the Conan Doyle for some more booze and then to Johanna's flat for gin because Rik hates my liver for some reason.
I awoke Sunday severely hung over and I faced the hellish choice of whether to blindly stumble to a shop and buy some aspirin or just relieve the pressure in my head through trepanning. I eventually made it outside, and ran into Esmond and his Canadian friend Margot while on the quest for painkillers and it was just gauling because they weren't dying inside and that didn't seem fair. Later, I met Daniel for a drink and an in-depth discussion of the Whedon canon, of which we are both considered and eagre scholars.
On Monday, I had a doctor's appointment which was retroactively brilliant because I turned out to have a clean bill of health but was honestly quite stressful at the time. After that enlightening experience, I went and got ice cream with Rachael, who'd just finished her exams and so was in need of some vitamin R, which you get from Rory, relaxation and rum-and-raisin. Rachael has a bright future ahead of her, and looks to be finishing uni with an exciting idea for what could happen next, so I was very glad I've had a year to get over my insecurities on that front.
In the evening, I met with Henriette and Heather for a catch-up/goodbye drink since Henriette was leaving for Egypt the next day. It's always sad to say goodbye to a friend, but Henriette and I seem to do it so often that it's honestly just become a bit routine: I ordered the girliest drinks in the house while Henriette looked on disapprovingly, we made jokes about the six-part tits and politics mini-series that is her life, and later I followed her around the Chrystal Macmillan building like a lovesick puppy while she packed and got everything ready. It felt heartbreakingly familiar from the million other times we'd done exactly that. But, I've always managed to find Henriette again, no matter how many times we're separated, so I'm confident I can pull off that trick again this time.
Tuesday came and I saw Jen again for more theatre talk at a writer's group which also included Hazel, with whom I did a play in second year and Mark, Jen's husband. This group gave me that invaluable and much-besought commodity for playwrights in the middle of a big project- the chance to hear one's work read aloud by people who know how to act and have a sense of humour.
After this, Jari and I got pizza and sat around feeling fat and talking about our feelings.
The following day, I had to get my lungs x-rayed because sometimes that's how life is. Yet again, everything turned out to be fine so in retrospect this was an unmoving experience but at the time, I was quite uncomfortable. Rachel, Ian, Ailish and I (half of the cast of Emergency General Meeting, in other words) got drinks to celebrate the fact that they'd all finished exams. Only one problem: only Rachel had finished. Ian and Ailish had misread their schedules and wouldn't actually be done until after I'd left. But we had good times anyway, and yet again, I feel these three have bright futures ahead of them, which make graduation drinks so much less awkward. Joe Christie was also there at the start, studying like a loser, and, since I want the maximum amount of views on this post: hi Joe Christie, you get a tag.
When Thursday rolled around, I saw Esmond and Margot again, and this time I didn't want to drive a panza through their head or mine, so it was much nicer. We went to the botanical gardens, which is a briliant space in which to stroll with friends because it's pretty but also full of oddities to fuel conversation, such as an oak tree with a full human name or the bizarrely vague map which listed a 'Chinese Pagoda Thing'.
After this, I met James and Joe Shaw for ciders near the parliament. James and Joe had sort of met before, but not really and so I kind of lazily introduced them and then conducted some very involved and backstory-heavy conversations with each which must have been horribly confusing for the other. Oh well. Joe then had to leave because he's a scientist and that means he needs sleep or something, so James and I moved onto the The Regent, which is the only Real Ale gay pub in Edinburgh and I'll admit I didn't even know such a thing existed.
Then it was Friday, my final day in Edinburgh, and I was to meet Emily in Teviot for brunch. Emily, as she does, attracted others to us, including Victoria, Liam, Alex Dillon and, somewhat oddly, Alex Dillon's grandparents. We went to get ice cream, where she somehow attracted Esmond (and Margot) to us, which marked the fourth time I'd seen that fucker that week. It was beginning to get old. Always refreshingly new, however, was the stilton and grape ice cream I tried, which was just delish. After we were done and Esmond caused me to miss saying goodbye to Alex's grandparents, we retired once more to Teviot and then Daniel came back and we furthered our rhuminations on Whedon's work by contextualising his most recent outings in comparison to his established decretum.
Then I had to run off to perform at a drama cabaret: I jumped on stage, read two poems and was out the door within literally two minutes because I'd been invited to a goodbye dinner with Rik and Johanna. The google map I used was just close enough to accurate that I began to question my senses when it (inevitably) just began to talk smack, still I got to Johanna's in the end and we feasted on bolognaise and then, since Rik was there, there was wine and cartoons- Adventure Time, in costume, no less.
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| The King of Cool. |
We felt the love that night.
We watched everything- the warning about buying inferior pirate copies, the 'coming shortly's, the 'out now on video's and even the bit after the main film which was just buzzing and blackness. It was heavenly- transporting myself back to a time when I watched that video nearly every day and sat dutifully through all those preambles because I genuinely thought I owed it to the Walt Disney corporation. The film itself stood the test of time beautifully and had us laughing, crying and drunkenly singing along (my mother would later describe it as 'artless').
And then today, we spent the day hanging around the house and in the dell in my garden which was just full to the brim with forget-me-nots.
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| And one Poppy. |
But, all good things must end and eventually Poppy climbed onto a train and sped into the distance- the Londony, Londony distance. I don't know when I'll see her again, but it was absolutely lovely to have her here in my home and drinking my booze; it was like being in the meadows again, except
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