Edinburgh and Katie

Train at silly o clock. Got my feet inside just as the doors closed and it left the station. Living on the edge in the third sector. James Bond on a budget.

Edinburgh bound, and even better than that, Grassmarket bound. Edinburgh is nice. It looks nice, it smells nice, history written on every nook and cranny. Well, the bits that us shallow passers by just tick around to see anyway. It's everything Aberdeen isn't but should be. Eau de Edinburgh.

Even better than that, the workshop (Big Data, Yada Yada) finished at 3 so I could slope to Armstrong's vintage. Alas, Armstrong's is not as migraine inducing (in a good over-excited sort of way) as it was when I went there for rummages with Louise as a gothed up indie kid teenager. But it had the same lovely smell. Och, I know, it's probably burned deliberately to overcome the smell of mothballs but i'm trying not to pop my nostalgia bubble.

Now, even better than that, was the chance to meet up with Katie, niece extraordinaire who is studying in Edinburgh for global domination majoring in espionage ninja skills. Being a Scottish Auntie of the wind swept frost bitten North East persuasion, my first duty was to nag her for having an open neck, "where's your scarf young lady??". Secondly, it was to take her for tea and divulge some (just some mind) of my student secrets. And a few family titbits and stories of me and Dave going a courting, like Granda's infamous "Tea, coffee, canabis?" line when he first encountered the then non-bearded but dreadlocked specimen.

Katie is hilarious. Student life has changed so much, and in many ways, it hasn't changed one bit. After being reassured that her neck was usually covered we said our goodbyes in a very unAberdonian manner (hugging), and she went back to sleep off her food (or go out partying, who really knows) while I got ready for another bahookie numbing train journey into the darkness, otherwise known as Pitlochry in January.