It Rained On His Parade

What a pity it had to rain on his parade.

After a lovely morning, the showers swept in from the west over Corstorphine Hill and reached the Mound just 15 minutes before the start of Chris Hoy's triumphal cavalcade from the City Chambers to the Assembly Rooms to receive the freedom of the City of Edinburgh.

Nonetheless the crowds were pressed against the barriers as far as the eye could see from the High street to Princes Street and beyond with waterproof hoods and umbrellas in attendance.

We stood in the rain to salute our most famous Olympian, a local Watson's boy done good, elevated to prodigious athletic heights on a machine with two wheels. More important is the fact that he is a genuinely nice guy and a great advertisement for athletics in Scotland and Britain.

Standing next to me at the corner of the Mound was an older couple from Lisburn in Northern Ireland. They were surprised that I knew the town, having visited it in the mists of time before 'The Troubles', when my then father-in-law was promoted to a post in Ireland. They thought they recognised his name and certainly knew his old address.
It really is a very small world.