After dinner

It is one of the unexpected disasters of the modern age that our new unparalleled access to information has come at the price of our capacity to concentrate on anything much.

I brave Argyll Street at lunchtime to go to the post office. It feels like Xmas shopping is in full swing, but it might always be this busy. There’s a man playing awful, corny electric guitar to a schmalzy recording. Someone else is selling tat, playing along to more gruesome musical drivel on fake drums. Beggars huddle against buildings, shivering under thin blankets.

Eventually it’s time to take the train from Central to Waverley. And then a bus to Annakut on Newington Road where the IF5 are convening for dinner for the first time since June. Garret is appalled that it’s a vegetarian restaurant, but the amazing selection of food wins him over surprisingly easily. Between the South Indian and Punjabi sections nestled a selection of Gudjerati dishes that are phenomenal.

After a wrap up pint at the Mockingbird I head off to Rachel and Gilbert’s in the Stockbridge colonies. I take along the traditional birthday lemon for Rach and a small carry out for anyone that wants it. Helen is also there and we while away the hours in delightful conversation.

Gilbert fades away soon, followed by Helen. I eventually call time in the wee hours and grab some sleep on a mattress in the living room.