Marching the mile

Groggily I pack away the folding bed, stumble outside, and begin my journey home. Bus to bus station, then to west Linton, and a third home. On the way I acquire a limited edition, sweet potato pakora and beetroot daal sandwich. Interesting.

Turn around time at home is short. Ablutions for me, feed for the chooks, and then back to Edinburgh. I get to Holyrood just as the march is scheduled to start, but as expected timings are not exact when there are thousands of people involved. Still, it gives me time to find Boron and crew.

Lots of old friends. Ewan and Cath are down from Stromeferry. Kirsty, Kaitlin, and Ziggy are all with us, which is really nice to see. Clive and hound accompany us for a while. Henri is playing music outside Parliament. Mandy from Traquair overtakes us on the mile.

It’s drizzling. A few of us take a short refreshment break at one of the many purveyors of fine ales along the route. And then, a couple of hours later we’re shuffling into a noisy, muddy Meadows. There’s music playing, but we want to sit and talk.

So, a restaurant/bar that doesn’t mind a crew of varied ages that only want drinks. And then we were four. Ewan and Cath checking to their hotel in Pilrig Street, before we all head for a stonking curry at the Golden Ambal on Leith Walk.

I leave to join mike and his pals at The Hanging Bat. A swift half later and I’m in my way home. I’m looking forward to a long lie in.