Closed

In retrospect, it wasn't all that wise after a night of hostel 'sleep' to walk two miles in the warm morning to the start of the walk we'd planned. But it was good to stumble across Beachcomber in Rose Street, a very watery poem by George Mackay Brown made into metal by Astrid Jaekel. (Images and text here.)

We carried on getting distracted, by a small art gallery, by alternative routes, by the roofs and chimneys of what we realised later, when we were back at its ground level, was Dean Village (extra), by the stones in the walls, by sculptures in the garden of the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art... So by the time we found the steps behind the gallery to the Aids Memorial Garden and the start of our walk, our feet knew what was coming. The plan was to walk down the Water of Leith past six Antony Gormley statues to Leith docks and to meet MrFT somewhere en route. Within minutes of me texting him to say where we were, he and his bike had teleported to join us. He was a great guide but after four Gormleys  (his extra shows my viewpoint for my second extra) Secondborn had caught the sun and we were both wilting. The nearby cafes were photogenic but closed so instead we jumped on a bus to Portobello for Secondborn to participate in a training course and for me to go to the blipmeet.

Of one! No matter - the evening light over the sea was magic.