Portobello

There’s no getting away from it, the friend I’m with in Edinburgh is quite poorly.  She has a cold and a temperature and feels a bit rotten. We have a leisurely breakfast at the hostel and then get the bus to Portobello- some sea air will do her good.
What a fantastic place it is.  We didn’t get any sunshine, but neither did it rain. 
The main blip is of things we found on the beach: a scallop with barnacles, then an oyster with marks where the barnacles used to be, and also a  very fine white mesh like creature, which is a thing called Bryozoam - I hope you can see, it’s very small. Next is a sea mouse, actually a marine worm, it’s quite big, at least 4 inches long. Finally the inside of an empty spider crab shell, what a lovely colour it is. 
We found a lovely friendly cafe called the Printworks and had a good lunch there. Then a little walk along the front where we found the last remaining kiln of the Buchan Thistle pottery factory, and a recently made display of the various designs which a team of women used to hand paint on the pottery. The factory closed in the 70s. See first extra. 
The second extra is of things I saw and liked. Always wonderful to be beside the sea, even if it’s grey. Next is a little community garden by the beach,  with some columns save from a grand place called Argyle House, now demolished. I was pleased to see the method for making the columns (using a mould to press on the pattern) was invented by a woman called Eleanor Coade at the start of the 19th century:). I liked the front window of this house we passed, I’ve only shown part, in the hope you can read it.  I especially like the Jewish and Palestinian young people arm in arm. Finally, I included the charity shop as, from following the clues, I think it might be where blipper Edisteve works.  Funny because the Oxfam shop in Bristol where I volunteer is also in Regent Street. 
We got home - I mean back to the hostel - mid afternoon, and F slept for much of the rest of the day. I read most of my book, really unputdownable, In Memoriam by Alice Winn. I also caught up with the Archers, which sounds odd in Scotland somehow:)