{"id":470,"date":"2011-11-10T00:45:00","date_gmt":"2011-11-10T05:45:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2011\/11\/10\/october-29"},"modified":"2015-12-24T17:24:33","modified_gmt":"2015-12-24T22:24:33","slug":"october-29","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2011\/11\/october-29\/","title":{"rendered":"October 29"},"content":{"rendered":"
To those of you who advised me to go to Scotland: YOU WERE SO RIGHT. I get it now.<\/p>\n
In order to get there, I had to endure a bout of verbal abuse from a disgruntled airline employee whom I will henceforth remember as Psycho EasyJet Guy, but I made it. My friends greeted me in Edinburgh with a bag of Mini Cheddars<\/a>, and shortly after, there was a homecooked meal and a long sleep on a very comfortable air mattress, and then I fell in love with Scotland.<\/p>\n Christophe and Gemma, my friends in Edinburgh, are good walkers. I admire that quality. They might say, Let\u2019s go for a walk<\/span>, and you\u2019ll be out for six hours. We spent an entire long weekend that way.<\/p>\n Around midday on Saturday, we walked up Calton Hill<\/a>, stopped for espresso at Artisan Roast<\/a>, and then picked up sandwiches at Broughton Deli<\/a>. I ordered ham, Isle of Mull cheddar, and tomato chutney. It was my first time having chutney on a sandwich, and it will not be my last.<\/p>\n We took our sandwiches to the Water of Leith Walkway<\/a>, and the sun came out while we sat on a bench to eat. Then we continued on to Dean Village, where someone\u2019s laundry waved enthusiastically from a line in a courtyard, and beyond that, to the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art<\/a>. (I would like to live, though probably only for a couple of days, in the studio of Eduardo Paolozzi<\/a>. I would open the blinds, even if I got in trouble for it.)<\/p>\n We walked.<\/p>\n In the early evening, we ducked into the Cumberland<\/a> for a restorative pint. Later, back at home, Gemma made haggis with neeps and tatties<\/a> for dinner. I think she felt silly about trotting out the Scottish national dish for the visiting American, but I wanted to taste it. Christophe made sure that we approached the event with proper solemnity, reading Address to a Haggis<\/a><\/span> over the steaming pots. I cleaned my plate. I was made for Scotland.<\/p>\n<\/a>
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