A Weekend In Edinburgh


I’m typing this at Edinburgh airport with one eye on the queue to my departure gate. I cba to stand in the queue so I’m sitting in the uncomfortable airport chairs with plans to join at the last minute. I’m really not fussed at being the last person on the plane. My flight it delayed and the EasyJet staff are delaying it further but insisting people combine their luggage. I know there’s a one-item-of-hand-luggage only guys but does it really matter if her tiny cross-body bag isn’t in her main bag. BOTH BAGS ARE GOING ON THE PLANE EITHER WAY.

This shouldn’t annoy me as much as it does but I can’t control it. This is why I’m not a fan of flying and I feel it’s probably best if G just sedates me for our entire flight to New York *insert eye roll emoji*.

I may be a tad tired and irritable.

Anyway, my weekend in Edinburgh.

I love Scotland (do you really need to leave the UK guys?), and I particularly love Edinburgh. So I was pretty darn smug when one of my best friends decided to go to university here. His choice was defs influenced by my holiday desires I’m sure. I think this is my 6th visit to the city, and my 4th trip visiting my friend so hats off to him for still finding new things to do and new adventures for us to go on.

This time round I was introduced to the National Museum of Scotland and Cramond Island, ate a huuuuuge slice of cake at a food market and drank cocktails in the dreamiest of underground bars (the door was a bookcase; just sayin’).

I also wandered around the Royal Mile clutching a peppermint tea like the hip happening person I am, got a sneaky peak at JK Rowling’s house and got photobombed by a random Scottish guy who looked way too pleased with himself.

Some photos:



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