Edinburgh is an extraordinary city. Even from here in the suburbs, you can see the castle and, of course, Arthur's Seat, the huge green hill that mocks Edinburgh's formality with its permanence. The shifting weather throws up different nooks and crannies every second. Spring shrubs blossom and fade in what seems like seconds. Tourists on Princes Street are caught in ferocious summer rain showers that drench their t-shirts. Old-fashioned bars squat next to newsagents plastered with notices and advertisements and vintage shops trace a map from charity shops just two doors away.
Chichi coffee bars are so laid back that nobody gets served, and the silver-haired elderly dart around, going about their daily business as they have done for decades.