The People Speak (in people-speak)

True to predictions, a pair of Americans came through Edinburgh yesterday. We went to pub last night, and found a dark joint with live jazz. Today, one of them went home early, and the other and I went to see the Scottish National Gallery, which comes in three flavors: New, old, and portraits. We skipped portraits, and went to the other two. I was quite moved by one of Rembrandt’s self-portraits. Aside from that, I had a great time reading the signs about the religious paintings. Saint stories and symbolism are things I should learn more about.

Talking to the visitors about their plans made me more excited to make my own. I hear there’s a really cool park here with a big hill—I plan on climbing that tomorrow with my camera. (I remember that I’ve forgotten my camera every time I see a beautiful building, which is pretty often—so you’d think I’d remember soon enough.) That climb will also give me some reason to have eaten as much pasta as I ate today. YUM.

The kitchen saw more use today. Most people just heat stuff up from cans. One guy insisted on eating his dinner out of the pot he cooked it in. The hostel provides many plates, I don’t know what he has against them.

I’m using my computer in the dining room outside the kitchen, which features a vending machine. (Actually, it features two, and the second is another thing I can’t forget to take a picture of: A pop machine, it says on the front, Thirst for Knowledge, and pasted over that is an 8x11 that says, Out of Order. OK, maybe I don’t have to take a picture of it now.) I think there’s a youth soccer team staying here now, maybe more than one, and their players keep coming in and buying many bags of chips (known here as ‘crisps’--’chips’ are fries). I’m glad I’m old enough to know to ask where the grocery store is. Go away, children!

Oh, my latest visitor in this room is one of the chaps from Leeds. He says he’s just been in ‘West End’: “I don’t know where that is, but it’s where we’ve been.” Also, “Very dear drinking there”--has anyone heard this expression in the States, ‘dear’ for ‘expensive’? I’ve heard it a lot here, first in the mouths of my hosts in Gloucester. That meaning comes naturally from the etymology of the word as we use it, that’s why I ask.

He’s been joined by the old man who sleeps a lot. It’s like a room party. I’ll liveblog their conversation, if possible.

I says to my mate, I’m gonna get fish and chips if it kills me.
Where’d you get ‘em?
Just round the corner. Five pound fifty. [He told me, “At ‘ome; two pound fifty.”]

Well, I’d liveblog this if I could understand it. They’re talking about where the best fish and chips are found. Northern Scotland, one says. The other says he’s had great shark and chips. “The shark are lovely.” Now they’ve moved on to fishwives. I think the sleeper is an old Scot. He’s eating sausage and chips, and talking about how once he was in some place where he and mates couldn’t get into some pubs, because the men of the place wanted to kill the strangers, but the fishwives didn’t mind them.

The Leeds fellow comes back from pub and has coffee, and then goes to bed. This is his ritual, as far as I have seen. He and his coworker go home tomorrow, he told me, so maybe tonight was a bigger night out than usual, necessitating the late meal. “I’m about to go home to kids and wife tomorrow,” he just now said.

I guess my company is leaving. I hope you’ve enjoyed this scene from Edinburgh. It’s what I’m here to bring you, my fair readers and four followers.