Hi, all. I’m sitting down to write from my Edinburgh watering hole. When Brian and I first went to view our flat, we walked past a comfortable looking pub not four or five doors down from our flat entrance. One of us surely said, “That looks like a pub that we’ll be spending a fair amount of time at.” As it turns out, this has been the case. The Thistle Street Bar …
… is perfect with its size, ambiance, wi-fi access, selection of ales on tap, and staff. The pub attracts locals who live in the New Town area of Einburgh. An ideal place to have a pint and relax. From the door of my flat to the door of the Thistle Street Bar, I walk less than thirty seconds. So, you can’t complain about its location.
I don’t sit down to write tonight with any profound thoughts. Really, I don’t have much (I don’t think). But, I’ll share with you some realizations or thoughts I’ve had in the past couple days.
I worked 9 – 5 today at the pub. I mean, with hours like that, I’m essentially your typical businessman. I arrive to the pub at nine to get things ready for the day and open the doors at ten. While Deacon’s attracts, for the most part, tourists, we do have a selection of regulars and random Scottish folk that come in for a pint. Deacon Brodies is situated directly across from the High Court of Justiciary of Scotland. Considering this, in addition to having lawyers who stop in for a pint or two over their lunch hours, we have Kiran who is – from what I can gather – a freelance photographer. He spends some of his day hanging around outside of the courthouse taking pictures and the rest of his day at the pub drinking pints of Tennents Lager (I decided today it’d be a fun experiment to try and hang around Deacon’s all day and drink pint for pint with him … I’m not certain I could do it). I digress. I think the point of this paragraph was this realization about individuals who come to the pub in the late morning:
Any time you’re greeted by the barman at your local pub with, “Good Morning,” you might have a problem.
Now, on to a word of advice. If you ever find yourself tending bar in Edinburgh the Sunday after the Scotland – England match of the Six Nations Rugby Tournament, never grant a drunk, burly man wearing a kilt permission to do the splits on the bar. Kilts are amazingly commonplace in Scotland. I guess I didn’t think much about them before arriving, but I guessed them to be a traditional piece of dress from the past. Not so. Scotsmen wear kilts for most formal events. Or, in the case below, whenever they’re out hiking with a sword.
Sunday night, the rugby fans who filled Edinburgh were still continuing to party. Much like the Hawkeye fans who continue to party Saturday night after a Hawkeye football win (even though they have been up since 5am drinking), the Scottish – and English for that mater – continued to drink. One of these lifers dressed in a kilt was in Deacon Brodies Sunday night and asked me, “You think I can get on the bar and do the splits?” Not expecting him to be serious, I mistakenly answered, “Sure.” Five seconds later, the man was making his way up on the bar to do the splits. Somehow, myself and the other girl behind the bar were able to convince him to get off before he completed the act (and nearly set his kilt on fire).
I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it, but the weather in Edinburgh is, well as they say rubbish. The wind is nearly always blowing. Most shocking is its propensity to change at the drop of a hat. I was in my flat yesterday afternoon when I thought I heard the door being unlocked. I deemed this as impossible as Brian is in Ireland visiting his parents, but seconds later, a man in a suit walked into my flat. As it turns out, he was a surveyor coming to survey? my flat as it is for sale. Really great guy. The conversation we had made my day. Older guy who after finding out my short-term life story (graduated in May, decided to delay getting a real job, traveling and working, etc), proceeded to tell me about his days traveling the US, Indonesia, and Australia. Anyway, we were talking about Edinburgh, and in addition to many other old-man wise things he told me, he said if you don’t like the weather in Edinburgh, wait five minutes, and it will change.
How true that is. This, I tell you, is not a lie. In the course of my eight hour shift at the pub today, Edinburgh had blue skies, rain, overcast skies, freezing rain, and about everything in between. Every time I looked out the window, the weather changed.