When I first landed on this side of the globe in 1998, I spent quite a bit of time in Scotland. I kept drifting back to the Scottish capital, Edinburgh, which had a mysterious kind of hold on me. It was something to do with the gothic feel of the city, assisted by the mists which often lasted all day, clinging to the granite buildings and the cobbled Royal Mile.
When I returned for a one-day visit in October 2002, which was then these pictures were taken, the sun was out and the place seemed less oppressive than I remembered it.
When I returned for a one-day visit in October 2002, which was then these pictures were taken, the sun was out and the place seemed less oppressive than I remembered it.
I almost died of excitement the first time I saw and heard a real life piper performing in the streets. Little did I know this bloke (or a bunch of pipers on a rota system) occupied this little corner of the Royal Mile, pandering to tourists like me, for days at a time. The novelty soon wore very thin.
I almost died of excitement the first time I saw and heard a real life piper performing in the streets. Little did I know this bloke (or a bunch of pipers on a rota system) occupied this little corner of the Royal Mile, pandering to tourists like me, for days at a time. The novelty soon wore very thin.
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