Saturday 7th September Arriving in Edinburgh

‘Welcome Week’ at Edinburgh University begins in September. I had my first ‘fresher’s Week’ in 1984–exactly 40 years ago, which is a nice round number. In case you’re interested, I don’t feel so very different, though perhaps I am worried about different things. In 1984, I worried that perhaps no one would like me, and whether I would manage to maintain my relationship with my new boyfriend, what would happen if they realised I wasn’t really clever enough to be there, and what if I was murdered. This time, I am worried less about what people might think about me (I’m old enough to be their mother, so it doesn’t matter if they don’t like me, though I hope that they will) and my ‘new boyfriend’ has now been my husband for many decades and came with me (maybe to check I wasn’t murdered, but mainly just for the fun of it). I am still worried though that someone will realise that I am not really clever enough to be here. Part of me doesn’t care—I am here because I have enjoyed studying theology with a passion and I want to continue—but managing to get a PhD would also be nice.

The train drivers unhelpfully went on strike, so we caught a train from Euston to Glasgow, and then a different train (from a different Glasgow station) to Edinburgh. The walk through Glasgow was quite exciting, with protestors and crowds and lots of police, including some on horses. Perhaps Husband would be needed to stop me getting murdered after all!

We arrived in Edinburgh and walked to ‘Hot Toddy’ for coffee. This is the only place I know, because it’s where my supervisor has suggested we all meet for a social gathering next week. It seemed nice, so we booked a table for dinner before walking to our Airbnb.

We have rented a flat in Grassmarket. It has a red door, and then is on the third storey, up lots of wide winding stairs. There’s no lift, and I have a dodgy back, so I worried Husband might not manage to carry up all the luggage, but he’s fitter than he looks, so we were fine. The flat is old, with sloping floors and peeling paint and wonderful views. It’s not the cleanest flat I have stayed in, but it’s good enough. It will do. The kitchen is well equipped, and it will be somewhere for me to hide when I am not doing scary new-student things and trying to look intelligent. (Actually, I don’t think I can manage to look intelligent, so I will just smile at people, and try not to talk too much, as I have learnt this is a good strategy in life,)

When we first planned to come, we had assumed there would be very little university stuff planned, so it would mainly be a week of tourism. But then my timetable arrived, and I had lots of seminars over 10 days. One difference with being an older student, is that I like to plan. It seems that 18 year-olds don’t think about university until they get here, so the university does not bother to tell you things very far in advance. Now I am older, I have to do things like organise someone to feed the chickens and sort out the goose and dog. Hence we had booked our train and flat as soon as we knew when term started, but before my timetable arrived. As Husband was not invited to the seminars (that would be terrible!) he quickly persuaded a son to also come to Edinburgh, to do tourism while I was busy. (This is an excellent reason for having children, so do try not to despair if your children are 10 years old and annoying. They do get better with age.)

We wandered round the city for a while before dinner. Edinburgh is built on hills. The castle stands on an extinct volcano, with a ‘tail’ formed in the ice age that is now a hill crammed with expensive buildings. The poor people lived in the valleys—the lower you lived, the poorer you were. There are lots of steep narrow staircases joining the two. It’s modern claim to fame is that Harry Potter was written here, and as we wandered along narrow streets, and saw exotic shops next to cobbled roads, it was easy to see how the city had inspired the books. It is very beautiful, but in a well-used historical way. There is still an undercurrent of poor—-though they are no longer confined to the valleys. You cannot avoid seeing the homeless, the addicted, the desperate, which always makes me pause when staying somewhere beautiful. Something is wrong, but I don’t know how to solve it.

We ended the day with dinner back at Hot Toddy. I went to bed exhausted, and nervously excited about the next ten days.

Thanks for reading and sharing the adventure. I’ll tell you more in another post.

Have a good week, and take care.

Love, Anne x