Sunday, 26 October 2008 Well, what do you know, it is my birthday, an event so celebrated here that they set the clocks back so that we
can have 25 hours of it. Even with that, I get out quite late this morning. I'm not too badly off--I can remember the Standing Order very well--
but I'm not feeling particularly ambitious, either. One might hope to be forgiven for being a bit lazy on one's birthday. I wander up and
down the Royal Mile, the only focused act being to shop for CDs at Coda. Have a
blether with the shop clerk about the sorry state of the record business, and admit that my annual visit to Coda is pretty much the only time
all year that I set foot in such a shop. (And yes, CDs are records, just as vinyl LPs are.) Coda specializes in folk and traditional music,
especially Scottish, of course. I lament aloud the dearth of Breton music, which I'm always on the lookout for. The clerk says there just
hasn't been much released in the past couple of years. I have no trouble finding half a dozen discs to buy, anyway.
Make my indirect way to the Museum, where I spend a couple of hours looking at Pictish carved stones and such. Dinner is a pizza in a little Italian place in the Grassmarket. Burger last night, pizza tonight...judging by my culinary cravings, I'm about ready to go home.
Have a couple of pints in the Bow, and then go in search of the Oxford Bar in New Town. Emily sent me one of Ian Rankin's Rebus novels a while back, crime fiction set in Edinburgh, and I've been hooked. The Ox is Inspector Rebus' favorite pub, and of course I have to see it. I'm a little surprised to find it a pretty nice place, not so gritty as I'd imagined. The bartender tells me that the nicotine stains on the walls have recently been painted over, smoking no longer being allowed inside.