Bobby and Bazza
For those of you following my blog, you will know I am currently in Edinburgh for ‘The Fringe’ albeit a very limited version.
My first night here I watched a performance of the musical ‘Sunshine on Leith’ and it didn’t disappoint, having been introduced to it’s merits through a friend who told me to watch the original film featuring the music of the band ‘The Proclaimers.’
The setting was beautiful, on the main stage in the city and even though it was raining the sun did eventually shine, as did their voices.
The final song was ‘500 Miles’ and everyone sang along, a perfect beginning really.
The next day (Tuesday) I walked into the city which was so much easier than expected and on route I revisited Greyfriars Kirkyard of which the story of Greyfriar’s Bobby was told to me by my mother. The story of the little terrier (Bobby) who refused to leave his master’s graveside when he passed on and stayed near about, for fourteen years, fed by the locals until he too passed and was then buried along with his master.
I remember seeing the statue when I was younger but I didn’t remember much about the Kirkyard which I loved. When my mother was young they called her their ‘Kirkyard deserter’ because she loved looking and visiting gravestones, something I have clearly inherited.
There is something beautiful about old Victorian churchyards, hauntingly gothic, strange and macabre and I am not the only one who thinks this, J. K Rowling found names for her characters here, the most famous being ‘Tom Riddle’ he who shall not be named!
Below is the grave of John Gray and his faithful dog Bobby. Although the second photo shows another monument commissioned especially for Bobby and I found my tears falling at the sticks people had laid for him.
This is just outside and the statue I remember most as a young child when we visited here.
After a mooch around the city and stopping for lunch I headed back and browsed in an amazing second hand book shop, in which I purchased three pre-loved poetry books. I spent some time in here, choosing from the vast array of poetry, something currently lacking in modern bookshops.
A dedication written in one of the books has sparked a thought which I will turn into a poem, mostly this is in my imagination although, I secretly hope there may be an element of truth. Finding messages of love is always special, even when you have no idea who they were for or why?
After I arrived back at the Airbnb I changed, it had been a beautiful sunny day and I had dressed for rain, as per the weather app. I then ventured out once more for my next Fringe offering. A musical to the backdrop of Barry Manilow’s lyrical palette, no doubt you see a pattern forming here, unintentional but a pattern none the less.
On the way, I stopped at another bookshop and bought yet another poetry book and some awesome postcards of inspiring women authors.
The musical wasn’t quite as I expected and there were a couple of awkward moments when I held my breath but on the whole I enjoyed it and I was glad I went. The Fringe is all about people trying new ideas, and not always the sleek professionals. Scenarios range from the obscure and abstract to the expected, this little ditty kind of fell into the middle.
I am still trying to navigate Google maps which seems to want to send me on the longest route possible and have found myself walking in circles and so near to destinations if only my inner compass wasn’t broken!
Yesterday (Wednesday) the weather was kind until the afternoon and I thought I would try another way into the city and again found myself lost which I’m actually enjoying, when I’m not trying to find somewhere on a timeline.
I ended up lunching with the dead, which felt both strange and wonderful. I am sure they are happy to be amongst the living and in my head I could imagine them constantly talking about the regular patrons:
“Och, fit is she wearing noo?”
My mum came from Aberdeen so this was something said about me on occasions and not just from my mum but my family too (I loved the creativity of the 80’s) the translation being:
”What is she wearing now?”
You can see the edge of my table here, next to the dead.
I also shared my lunch with several annoying wasps but eating outside is something so rare in the U.K. that it feels important to do so at any given chance. There was also a craft fair in the Kirkyard which again felt a little surreal but fabulous!
My third Fringe performance was a spoken word event but not poetry, very alternative and very interesting, posing questions which were quite philosophical. It lasted almost two hours but felt like ten minutes. Too much detail to explain but certainly food for thought.
In life, our paths are always twisting and turning; red letter days happen, when we least, expect them.
More to follow…
Stay Safe,
Joy xxx