Italian Students interfere with Arthur’s Seat

Arthur's Seat

 On a day like today the views at the  top of Arthur’s Seat  were remarkable! Specifically this one? Not only did they gub us at rugby but clearly they’re not finished with us yet. Those of a delicate disposition look away – students eh?
After the event – if you can call it that, we stood and admired the panoramic views the realised we were STARVING so rushed off doon the hill, jumped in the car and hit The Bake House on Broughton Street for a marvellous panini and large latte. Lounging in there for as long as possible before the wardens from hell were spotted glowering through the window and souring the milk.

The Bakehouse is a must if  you find yourself in Broughton Street.  Homemade cakes and wonderous tuna melts and the most charming staff to welcome you.

Table before heaps of food arrive - cute.
Outside about to rush in stuff faces. Hola.

In fact it is the perfect stop off  after a strenuous walk to get a lining in the stomach before heading over to The Barony Bar right across the road – a splendid hostelry which is still what it always was – a great pub. I LOVE PUBS. Oops sorry did I say that out loud.Especially ones that haven’t been bought over by multi-nationals and turned into clones of every other wipe clean surface in the world.  The Barony is a belter and well worth a visit.

Inhale 1 2 3 Hmmmmn you can just imagine that lager slipping down yer throat.

Ah yes many a happy evening, night, day, afternoon has been wiled away in this establishment. On ye go – you know you want to.

Eyes like road maps.

Yes there was drink involved. Well what do you do when an old pal turns up from far far away and wants to go out on the lash.
‘No no I can’t I have to sit in and try and remember when I last detected tone in my thighs’ Aye right.
So off we went into the night. Well specifically The Balmoral Hotel, posh and not the sort of place we usually hang oot so slightly cowed by the grandeur we started in whispery voices. Cut to 4 hours later we were singing at reception. Sorry to the lovely staff.

When in the loo last night I thought my friend Anne was in the adjoining cubicle so I knelt down, put my hand under the door and grabbed her bag. The shriek that emanated from the cubicle made my blood run cold it wasn’t Anne but a complete stranger.  I apologised profusely in an Irish accent in case she was sitting next to us in the restaurant and recognised my voice and ran like the wind. Poor woman.

Made a pact with myself before going out drink water between every glass of booze. I did that – twice and then the ‘what the hell you’re only young once’ thing kicked in. Of course I’m not bloody young anymore which is why I now look like Marty Feldman after someone sat on his face all night and feel like someone has force fed me dung for a fortnight.

X-Pletive Factor



 My pal’s husband was playing golf on Saturday at Archerfield in East Lothian. She’s not a golfer so had arranged to meet him for lunch at the golf club afterwards. On arrival she got herself a drink and sat staring into space waiting for him to arrive. As she did so she spotted a Ronan Keating look-alike. This happens a lot in her head – she is a die hard Boyzone fan. It was this point her husband drew up a chair and with her eyes boring into this poor unfortunate she said ‘God doesn’t he look like Ronan Keating’ whilst snorkling into her gin and tonic. ‘Oh That is Ronan Keating.’ he said calmly as she brought most of the gin out through her nose. It seems he was there raising money for Breast Cancer with Ian Botham and various other well kent faces. Her husband barely noticed – unlike Helen who is still there on the off chance he comes back.



 Proof that pal Anne did Gorilla run in London at the weekend. They had to pick their own acvcessories so they could distinguish one from the other. I think the saltire is very fetching. She did it, survived and then went on an all day bender during which she left her handbag in someones house so she borrowed a tenner from a pal and spent the rest of the night rushing from party to party with nothing but a make-up bag cobbled together rfor emergency gorilla facial issues and a change purse. She ended up at someones 21st which thanks to the suit no-one guessed she was in fact 40 something until due to heat exhaustion she had to take th head off and throw another drink down her hairy throat. What fun. She flew home on Sunday waking up with her head on the shoulder of the man next to her and a dry throat, proof positive she had been snoring since take-off. Stylish.


Chained to my desk today by mid-day going MAD, I always have the radio on and flick from channel to channel but today I was listening to pal Darren Adam interviewing American singer, Idina Menzel, star of “Wicked” on Broadway/West End who has a new album out.It was a great chat and all going swimmingly until he asked ‘what music do you listen to, to pleasure yourself?’ I spat my coffee out as he realised what he had said and burst out laughing. Clearly he had meant to ask ‘what music do you listen to for pleasure’. He giggled for the next few minutes as I did until the singer got a grip but I daresay she will dine out on that one for a while. I would.



Doing some events for Spinal Injuries Scotland so have a lunchtime meeting today at Chez Pierres in Edinburgh. For £6 each we have salad, a snacky thing, maincourse, sweet and coffe and it is delicious. I am moving in. Pierre himself was in the kitchen and during the credit crunch he will do well and deserves to what amazing value.

I have flogged my gas guzzler and am now the proud owner of a deisel golf – yes my carbon footprint just shrank considerably. As we drive around it tells you on the dash how many MPG which I can’t help but read out loud it is so good. 68, 71, 99 – God are you going to do that constantly? asks Teenwolf it’s really lame. ‘OK you can walk then’ I say as I pull over. He shuts up and then as we take a run out of town I hear a voice in the background saying ‘ 121mpg Mum that’s incredible’. I catch his eye in the rear view mirror – we both laugh – he is as impressed as I am despite his teenage brain saying ‘must not agree with mother. Must take mickey out of mother’.




My birthday today, 110 years old. Having a quiet one this year just Dave, me, Louis , Mum and old pal George who is staying with us. I said no presents this year as we are credit crunched and unfortunately Dave listened. Not amused. To make up he takes us to Bar Roma for tea. He is forgiven as we swig down a big glass of white and the girl from the next table comes up to say ‘hello I read your column every week’ and then turning she points at her man ‘ he picked me up from work at 3.30 and hadn’t even notice he was wearing one brown shoe and one black shoe!’ We had a good laugh about that then I wheeched my camera out and took a photo of the shoes and of them – Robert and Karen – -who will be moritifed to see this! It’s good to know I am not alone with shoe disasters and accosting people in bars!


X Factor. Yes I am hooked. I love Cheryl Cole she is so normal and clearly getting up Danni’s nose which makes her all the more likeable in my book! Have a flumpy night,

I made a big curry which has been in the fridge for 2 days marinating. I like a marination. I put it in making a bit of a song and dance about the herbs and spices that will have permeated the meat making it a thing of beauty. As the credits for X factor roll, I get the curry out of the oven and we settle on the couch. Within 2 minutes all 3 of us are in the kitchen engulfing as much water as we can get into our faces – it seems my hand slipped when putting in the chilli sauce – so it is more the X-pletive factor until after a tub of yoghurt each we return to the couch with a family bag of crisps and the phone number for the local pizza delivery. Never see Nigella doing that.