A Day Out in Edinburgh

Yesterday morning Don went off to play golf with the St Fillans Seniors (he did well, too) and I got ready for my day out in Edinburgh. Helen and Gordon picked me up at 9:15. Gordon dropped Helen and me at the train station in Dunblane just in time for the 10 o'clock hour-long trainride to the "big city." It was another beautiful day and the forecast was so good we didn't bother with raincoats or umbrellas.

Our main objective was to attend an afternoon talk at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, part of the Edinburgh Festival, but we decided to make the day of it. So we had a morning coffee, browsed through the Craft Festival, and then had lunch at Le Petit Folie where Helen had booked us a table for 12:30. We had a lovely lunch and then a leisurely stroll to Charlotte Square where the book festival is located. We had plenty of time to kill so we headed for the booksellers' tent. Helen had said to me as we were walking there, "Now don't let me buy anymore books." But what she said to me when we walked into the booksellers' tent was "Right. Let's split up and meet up for a coffee in an hour and a half." A crafty woman, is Helen.

There were thousands of titles, fiction and non-fiction, Scottish and international, paperback and hardback. I was so good I only bought 2 small paperbacks: Ali Smith's second novel, Hotel World, and a pocket-sized French phrasebook with a phonetic pronunciation guide. Ali Smith is a Scottish writer from the Inverness area whose first novel, Like, I thoroughly enjoyed when it was first published. I'm looking forward to reading the second and third books. (The third is The Accidental which I already have but haven't read yet--evidence that I certainly didn't need to buy anymore books either.)

Helen and I met up for coffee (also in the booksellers' tent). She had been equally restrained so we patted ourselves on the back as we sipped our coffee and leafed through our books. We then split up again and spent another half hour browsing the few shelves we hadn't yet gotten to then paid for our books and went out to gueue for the 3:30 programme.

There were so many programmes we would like to have attended but the most popular ones sell out almost immediately. There were others we couldn't get to because of our schedules. If you would like to eavesdrop on some of the programmes, here is a link to audio archives from this year's festival so far: http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/readings/index.html#4 .

We attended a programme featuring two Scottish women authors: Isla Dewar and Laura Marney. We both had read several Isla Dewar books but knew nothering about Laura Marney, but we were in for a treat. Laura Marney went first, reading from her third novel, Only Strange People Go To Church. She is a highly entertaining speaker and her writing is very funny with interesting characters. Isla Dewar read from her 10th novel, The Consequences of Marriage. Dewar's excerpts were more serious although not without humorous touches. It was the second time I've heard Dewar read for once when we were in Comrie on holiday, the local bookseller (alas, it is no more) put on the occasional programme in the White Church. We were able to hear Isla Dewar read from her book The Woman Who Painted Her Dreams, which we bought that evening and had her autograph.

In some ways the two women perfectly embodied the Edinburgh/Glasgow divide: Dewar, from Portabello outside Edinburgh, spoke slowly and rather quietly with very little trace of the Scots burr, telling a sober tale of a 72-year-old woman's wistful remembrance of the early days of her marriage. Marney, from East Kilbride outside Glasgow, couldn't have been more different. Her words tumbled out in a rollicking Glaswegian sing-song full of impieties and introducing us to a roomfull of offbeat characters in outrageous predicaments. Both were most enjoyable but each was quite distinctive. I have read 5 or 6 of Dewar's books over the years and have just ordered Marney's 3 books.

It rained briefly while we were in the tent and when we came out, the temperature had dropped close to 10 degrees. It lightly sprinkled now and then but nothing to deter us in any way. We strolled from Charlotte Square along George Street and then cut down to Princes Street to Waverly Station where we caught the 5 o'clock train back to Dunblane. Gordon met us in Dublane at 6 and chauffeured us back to Comrie.

Donald cooked us all the most wonderful evening meal of his favorite chicken dish (sauteed breasts with garlic and capers) and fresh broccoli with orange zest. I made rice. The Raes brought the wine. Donald had bought honeycomb vanilla ice cream and fresh plump raspberries to go with for dessert. It was an outstanding day!