Edinburgh

What a charmed life I lead, the weekend was amazing and perfect in every respect!

We arrived after a 40 minute delay, but because the weekend was perfect we arrived at the hotel within 5 minutes of our stated arrival time and our hosts were there to greet us. Fiona and Colin and their two charming dogs George (black pug) and Doris (brindle Staffie) came spilling out into the street and it was exactly like coming home after a long and wearisome trip. We were made much of by the dogs and trundled in to our room - a gorgeous Colefax papered hideaway with a shining bathroom attached. Off out we sauntered for a pizza at the P Express just at the foot of the road - a road, I might add, where residents leave their Aston Martins parked on the street.

Saturday dawned clear and fair and off we went to the shops. Jenners, a sad disappointment since House of Fraser took it over and gang-raped it, but this was more than made up for by John Lewis, M & S and Harvey Nicks, which was notable for it’s lack of customers and for the fact that the largest 7 For All Mankind jeans they stock are a size 11. No joke. I got them on but regular wear would necessitate removal of ribs. To be fair to HN they probably don’t make ‘em any bigger, but it was a dent to my vanity, and since I know that statistically I am now thinner than the majority in this country it’s no wonder there were no buyers. Just tons of grave, darkly dressed young things desperate to open doors for you or spray you with perfume. Quite sad really.

We took a bus to Leith and mum was thrilled to see all the sights of her youth.

Dinner was an extravaganza. No other word for it. I’d booked a temple of gastronomy and hoo, did we get it! Circus Bar & Grill on North Castle Street. Run by the Mob, apparently. Well, they’re cruel men but they know how to cater. I had two perfect lemon Martinis, stirred not shaken, and then smoked salmon, duck and a pudding so rare it made my eyelashes curl and put a smile on my lips a mile wide. Three Amarettos each later, we got in a cab and sang all the way home.

More shopping on Sunday, then tea at the Palm Court, Balmoral Hotel which was utterly amazing. A nice young played the harp for us all through, and I’m sure I detected a cheeky rendition of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ in there. He wouldn’t meet my eye when I turned round and looked up at him, strumming away in his minstrel’s gallery. Pisstaker.

Monday mum rested and pottered about and I met my oldest friend for lunch and to catch up on everything… a really fantastic day. There’s nothing quite like renewing a friendship through a personal meeting. Emails are all very well, blogging ditto; but an hour in familiar company refreshes the connection and makes it all seem so much realler.

Then home, with promises to visit next year made, and invitations from our hosts to come to them in their new apartment. I can’t wait. Perfection.