Title : Back to Edinburgh, a Retrospective Visit . . .
link : Back to Edinburgh, a Retrospective Visit . . .
Back to Edinburgh, a Retrospective Visit . . .
Still dark outside as I put the last touches on this post and get ready to publish it. I'm sitting on the couch, a wool blanket tucked over my legs as the room gradually warms -- it's cold just beyond the window, and the skim of snow that's dusted the city's concrete surfaces overnight makes it look colder still. Finally, a small taste of winter, quite enough for me, to be honest.
I've had these paragraphs sitting in my virtual Draft pile since early December, and while my trip to Edinburgh now feels like ancient history, I decided to finish and publish it here nonetheless. Perhaps it will resonate with some of you either through your own memories of visiting that attractive northern city or through your own process of realizing and setting priorities -- either for travel or for life in general.
I have no regrets at all about all the places I didn't get to last month (last month, when I wrote this, but now, last year!) in Edinburgh. Not that I don't have a list of (different) must-sees for next time. Nor, even, that the places I visited gave me the most comprehensive view of the city possible in my five days there. But those five days were so full of exactly what this solo traveller needed that I will be drawing on memories for months, perhaps years, as a reminder of what I truly value.
I've had these paragraphs sitting in my virtual Draft pile since early December, and while my trip to Edinburgh now feels like ancient history, I decided to finish and publish it here nonetheless. Perhaps it will resonate with some of you either through your own memories of visiting that attractive northern city or through your own process of realizing and setting priorities -- either for travel or for life in general.
I have no regrets at all about all the places I didn't get to last month (last month, when I wrote this, but now, last year!) in Edinburgh. Not that I don't have a list of (different) must-sees for next time. Nor, even, that the places I visited gave me the most comprehensive view of the city possible in my five days there. But those five days were so full of exactly what this solo traveller needed that I will be drawing on memories for months, perhaps years, as a reminder of what I truly value.
Before the trip, I/d spent a few hours browsing travel websites and books, reading reader suggestions (thank you) for must-sees-and-dos in Edinburgh. I'd jotted notes over a couple of pages in my travel journal of iconic sites, recommended restaurants, shops worth checking out. . . Most of which, given another four or five days, I likely would have visited.
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| Percy Wyndham Lewis' portrait of Naomi Mitchison (1897-1999) a writer and activist for social justice and women's rights, as seen in the Scottish National Portrait Gallery -- I'm always drawn to paintings of women reading. . . . |
Rather than regretting that I didn't have those extra days, I'm tickled to discover how clearly my priorities were revealed in the absence of obligations and the presence of abundant choice.
Actually, I could be a bit clearer here, because while free from obligations in Edinburgh, there were several constraints in the reality of my jet lag and of the short winter days. Normally an early riser, I was rarely out of bed before 10 in Edinburgh. Never got out of the house before 11. And the city is a fairly northern one, with darkness falling by 4 in the afternoon.
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| Lucian Freud's painting Two Men as seen in Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art |
Still, I managed to log many kilometres walking the city's street and another few wandering its galleries and museums and botanical garden. I peered in shop windows, even once walked through Marks & Spencer, slightly tempted by its cashmere, some narrow plaid pants ("trousers," there, of course). I'd thought I'd shop more, had jotted down boutique names in my travel journal beforehand -- several knitting shops that looked worth checking out, some fun-edgy little stores where I might pick up a scarf or necklace, bag or belt, even a skirt or top to sharpen my look back home. Turns out that temptation was easy to resist, although with a few more days next time, I'd probably yield. . .
This trip, though, I think I was so simply satisfied that I couldn't find the Want that generally propels shopping. Not only fashion retail, but even the promising windows of the art-supplies shop next to Greyfriars Bobby, even the idea of knitting socks from artisan yarn dyed and spun in Scotland, all the treasures my pounds sterling could have bought me appeared Surfeit, Too Much, In Excess. . .
Perhaps similarly, many of the recommended sites I'd jotted down in my travel journal while trip-planning -- sites connected with Scotland's political or literary history, for example -- never did get a line drawn through them on the page. Not only because I ran out of daylight hours or because my feet were sore, but mainly because I'd already seen Enough. Not at all in a worn-out or fed-up sense of "I've seen enough," but rather in the sense that I had restocked the mental or spiritual or emotional or intellectual pantry -- and needed time to digest and savour. . . .
And that's as much as I wrote when I first drafted this post back in mid-December. What follows is even more retrospective, but still valid and, I hope, relevant. . .
As it turns out, though, what I found time to do and what I enjoyed the most was a trinity of activities:
1. Flânerie, pure and simple -- wandering and looking and listening, sometimes with a general destination in mind and a willingness to surrender it if something more interesting beckoned along the way. A morning or afternoon spent this way might include some discreet people-watching and a bit of sketching or journal-writing while I nursed a pot of tea or a glass of wine.
2. Spending time with other women, talking and eating and drinking and listening to opera and watching "tiny plays." Thanks to my friend Lesley, in only five days, I enjoyed four social evenings: one was spent watching student performances of student-written mini-plays inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson's Songs of Travel, followed by a wonderful meal at the home of L's friend, the three of us caught up in lively conversation until after midnight; another evening, spent with L and a mutual Social Media friend, began in the late afternoon with a bottle of bubbles at L's and continued through a very good meal at a nearby restaurant; L and I had another good meal and a very decent glass or two at a French restaurant celebrating the nouveau Beaujolais just down the street from her place; and finally, I was graciously included in an invitation she'd been extended to a performance of Rigoletto.
Truly, I could easily write a post about each of those evenings, but collectively, they reminded me of how stimulating both city life and conversations with other women can be and of how much I value those. Yes, I knew this before I went to Edinburgh, and yes, this is part of my life at home (although I think that at home the urban choices often get subsumed to the lazy and comfortable pleasures of Netflix!). But it was good to have these choices and these values affirmed. And when the day comes that I can't easily travel any longer, I hope to remember this lesson. . . .
3. Art and architecture. . . In my brief visit, I'm so pleased that I managed to see the Victoria Crowe exhibition at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery; to breeze through the National Museum, stopping briefly to check out an exhibition of embroidered samplers; to look at the brilliant paper sculptures displayed in the entrance hall of the National Library, where I also quickly perused some of Frederick Douglass' letters; to visit both Modern One and Modern Two buildings/sites of the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art where I tried to absorb as many visual impressions as possible, but merely grazed the Andy Warhol/Eduardo Paolozzi exhibition. . .
Of course, there were many other possibilities I missed when it comes to Edinburgh's Art and Architecture on offer last fall: I never did make it to the National Poetry Museum to see the fuller collection of paper sculptures made by a mysterious artist and gifted over the past decade to advance literacy, advocate for literature and the arts, especially in Scotland. I did pretty well, though. And once again, I affirmed for myself how much enjoyment I take in wandering through gallery halls and rooms on my own, looking and thinking and connecting and synthesizing. . . .
Having made this retrospective visit to Edinburgh, done some strolling through photos I took of paintings, sculptures, architecture (that staircase I mentioned back here and promised to tell you more about) and cityscapes, I'm thinking I may share some impressions and images with you in the next while. As well, I realize I still haven't told you much about my solo days in Paris, where there was, of course, also so much art to enjoy. So expect a post about that as well.
For now, though, I'd love to hear your thoughts about this post. Have you also become quite clear about what you want from travel? Or, more generally and more importantly, from Life, both over the long haul and from day to day? And how well can you honour those priorities once you've identified and articulated them for yourself? These are big questions, yes, but we could also break them down a bit. You could tell me, for example, about the last best thing you did, just for yourself, no matter how small. . . buying a jar of marmalade and, spreading it on a piece of toast the next morning, remembering how much you'd once loved its bitter sweetness, wondering why you'd let go of that preference, determining to enjoy it more regularly. . . . or walking to the local library, leaving without having been able to choose a book but nonetheless satiated with the promises that whispered from all those spines, those dust-cover flaps, you promising in turn to come back soon. . . .
Okay, that's enough from me for a Monday morning. Your turn now. . .
This trip, though, I think I was so simply satisfied that I couldn't find the Want that generally propels shopping. Not only fashion retail, but even the promising windows of the art-supplies shop next to Greyfriars Bobby, even the idea of knitting socks from artisan yarn dyed and spun in Scotland, all the treasures my pounds sterling could have bought me appeared Surfeit, Too Much, In Excess. . .
Perhaps similarly, many of the recommended sites I'd jotted down in my travel journal while trip-planning -- sites connected with Scotland's political or literary history, for example -- never did get a line drawn through them on the page. Not only because I ran out of daylight hours or because my feet were sore, but mainly because I'd already seen Enough. Not at all in a worn-out or fed-up sense of "I've seen enough," but rather in the sense that I had restocked the mental or spiritual or emotional or intellectual pantry -- and needed time to digest and savour. . . .
 |
| This photo and the two below are of the paper sculptures housed in a glass case in the National Library of Scotland -- the glass case made it difficult to get a decent photograph, but you can sense the intricacy, I hope. Each sculpture represents a book by a Scottish writer. |
And that's as much as I wrote when I first drafted this post back in mid-December. What follows is even more retrospective, but still valid and, I hope, relevant. . .
As it turns out, though, what I found time to do and what I enjoyed the most was a trinity of activities:
1. Flânerie, pure and simple -- wandering and looking and listening, sometimes with a general destination in mind and a willingness to surrender it if something more interesting beckoned along the way. A morning or afternoon spent this way might include some discreet people-watching and a bit of sketching or journal-writing while I nursed a pot of tea or a glass of wine.
2. Spending time with other women, talking and eating and drinking and listening to opera and watching "tiny plays." Thanks to my friend Lesley, in only five days, I enjoyed four social evenings: one was spent watching student performances of student-written mini-plays inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson's Songs of Travel, followed by a wonderful meal at the home of L's friend, the three of us caught up in lively conversation until after midnight; another evening, spent with L and a mutual Social Media friend, began in the late afternoon with a bottle of bubbles at L's and continued through a very good meal at a nearby restaurant; L and I had another good meal and a very decent glass or two at a French restaurant celebrating the nouveau Beaujolais just down the street from her place; and finally, I was graciously included in an invitation she'd been extended to a performance of Rigoletto.
Truly, I could easily write a post about each of those evenings, but collectively, they reminded me of how stimulating both city life and conversations with other women can be and of how much I value those. Yes, I knew this before I went to Edinburgh, and yes, this is part of my life at home (although I think that at home the urban choices often get subsumed to the lazy and comfortable pleasures of Netflix!). But it was good to have these choices and these values affirmed. And when the day comes that I can't easily travel any longer, I hope to remember this lesson. . . .
3. Art and architecture. . . In my brief visit, I'm so pleased that I managed to see the Victoria Crowe exhibition at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery; to breeze through the National Museum, stopping briefly to check out an exhibition of embroidered samplers; to look at the brilliant paper sculptures displayed in the entrance hall of the National Library, where I also quickly perused some of Frederick Douglass' letters; to visit both Modern One and Modern Two buildings/sites of the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art where I tried to absorb as many visual impressions as possible, but merely grazed the Andy Warhol/Eduardo Paolozzi exhibition. . .
Of course, there were many other possibilities I missed when it comes to Edinburgh's Art and Architecture on offer last fall: I never did make it to the National Poetry Museum to see the fuller collection of paper sculptures made by a mysterious artist and gifted over the past decade to advance literacy, advocate for literature and the arts, especially in Scotland. I did pretty well, though. And once again, I affirmed for myself how much enjoyment I take in wandering through gallery halls and rooms on my own, looking and thinking and connecting and synthesizing. . . .
Having made this retrospective visit to Edinburgh, done some strolling through photos I took of paintings, sculptures, architecture (that staircase I mentioned back here and promised to tell you more about) and cityscapes, I'm thinking I may share some impressions and images with you in the next while. As well, I realize I still haven't told you much about my solo days in Paris, where there was, of course, also so much art to enjoy. So expect a post about that as well.
For now, though, I'd love to hear your thoughts about this post. Have you also become quite clear about what you want from travel? Or, more generally and more importantly, from Life, both over the long haul and from day to day? And how well can you honour those priorities once you've identified and articulated them for yourself? These are big questions, yes, but we could also break them down a bit. You could tell me, for example, about the last best thing you did, just for yourself, no matter how small. . . buying a jar of marmalade and, spreading it on a piece of toast the next morning, remembering how much you'd once loved its bitter sweetness, wondering why you'd let go of that preference, determining to enjoy it more regularly. . . . or walking to the local library, leaving without having been able to choose a book but nonetheless satiated with the promises that whispered from all those spines, those dust-cover flaps, you promising in turn to come back soon. . . .
Okay, that's enough from me for a Monday morning. Your turn now. . .
Thus articles Back to Edinburgh, a Retrospective Visit . . .
that is all articles Back to Edinburgh, a Retrospective Visit . . . This time, hopefully can provide benefits to you all. Okay, see you in another article post.
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