The Chocolate Ocelot's Fringe - Friday again

Up with the lark at 7am. Well, get out of bed at half past actually. Much packing up and cleaning of flat, as Herself takes pride in leaving a place even cleaner than it was when we got there. To this end, I clean the inside of the washing machine we never used.

Leave a nice message for Landlord Jim in the guest book, and plod down the stairs and out of flat for last time. Climb up Tokyo Steps around 10 am to battle the first wave of castle tourists, and then trundle our trundly cases down to Waverley station. A last chance to spot a performer on the way down – the sadly-missed Timandra perhaps? But no. Onto the train and off we go. Bye-bye Edinburgh. Our Fringe is over, but for you it is just beginning.

Resolve to complete Dan Brown book by the time we get to Kings Cross, but am delayed by a compulsion to solve a pictorial grid puzzle by hand, rather than let Robert Langdon do it for me in a few pages. Doggedly solve puzzle, only to be left with a map which means nothing to me because I’ve never been on a bloody Masonic tour of Washington DC. Tch. Remember conversation with Herself from yesterday about how Edinburgh is crying out for a Da Vinci Code style mystery book. The plot, details and characters are as yet unclear to me, but it will certainly involved Alexander Hume’s shiny big toe, Greyfriars Bobby, and the mysterious carved letters in the flagstones of Castle Wynd South. May call it The Auld Reekie Enigma.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGk8aaKScxE

Ponder being misidentified as Australian again today, this time by an old guy from Dingwall. Beginning to get a thing about this.

Herself makes ample use of the free tea services on the train back to London, ‘to make up for the one she missed’ on the way up. Thus cosmic beverage justice is served. Try to watch movie on laptop of woman next to me, but am at wrong angle to enjoy properly. How selfish of her. Have brief exchange with gentleman across the aisle about Scott’s Grotto in Ware. It is a splendidly quiet and well behaved journey. Notice that man next to me is reading earlier Dan Brown book – Deception Point - am tempted to wave my own Dan Brown book at him and tell him ‘That’s quite good that is’, but am overcome with Englishness, so keep quiet.

In a mirror image of our journey a week ago, manage to spill tea over book, thus enhancing its crinkly brown appearance magnificently. No way I can offload it down the Oxfam shop now. They have standards.

Out at King Cross, along Victoria Line to Tottenham Hale and thence to home, where the heavens open in memory of Edinburgh as we get out of the train, though at least this decent home counties rain has the good grace not to gust sideways and soak me from the thigh downwards.

Home again, home again, and begin the post-hols ritual of unpacking, washing, getting of food and working through voicemails. Emails can wait for another bloody day.

Am quite adrift without a multicoloured timetable to structure my life.

Shows seen: none
Flyers collected: none