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Please forgive me if, at any point, you are someone who is trying to follow this chronologically. My post on Day 3 - when I visited Edinburgh Castle - is currently causing LJ to spit out an error. Out of frustration I posted the next installment which I’d already written to make sure I could post anything at all. I could. And since the last time I was amused by LJ correcting me - it turned out I was spelling ‘dalmatians’ incorrectly - well, I’m giving it the benefit of the doubt.
Day 5 got away from me just a little bit. The plan was to visit Edinburgh’s Farmers’ Market in the morning and the Scottish National Museum in the afternoon. A couple of things conspired to set me off schedule. My left knee had been seriously protesting all the down-hilling I had done on day 4 and it continued to do so all this day as well. This means I took a bus into the city and was moving quite a bit more slowly than usual. Also, disappointed at the dearth of used bookstores I was finding on my own - oh, I bought a copy of Tess of the D’ubervilles from a charity shop on day 2 - I had marked onto the map a shop which came up when I did a google search for the area I was going to be in for the market and museum. Now, I have no idea why only one dot came up, but there was a whole handful of good stores over there. I was moving slowly, but I managed to buy a lot of pretty, pretty books. Being delayed, I found myself being thrown out of the museum at five, making a second place I have to go back to before I leave. I did; however, walk through Greyfriar’s Kirkyard before I turned for home.
First, Edinburgh’s Farmers’ Market - but of course I detoured a bit on the way, limp or no limp.






And now the Market proper




Bizarrely, a roving band of Blues Brothers showed up. I really wish I’d been brave enough to go up to them and say, ‘I’m from Chicago. What the heck are you guys doing?’


Having heard wonderful things, I ate a small portion of porridge from the Stoats vendor. I had the fresh fruits menu item and it had raspberries, pears and grapes. It was delicious, and quite beautiful to eat.



This booth had a whole cooked pig from which they were shaving meat to make sandwiches. The picture is rubbish, though, due to the glare. I hated to stand around trying to get a better one since I hadn’t bought a sandwich and was full of porridge plus the ham roll I’d had for breakfast in order to get bus fare.

Right. On to the books!
Things didn’t start particularly well - I walked into an antique store with a basement full of books - found four lovely little volumes I wanted - and they don’t take plastic. I hadn’t encountered this at all yet. A minimum purchase, sure, but not to take them at all? Disappointed, I surrendered them and moved on as I didn’t have near £30 in cash on me.
I walked up exactly two doors to this lovely little nook of heaven.

I was able to find a replacement for two of the volumes I’d wanted, Little Dorrit by Dickens and A Child’s Garden of Verses - plus G.K. Chesterson and - ahem - a guidebook for Edinburgh - written by Robert Louis Stevenson. Take That!

So then I found another shop which did not take plastic, but as I had only two books adding up to £6.50 I grudgingly coughed it up.
A Georgette Heyer and an Alistair MacLean


Incidentally, this is the actual store which google told me about. I immediately was sorry I’d surrendered any cash and recalled my excitement at finding Milne - not writing Pooh, though I eternally adore Pooh - and began to pout.
I continued on next door where I found...

Ah, a sop to my conscience. An ode to Milne cleverly disguised as ‘literary criticsm’. Well, I thought, perhaps I can be happy with this.
I also found and bought - now carefully checking for VISA/MC signs before entering shops... This!

v
It seemed to me they had the entire road series - but he mentioned having sold one previously so perhaps it was incomplete - I really wanted the entire thing, I want to paper a wall with it. I ended up feeling eternally grateful that the final one I found - honestly the absolutely last one, the entire time I’m assuring myself it would have been the first to be discovered and purchased - was the one that showed Edinburgh itself.
So now, feeling extremely optimistic and having everything I could possibly want - but one - I began to wistfully think back to the Milne I’d been forced to give up - especially because Chesterton was now so neatly dovetailing with Vonnegut - and to get Milne to boot! Each of these three volumes features the author’s essays and thoughts on life. This doesn’t fall into my normal focus, I’m generally all fiction all the time; but the Vonnegut is superb.
So it occurs to me that someone gave me a two pound coin in change - and maybe, just maybe, I can manage it - so I pull out all my coins. I determine that I can JUST afford the Milne and still have enough to haul my gimpy butt home on the bus. This decision eventually ended in a very tense moment on the bus as I dropped an unprecedented number of coins into the slot, looking at the driver hopefully the whole while, prepared to pull out my volume of Milne and try my hardest to explain why I might have accidentally counted five pence short in my enthusiasm for my new love. I took the Milne to tea, you see, cementing our romance.
Thankfully, I was not thrown off the bus.

This has grown to a shocking length so I will break here and continue as soon as I am able.
Day 5 got away from me just a little bit. The plan was to visit Edinburgh’s Farmers’ Market in the morning and the Scottish National Museum in the afternoon. A couple of things conspired to set me off schedule. My left knee had been seriously protesting all the down-hilling I had done on day 4 and it continued to do so all this day as well. This means I took a bus into the city and was moving quite a bit more slowly than usual. Also, disappointed at the dearth of used bookstores I was finding on my own - oh, I bought a copy of Tess of the D’ubervilles from a charity shop on day 2 - I had marked onto the map a shop which came up when I did a google search for the area I was going to be in for the market and museum. Now, I have no idea why only one dot came up, but there was a whole handful of good stores over there. I was moving slowly, but I managed to buy a lot of pretty, pretty books. Being delayed, I found myself being thrown out of the museum at five, making a second place I have to go back to before I leave. I did; however, walk through Greyfriar’s Kirkyard before I turned for home.
First, Edinburgh’s Farmers’ Market - but of course I detoured a bit on the way, limp or no limp.






And now the Market proper




Bizarrely, a roving band of Blues Brothers showed up. I really wish I’d been brave enough to go up to them and say, ‘I’m from Chicago. What the heck are you guys doing?’


Having heard wonderful things, I ate a small portion of porridge from the Stoats vendor. I had the fresh fruits menu item and it had raspberries, pears and grapes. It was delicious, and quite beautiful to eat.



This booth had a whole cooked pig from which they were shaving meat to make sandwiches. The picture is rubbish, though, due to the glare. I hated to stand around trying to get a better one since I hadn’t bought a sandwich and was full of porridge plus the ham roll I’d had for breakfast in order to get bus fare.

Right. On to the books!
Things didn’t start particularly well - I walked into an antique store with a basement full of books - found four lovely little volumes I wanted - and they don’t take plastic. I hadn’t encountered this at all yet. A minimum purchase, sure, but not to take them at all? Disappointed, I surrendered them and moved on as I didn’t have near £30 in cash on me.
I walked up exactly two doors to this lovely little nook of heaven.

I was able to find a replacement for two of the volumes I’d wanted, Little Dorrit by Dickens and A Child’s Garden of Verses - plus G.K. Chesterson and - ahem - a guidebook for Edinburgh - written by Robert Louis Stevenson. Take That!

So then I found another shop which did not take plastic, but as I had only two books adding up to £6.50 I grudgingly coughed it up.
A Georgette Heyer and an Alistair MacLean


Incidentally, this is the actual store which google told me about. I immediately was sorry I’d surrendered any cash and recalled my excitement at finding Milne - not writing Pooh, though I eternally adore Pooh - and began to pout.
I continued on next door where I found...

Ah, a sop to my conscience. An ode to Milne cleverly disguised as ‘literary criticsm’. Well, I thought, perhaps I can be happy with this.
I also found and bought - now carefully checking for VISA/MC signs before entering shops... This!


It seemed to me they had the entire road series - but he mentioned having sold one previously so perhaps it was incomplete - I really wanted the entire thing, I want to paper a wall with it. I ended up feeling eternally grateful that the final one I found - honestly the absolutely last one, the entire time I’m assuring myself it would have been the first to be discovered and purchased - was the one that showed Edinburgh itself.
So now, feeling extremely optimistic and having everything I could possibly want - but one - I began to wistfully think back to the Milne I’d been forced to give up - especially because Chesterton was now so neatly dovetailing with Vonnegut - and to get Milne to boot! Each of these three volumes features the author’s essays and thoughts on life. This doesn’t fall into my normal focus, I’m generally all fiction all the time; but the Vonnegut is superb.
So it occurs to me that someone gave me a two pound coin in change - and maybe, just maybe, I can manage it - so I pull out all my coins. I determine that I can JUST afford the Milne and still have enough to haul my gimpy butt home on the bus. This decision eventually ended in a very tense moment on the bus as I dropped an unprecedented number of coins into the slot, looking at the driver hopefully the whole while, prepared to pull out my volume of Milne and try my hardest to explain why I might have accidentally counted five pence short in my enthusiasm for my new love. I took the Milne to tea, you see, cementing our romance.
Thankfully, I was not thrown off the bus.

This has grown to a shocking length so I will break here and continue as soon as I am able.