If you've ever been to London and thought the sheer size and density was slightly overwhelming for your delicate city-scared soul, one might suggest giving Edinburgh a visit.
The capital city of Scotland is like the younger brother of London, the little Ben if you will. Your curious eyes will still witness the relentless variety of humanity that you would in London, the quaint and quirky shops filled with knick-knacks that'll have you drooling money, hoards of open-jawed, camera cuddling tourists photographing a name-less building in the hope that it's 'classic Scottish architecture'. I think the seductive appeal of Edinburgh may lie in the juxtaposition of the snapshot worthy Castle and the modern shops that eagerly await your wallets. Thus, feeding the hungry desires of the historian and the consumerist; a perfect recipe for a sweet and saliva- inducing city.
A particularly tasty moment from my excursions to the Burgh is the plausibility that you may bump around a bustling corner, seeking sanctuary in a wee cafe- with little expectation for anything more than an over-priced starbucks replica- and find yourself in the paragon of fascination. The anticipation that the next duck-worthy doorway you stick your head into will be the most pleasant and neuron stimulating experience yet is a one that is under-documented, but is a neon lego brick in the founding factors as to why I am moving there. But, if you're a well situated city dweller, you can still find your fix by injecting yourself with the multi storey shops along Princes Street that have befuddled me with their enormity on more than one product-drenched occasion.
A personal tip for the lost boys of Edinburgh; get your bearings at the top of the Scot Monument. When I clambered to its peak, I synthesised the theory that the creation got its name from the stair conquering visitors stating, "Great Scot, what a monumental view". This extra large scene takes a quite a few gulps to drink in, but is truly worth the Harry Potter like staircase hike. I hope this little blurb has been enough to convince you to take a tartan trip to the capital; if not, then go on the off chance that you might catch a glimpse of J.K Rowling squatting somewhere, scribbling ideas for her next book.
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