Tourists in Edinburgh have the worst peripheral vision I've ever encountered.  Even worse than tourists in London; even worse than people in Tesco on pension day.

Edinburgh people themselves, of course, are lovely.  Even the staff in the Travelodge I stayed in, were excellent.  Surprisingly so - I've stayed in a lot of Travelodges, and this one, though a bit abraded in places, has some of the best staff I've seen in one.  The breakfast was jolly nice too, which is certainly not always the case!

On the Royal Mile:  Gorgeous, gentle-faced, smiling young man playing the ropiest-sounding guitar I've ever heard... but the way he was playing it was so full of joy that I almost wanted to dance down the street.

Further along the Royal Mile:  Coming towards me were two students, one Cheguevara t-shirt, the other the ubiquitous tweed jacket, skinny jeans and slightly-too-small trilby.  Under their arms, each carried a good-sized red flag.  Freshly made, by the look of them.  As they passed me, a snippet of conversation, in the plummiest Etonian, "...well yes, because you see, that's the trouble with the white working class..."