A TALE OF TWO CITIES

“So in August, Matt, the population of Edinburgh literally doubles from 500,000 to over a million!” said my host.

“Where do they all stay?” I asked, incredulously. Of course, the spare rooms of large houses are Air-B&Bd, and of course all the hotels are happily packed, all the time, throughout the festival period, presumably charging whatever numbers they like. No doubt the streets were full today, not with international connoisseurs of culture and comedy, but also some very happy restaurateurs and shopkeepers, for whom the crowds of August are annually the most rewarding.

I found myself walking along those same streets I had visited when I was here last, some eighteen months ago.

The bitter wind had been replaced with a summer breeze, and the Autumn gentleness had gone, in favour of the festival buzz and chatter. There are now pop-up bars and fairy lights in the parks where I’d sat quietly under golden trees. There are bouncers outside the museums I’d happily wandered into, and burly guards stand cross-armed beneath coloured banners, deafened by loud and live music.

And most noticeably of all, there are people; thousands of people, milling and mulling and swarming and pushing as they shuffle along the heaving streets. Today, Edinburgh had almost out-Londoned London.

Meanwhile, enthroned in his ridiculously tall monument, Sir Walter Scott looks, if anything, even less impressed with it all than usual. He’d not wanted a fuss, had Walter. In August in Edinburgh, it seems there’s not much else.

So this raises an interesting question: if this had been my first impression of Edinburgh, would I have liked it as much? How much difference is made by the people? And what does that say about me?

I think I would have excused it actually. After all, it’s clear that for eleven months of the year, this city is a little quieter, and perhaps a little more suited to introverts. And in any case, I’m not here for that reason.

I had some free time yesterday, so I thought I might walk up Calton Hill and overlook Edinburgh from the Dugald Stewart monument. I did that before and loved the aspect of the city, the castle, the Forth Bridge and the estuary that stretches silent and blue out to sea. I didn’t go though; I could see crowds of people up there. Then it started raining, so I zipped up my hood and headed for shelter.

So, is this a different city? Kind of. It’s a snapshot of a city at a moment, and festival-time is a huge part of what makes Edinburgh Edinburgh, even if it makes it hard to walk anywhere. But look up, Walter, look around, see the black and grey stonework and the grand old buildings of the Athens of the North. It’s all still there.