The 20.10 to Edinburgh pulled out of Cardiff central station. £146 well spent I thought to myself. I had always liked trains, and easily settled in. I was to change at Crewe for the sleeper. This brought back memories of my student days when I had to change at Crewe for Manchester. That was the last time I was with a women. Well she was a girl, and I was too. I wouldn’t have ever thought that I would be on the same train station, fifteen odd years later, because I was running away from another girl the same age as I was then, when I was supposed to be grieving for my mother and searching for my spunk dad. The train run to time. I shared a carriage with a persistent snorer who made an
awful racket. He sounded like a Welshman with a cold. So I didn’t get any sleep again. I was famished and exhausted by Edinburgh, and thought that the best option was to look for a cheap hotel to rest my head and get some food and tea. I walked out of the station, and passed the guards who looked at me like I didn’t
have a ticket. I had no change of clothes, only packing underwear, expecting I was going to treat myself to a spree in the Cardiff shops. Then I walked out of the station and realised that I had never been to Scotland before - what a wonderful day! I walked and walked for hours. I visited the castle, went for a walk to the old underground city, searched for ghosts, screamed hysterically at the guides dressed in their oldie worldy costumes. Edinburgh was wonderful and I couldn’t wait to return under better circumstances. Perhaps I could bring Leanne during the Edinburgh Festival. I’m sure we could find common ground in such a beautiful city. We could catch a couple of comedians. I would even take her to a gig. So I decided to look for venues where they played live music.
At the bottom of a Cowgate Street, was Bannerman’s. This looked like the kind of place that might have bands. I walked into the bar through the door and ordered. The barman looked like a Viking with a big ginger beard. Another ginger I thought. “Give me a double whisky!” It went straight down my throat. My stomach could no longer tolerate food. It had been so long since my last meal. “Another, barman.” He poured the drink. “Are you ok, lady?” “I am perfectly fine,” I responded. “You don’t look fine.” Well this really made me angry, I was in a volatile state, I was travelagged,
hungry, semi-drunk and very weary. “Why don’t you mind your own business, ginger bollocks. Do your job and pour
me another whisky.” Well the bartender and I were taken aback by my behaviour. I threw the double down my throat. I had no idea what time of day it was. The bar was
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