A beautiful day to fall in love with the United Kingdom. Dark and gloomy, the morning crept out of London Road and slid towards Old College. The drizzle, followed by a failed attempt to catch a bus, ended up in a cab. Red Light Indicates that Doors are Secure. Compliments on my Sco'ish accent from the driver compensate the overpriced trip to the King's Buildings. The city looks inspiring today: colors, shapes and textures defined by man and refined by time, evoke stories, images, sensations. Students hassling around during lunch break, the cafes are busy, the smells exciting. The city is alive on a Thursday. The city is alive every day. It is a city of young people after all. It's our city, our young, happy, promiscuous, trendy and yet old, gloomy, uneasy and dark city. Red double-deckers meander the uneven roads, red-bearded men (and women) wear kilts on a winter day, a slow bagpipe folk version of The Kinks' You really got me is all you hear on South Bridge. Sun and birds. And melting snow. Drinking tea and talking about the weather seems like the perfect stereotype. But everything is so uncommon.
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