Chapter 2: Edinburgh, whump-whump
<p><em>Where I discover that surroundings matter and I’m no longer 25.</em></p>
<p><img alt="" src="https://miro.medium.com/v2/resize:fit:700/1*VvitMBvBW53ZdSUpqn54ng.jpeg" style="height:934px; width:700px" /></p>
<p>In a crack in the stone pedestal of St. Andrew’s statue in the center of Edinburgh, a scrawny weed flowers defiantly and pigeon poop paints the stone white. No one seems to mind. Quintessentially Edinburgh.</p>
<p>If Edinburgh were a person, she’d be an exhausted housewife whose husband spends more time at the pub and whose kids are about to turn into truants. Edinburgh is unnoticed, unpolished, unaware of itself, resigned, gray, stark, scrappy, dour. Glum.</p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/far-and-wide/chapter-2-edinburgh-whump-whump-81759f9f28fd"><strong>Visit Now</strong></a></p>