[1991, during the Edinburgh Festival]
Up at 9. Went with “Pops” (Peter, the hostel owner) to see a play at noon. He seemed to select me as his backpacker pal of the day. I feel a little bit uncomfortable around him, he has this eerie, maybe sexual presence. And he looks exactly like Boris Becker. His clothes are all from the hostel lost property, and he drives a very old, falling apart car. Yet he’s also very rich. I can’t see the point in getting to know such a confusing male. And I still haven’t worked out where he lives, he’s always present. Then I ran to Greyfriars cemetery for “Lord of the Rings” performed outdoors. A storm had commenced, the audience got drenched, and we witnessed the creepy synchronicity of lightning and thunder sounding as if on cue, as Gandalf made doomful speeches. Then night, and the British premier of a NZ film “Meet the Feebles” a puppet splatter movie, a Muppets send-up, by Peter Jackson. It wasn’t brilliant, but at the end En, Paul, Rob, Karl and I gave it a standing ovation. Karl is Rob’s drummer, has recently flown over to rejoin the band, and was one of the puppetteers of the film. Wow, I’m hanging out with media stars! I was all ready for another 3am sleep, but En had organised a climb of Arthurs Seat to watch the sunrise.
“No way En, I’m knackered. I’m sure the sun will rise again in the future sometime”
“Not a problem”, he says, “the other’s will keep me company“, slurring that last word. Then
“Hack, meet Carlos, Johanna and Louisa they’re from the Basque country”
“Eh?”
“It’s between Spain and France. And this is Amy, she’s from California.
Hi, hi, hi, hi. Right are we all ready? I was still awake enough to notice that there were three guys and three girls. And En is spoken for. Carlos might already have something going, but that still leaves two, high on Arthurs Seat, legendary site of romantic conquest.
The night gave us a rare view of the entire Milky Way. Unusual in any city. Louisa didn’t speak English very well, so Carlos was going for her. She was the pretty one. Yohanna was loud, brash and brazen, and attractive in a handsome way. Any relationships would be initiated by her, she was mostly leading our expedition. And Amy was just too sugary and innocent, numbed into silence by the cold, most probably regretting coming. We made the summit at 4:30 and then waited, and waited. En’s half bottle of whiskey was shared and went. Conversation came to a halt. We initially just sat on rocks, waiting. Then the cold killed any shyness, we crammed into a crevice, and had a group cuddle, then slowly watched our faces appear with morning. Except Amy who was almost in the crevice, but on her own, turning blue. En and I would estimate when the sun would come up, and did that many times over before it did. The suns in Scotland are very slow. At the precise moment, our soft observance was interrupted by a hardy Scotsman in kilt and bare legs, who reached the summit with pinpoint timing, drew a long breath from the horizon, then ambled off down the other side leaving a cloud of frozen exhalations. We kept watching until the colours stopped changing, then stiffly walked home.
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