




Good times, people, good times...
"Today there was more than the usual excitement on North Castle Street.
Short version of story is that Car thief/ Joyrider steals car...drives up North Castle Street being hotly pursued by the polis...hangs a left into Thistle Street at speed and loses control...car ends up in the basement area of the building on the corner...My office is just about directly opposite this and I got some photos..."
Perhaps more than any other city in the UK, Edinburgh's identity is closely bound up with its dark, gloomy drinking dens - a fug of smoke always having hung inside them alongside the smell of hops and a murmur of Caledonian accents.
"She worked as a barmaid in working men's clubs from the age of 20," he grimaces. "Never touched a cigarette in her life, but the doctors said they'd never seen a worse set of lungs.
"She was left with two stumps where her legs should have been. I don't have any trouble getting up in the morning when I think of her."