Wednesday, 3 June 2015

Eleven go to Edinburgh - Day 2



Oh dear, another exhausting day! Breakfast in our temporary home went smoothly before we ventured out into the balmy Edinburgh morning to catch the train to Deep sea World. The train journey was an adventure especially as we crossed the Forth Rail Bridge and looked out over North Queensferry. A lovely walk down an exceptionally steep hill took us to the rarified surroundings of Sea World. After a lengthy, and occasionally, surreal talk about sharks we pottered about looking at all manner of aquatic creatures. We watched the seals being fed before the Stronsay Eleven declared themselves to be hungry. Again. It was 11.45am and the staff were still green around the gills from the eating fest that was Cosmo. We enjoyed our lunch overlooking some strangely green water in the disused quarry. Not as strange as the sign that described the water as "reddish-brown".
What we had all conveniently forgotten was the exceptionally steep hill. As we left Deep Sea World, an Orkney type wind embraced us and we staggered, groaning, back to the station. On reaching Edinburgh we hopped on an open top vintage bus for a tour of the city. The guide was witty and informative, the weather bracing. After an all too brief interlude, it was off for a pizza. Please, no more food. The Stronsay Eleven did us proud by polishing off the most enormous pizzas known to man. This is where it all went downhill. And uphill. And up more steps than we knew existed. Marching at double time to make the 7.30pm start at the theatre we dashed across the city. The Grand Old Duke of York would have been proud. With seconds to spare we settled into our seats for the performance. It is a measure of our fortitude that we all stayed awake and no-one was sick. The play ended and we knew that an evening walk across town was impossible. We were full of pizza and ice-cream, exhausted after the Edinburgh route march, and unable to walk another step. But no! A number 16 bus appeared in the distance. One that we knew would stop outside the youth hostel. Unfortunately, it was on the opposite side of the road and we were nowhere near the bus stop. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's Mr. Pietri. It what can only be described as a jaw-dropping dash, he sprinted to the bus stop and stopped the bus. Spurred on by his example, we all ran after him and sank into the welcome seats of the number 16. Usain Bolt had better watch out. Needless to say, the Stronsay Eleven, made a beeline for their beds in preparation for their day at the Scottish Parliament. These MSP's don't know what they've got in store.












 



















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