I couldn’t help but feel more than once that I might have missed out on something about the city because the sun shined throughout most of our stay. We were cozy with our jammies and books before the sun set each night. I can only imagine walking through dim-lit streets muffled in dense fog, with the towering dark buildings crowding above me and the formidable echoes of drips in pooled rain under even darker bridges. Black figures walking briskly, wrapped in cloaks to stay warm and avoid being seen… intense cerebral and secretive conversations in hazy orange corners of pubs… someone just might convince me a ghost tour would be worthwhile there. There’s something sinister and sexy about Edinburgh at night, in a very un-Vegas way.
Or, at least I imagine there is. We don’t get out after dark much these days.