A Solo Trip to Edinburgh

It was the morning of my first full day which brought the sincere satisfaction of only having to cater to myself. After arriving into Edinburgh around 4:30 the afternoon before, I'd dropped my bags off, gone for a wander and then happily waited for a table at Dishoom (mattar paneer is the stuff of dreams), but it wasn't until the next morning, with a full day of unconstrained freedom stretching about before me, that I truly got to appreciate why travelling alone is so enjoyable. I had a rough idea of what I wanted to see but nothing too rigid, so after a cuppa and a biscuit and a delightfully long shower, I walked to the Royal Botanic Gardens to do what probably nobody other than my Mum and Nan would want to do with me: spend hours looking at flowers. And it was bliss! So peaceful. I took hundreds of photos I didn't need to take, ate the cheese baguette I'd packed in my bag like a proper tourist, read signs about flower genera and perused the rhododendron exhibition taking place in Inverleith House, all of which I'd likely have hurried myself along with had I been in the company of another.

I ate my first ever oyster (slimy and salty but would eat again)! Read lots, watched a lot of Brooklyn Nine Nine in the evenings as I discovered I don't much enjoy drinking beyond two or so glasses of wine. That in itself was a revelation for me; I'm much less inclined to drink myself into drunkenness when I'm alone - I even bought a bottle of good wine ('good wine' being universally accepted as anything above £7) to enjoy in the apartment and ended up tipping it down the sink when I left. I love getting up and out in the morning so I wanted to feel fresh, to let my feet guide me and embrace that sense of hope and possibility that the beginning of a day brings, at least before it's weighed down by the general luggage of living.

For the most part, that's what I did: walked. Walked a lot. Around New Town, Old Town, Stockbridge and the West End. I walked myself in circles, not planning where I was going beyond the impulsive instinct of whatever I wanted to do in that particular moment. Despite the rain, which, to be frank, I would have been disappointed had Scotland not delivered on, it was so peaceful. I didn't need to please anybody else other than myself, didn't need to compromise on plans or meet halfway on where to eat or what to do or when to go back or which way was best. If I was tired I stopped. If I wanted to keep exploring, I did. It was that simple. And I felt bizarrely confident being alone, particularly at dinner. Two of the three evenings I spent propped up at the bar, small plates of burrata, sourdough, cured fish, mushrooms and truffles making their way to me while I read. I tried a Negroni for the first time: not my favourite but I'd order another. I let a stranger finish off one of the small plates I couldn't - sharing is caring and all that. I also smoked a fair few cigarettes on the front step of my apartment building because I was on holiday and nobody could stop me. Nobody could stop me! Why haven't I travelled alone sooner?

Anyway, you get the general gist of the trip: walking, eating, resting, reading, taking a thousand photographs of scenery because it makes me happy and I didn't have to worry about slowing anybody else down. I'll share some of those photos with you now and also list some of the places I visited in case you want to book a little solo trip of your own, plus I'll include a link to the apartment I stayed in which was perfectly located for a first time Edinburgh visitor. Aesthetically pleasing too which always helps.