When is a mini break not a mini break? When it’s a tiny break. That is, just 48 hours in total. I got back from Edinburgh yesterday afternoon, exactly 48 hours after I left. And I believe I have now cracked that great mystery of ‘how to have a successful holiday after having a baby’. The answer, my friends, is: Leave The Baby At Home.
Sorry to be glib. It actually wasn’t that easy, but it wasn’t that hard either. I dropped her off with my mum (who she loves to death) and only felt a tiny bit teary as I walked away – she was totally happy and playing so it wasn’t some great big emotional scene. The train journey up was bloody lovely – nice and quiet and I read a whole book and scoffed Pret and it was like being a grown up again. I also bought OK magazine for the first time in ages but never actually got round to reading it. I feel I need to mark this as some sort of pinnacle of maturity. The thing is, I usually buy Red mag (if I buy mags at all, which I never do any more – my 15-year-old self who dreamed of being a magazine journalist would be beside herself with sadness) but there were none left in WHSmith in Kings Cross. So I bought OK because it’s the kind of crappy thing I usually like reading in the hairdresser’s. But when it came down to it: just me, the train and the magazine, I found that I actually didn’t care. I looked at the cover several times, taking in all the trying-to-be-tantalising-titbits about various slebs I was vaguely aware of and I found I didn’t care enough to even open the damn thing. How times have changed.
Hmm. Not sure what the point of that little sidestep was, but I guess as an admission it won’t help my ‘career’ if I ever decide I want to get back into the meeja properly. Anyway… yes, my tiny break. Edinburgh is bloody lovely. Beautiful. Why did no one tell me this before? I’ve only been to Scotland a couple of times before – once on a rather disastrous honeymoon with my ex husband (we stayed in the middle of nowhere in the Highlands in JANUARY and it was freezing and boring and the water in the toilet was brown because it was filtered through peat or some such nonsense – anyway, nothing romantic about that trip) and then once for a wedding. I never knew Edinburgh was so pretty, and had such fab landscapes all around it. Also, thank you weather gods, because the sun shone all day – we walked 16km exploring the city as much as we could and I enjoyed every second. I didn’t even think about the baby much, which makes me feel ashamed and feminist all at the same time.
She was fine, anyway, and had a lovely time with her grandparents. And best of all, Oli’s show, Simply Bowie (a pared-back, Jazz interpretation of some of David Bowie’s hits), was a phenomenal success. They had no PR budget yet it was packed out every night, they were on Scottish TV and BBC Radio Scotland and the feedback was unanimously positive. I was so proud and I’ve been blathering all about it all over social media ever since we returned. But in case you’ve missed it, you can check out his Facebook page for more info and you can also buy the album on iTunes (or stream it, if you can figure out how on earth to use this new bloody Apple Music – if you can, you’re a wiser (wo)man than me).
My only regret about Edinburgh is that I was only there for one day, and that day was the last day of the Fringe, so lots of the shows had already finished. As a result there wasn’t much on offer to see, and the atmosphere was a little more subdued than I had expected. I did however, get to witness the awesome last night fireworks. So, you know, swings and roundabouts.