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NotJustAHatStand

People say life is the thing, but I prefer reading*
 

Until next year...

I saw a number of signs on my lunchtime stroll today, that the Edinburgh Festival season is coming to an end. There was a distinct absence of jugglers, pantomime cows, spontaneous singing (well, unless you happen to be passing the Grassmarket), period costume and hippies with tambourines walking barefoot along Princes Street singing kum-bay-ah.

The ginormous purple cow referred to in a previous post is now udderless and legless, and swarming with men in shorts who are dismantling it ready to be taken back to it's stable. I, unlike the skaters who frequent the spot where The Cow is currently residing, am actually quite sad about that. I liked it's big googly-eyed face peeking at me from Bristo Square as I walk past on my way to the office. And seeing a giant set of udders bathed in the morning sunlight is an uplifting, if a little odd, way to start your working day.

It's great not coming back from lunch with a handbagful of flyers for crappy, amateurish shows that you're never going to go and see. The absolute best thing about having Edinburgh back from The Yahs and tourists though, is not having to walk at a snail's pace when trying to navigate the Royal Mile, the Mound, the Bridges, or George IV Bridge. It's a good thing that the Festival only lasts for a month - any longer than that and the tourists would be at a much higher risk of attack by locals who are about to miss their bus.

All in all, I love the Festival, but I also love it when the end of August rolls around and everyone goes home.
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*Logan Pearsall Smith



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