The old woman who lived in a shoe

And had so many children she honestly did not know where to put them. Well, I'd like to think that I've managed a bit better in arranging sleeping quarters for my five friends who came to visit me in Edinburgh, and in the minuscule flat. The evening scenes were reminiscent of the dwarfs from Disney's Snow White, although, in the end, no one slept in the cupboard.

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Layered jelly in all its splendour.

I celebrated their arrival by making layered jelly. Living alone brings out the Monica in me, seriously! Still, I've always wanted to make it. I remember it being one of the few desserts available when I was a child; even the most basic cafe always had tall glasses of layered jelly, or jelly cut up in cubes, standing in the refrigerated glass displays, gathering dust. It was served with an optional dollop of whipped cream. Which was not a great idea really, melting cream on warming up jelly is not terrible appealing. Still, it has sentimental value so as I was waiting for the guys and girls to arrive I played around with layers of green and yellow. You have to make a portion of jelly first, pour it into glasses, wait for it to cool, put it in the fridge, wait for it to set, and repeat. It takes a long time. Also, foolishly, I used all the glasses I had in the house in the process, so I had nothing to serve tea in when my long awaited guests finally made it there. Jelly requires sacrifices.

On the following day, childishness continued. First, we had a copious brunch in the National Gallery Cafe. Following a friend's suggestion I ordered a buttery, and very soon it turned out that one is not enough. Apparently from Aberdeen, the buttery is the ugly cousin of a croissant. It does actually look like a croissant that somebody sat on, but do not let the appearances fool you, for it is far superior to a croissant in taste. It is just more buttery I suppose! Highly recommended.

The Water of Leith.

From there we paid a brief visit to the Royal Mile and the castle, and then decided to walk along the river towards the sea. It was a lovely day, and the first time I have really felt the spring is on its way. I've never explored that section of the Water of Leith before, and now I'm looking forward to walking it again through small parks, along the water, and emerging into the quay.

Spring comes to Victoria Quay.

Somehow we were inspired to continue along the water (ok, it was my idea), which was not easy one you passed Victoria Quay. I was shocked to discover that the only way to get into the Britannia Royal Yacht is to pass through a commercial centre. You can't even see it from the embankment as the whole area around it is a closed car park with high fencing and scary signs. As much as I wanted to see it, I am now intent on boycotting it.

At the port.

Where the cormorans hang out.

We pushed on West along shopping malls, through roadworks, past massive siloses, and through new urban developments. Feeling teenagy and silly we snacked on goo eggs and kept walking in spite of everything until we reached Newhaven harbour. We were all tired and hungry by then, so the unexpected appearance of the lovely harbour was a delightful surprise. The sun was just beginning to descend, the bay was calm, and we could see clear across to the other side. It was irresistible. There was a pub, too. What was to be done? We got pints and sat on the cobbles by the water's edge to watch the tide lick the stones, and to admire the white lighthouse, and to spy on kayakers, and to let the view seep in.

Newhaven harbour.

Kayaking in the Firth.

It was excellent, nearly summery, with the low sun and the lazy sound of the waves, the sound of my Polish summers. The view was vast. We sat there and chatted until it got cool and moved on back to our communal burrow. Then we feasted on take away food, dragged out the mattresses, sprawled out and watched a weird Cohen brothers movie until late, sipping beer. When it finished, we all fell asleep in the same room in a big heap. It was practically a slumber party, a perfect end to a teenage day.

Dream-like vision of spider man and lighthouse at Newhaven.