Spying on Edinburgers, part 2

This friday is my 'leaving do' at work, which means I have one week left in Edinburgh. I've realised I have quite a backlog of unconnected people pictures, and it's time this collection saw the light of day, so here is the second part of my spying on the inhabitants of Edinburgh.

Girls posing for a photoshoot on a chilly day on Carlton Hill.

A musician at the Grassmarket.

The interior of a curious pub on Rose Street.

Fragmented man.

Stylish New Town pedestrian and bodyguard (?).

A sun-struck couple in front of the National Gallery on one of the first days of spring.

A girl in Princes Street gardens.

Fuelling up in a tourist pub on Royal Mile.

Punk not dead.

A dedicated bagpiper on the Royal Mile.

Painting a watercolour of the city, and smoking a pipe in Iverleith park.

Boat race at Inverleith park.

Spying on Edinburgers

Or is it Edinburghers? Or Edinburgians?
After the rather provincial feel of Sheffield it's nice to walk the streets and find interesting people to spy on again. Fashionistas, part-time Burlesque queens, suited-and-booted office cat-walkers, elegant older ladies, happy-go-lucky but ever so fashion-conscious students, all of them parade themselves in front of my lense on Friday afternoon. I often wish I had a pair of those spy glasses, where you just go 'click' in your pocket and get a shot of what - or who - you're looking at. You can actually buy them quite easily now, but the resolution is pitiful, making them useless for anything other than actual spying. I am left with following people around and making a fool out of myself. My theory with photographing people is: no-one ever thinks they're important enough to be photographed, so just go for it. Nine out of ten times they will look back to see what monument or architectural quirk you were pointing at. One out of ten times you have to run fast, but hey, what is life without a bit of risk.

Walking an owner at the Grass Market.

A princes at Princes Str Gardens.

A gentleman with the North Bridge.

Catching up in front of the Scottish National Gallery.

Rush-hour bus queue at Princes Street.

The fairy-tale city.

Possibly a mass case of spinach-stuck-in-teeth syndrome.