LAST WEEK'S JAUNT TO EDINBURGH

Spent a couple of days in Edinburgh last week. This was in order to meet up with some people I hadn't seen since I was about 20, but all sorts of things happen, of course when you're there.

A TRIP TO TESCO'S
Going grocery shopping with my son has always been fun, ever since he discovered, at the age of about 3, that he could get his name shouted out over the tannoy if he wandered up to a member of staff and pretended to be lost. Nowadays he sticks defenceless women in shopping trolleys and gives them a quick hurl around the car park. (But then again, just how defenceless is Jenny, really....?)

GIANT HOGWEED AT FORT KINNAIRD
I was surprised to see this stuff still growing in Edinburgh, and in such large, obvious clumps too, after all the work people did in the past trying to eradicate it. Squads of people went out, hauling it up by the roots and burning it. But here it is, growing at the roadside next to Fort Kinnaird, one of those big retail parks that have sprung up around the town since I left. Giant hogweed was a serious pest in Edinburgh when I lived there. It infested the banks of rivers, railway tracks - anywhere that the seeds could be transported. The sap can cause skin lesions if exposed to sunlight, and children used to uproot the stuff to use the stems as telescopes or pea-shooters. You can imagine the results. Why is it being allowed to grow in such a populous area?

THE WAVERLEY
We used to hang around there when we were young and even more foolish than we now are. It's hardly changed. Every Saturday night there was folk music upstairs, and in those days, in Edinburgh, the folk scene was the cool place to be. (Yeah, I know, from our ever-so-knowing
21st-century viewpoint that might be hard to believe, but really, it's true.) We played music, folk and blues and stuff, and there was good Scottish heavy beer, and certain other substances, and everything else you might associate with groups of young people - and some not quite so young - under the influence of such substances. As time passed some of us went here, and others went there, and others stayed put and drank themselves to death, or just got old. Some survived, others disappeared, but most settled down, had kids and played music to them. We all lost touch.

The nice thing about the internet is that you sometimes find people again, quite unexpectedly, even when you're not looking for them. Jim (above) and I found each other by chance, and although neither of us now lives in Edinburgh we thought it'd be fun to track down a few other old reprobates and get together in the old place. Amazingly, this actually happened, and was so successful that we're hoping to do it again soon. I was surprised to see Jim's astonishing hair, but even more surprised to find that Harry (above) is now 74 and still - after a brief respite of a few decades - a master of the blues guitar. He has always looked younger than his years.

There are other photos to be seen here - some of these are the ancient black and white ones which started this whole thing off when I published them on Flickr, and people started creeping out of dusty corners, giving themselves a shake, and declaring their memories of Sandy Bell's, Stewart's, the Waverley and other somewhat disreputable musical pubs of the late 60s and 70s.

A BIG EMPTY HOUSE AND FOXES ON THE LAWN
Camping overnight in a big empty house with hardly any lightbulbs should be a creepy experience, but it wasn't really. I had my torch, and a comfy bed, and a MÖRKER table lamp from Ikea. What more could I ask for? Foxes, of course.

You open the shutters on a fine Tuesday morning, look out across the lawn, and see a family of 4 big healthy foxes cavorting on the grass by the shrubbery. That's the way to start your day. It really is. And even better, you discover your camera is lying there beside you, just waiting to be used.

I watched them for about half an hour as they chased each other across the grass, engaged in play-fighting, and scrambled up and down on to walls like cats. Eventually they went off in search of food, which kindly Edinburgh people tend to leave out for them. No huntsmen with hounds here.

I was interested to note that their behaviour is far more cat-like than dog-like, despite their canine appearance. They are quiet, graceful in their movements and have the ability to climb and jump and land elegantly. Like cats, of course, they're predators. Here in the country they're not popular, as people keep poultry, but in the cities they have found a safe haven. Good luck to them, beautiful wild creatures that they are.

There are more foxy photos here