Secret Edinburgh: The Blanks strain the boundaries of social norms

Like most sun-worshippers you’ll find us by day basking in the glorious Scottish rays, getting our tans on. Which in Edinburgh means rooftops. Glance upward from Prince Street and you should not be surprised to see the glistening of four men in Speedos, covered in jojoba oil, clinging to the side of the Sir Walter monument. Savvy tourists know it’s not just the Edinburgh castle that has the “one o’clock gun show”.

 

In the early evening, before our Gilded Balloon show, you will probably find us gathered around a trash can – sorry, rubbish bin – that we’ve set ablaze, warming up our hands and voices. (For a capella singers, it’s just the way it’s done).

 

Post-show we meet in the lobby to greet our charming and discerning fans, then head to the Greyfriars Bobby for a pint of Aspall's, where all are welcomed, particularly tipsy heiresses. What follows is a stroll through the Meadows, where we shed our civilian garb to reveal suits of skintight black leather bristling with weapons. For some of us, the secret war against the denizens of the underworld (particularly undead boater-wearing barbershop quartets) never ends. Afterwards, we often stop at Beirut restaurant for a traditional Scottish kebab.