Secret Edinburgh: Dan Nightingale views the city from the hill with no name

Behind Marchmont Road out past the Meadows at the south side of Edinburgh, where I stay when I’m at the destival, there’s a hill with the Royal Obseravtory at the top. It’s less well known than Arthur's Seat, but it’s always quieter.

 

Sometimes I try and run up it, most times I just walk to the top. It’s where I head of an afternoon to clear my head and detach myself from the festival. I have a sit and watch the city. Knowing all the madness of the Fringe is going on below, but not being able to hear anything but the wind rushing in from the Firth is a hugely relaxing feeling.

 

The last time I was there I watched a rain storm sweep over the city from the coast and quietly chuckled to myself thinking of all the flyer teams getting drenched, the tourists ducking into Free Fringe shows for cover rather than culture and the comedians heading to their venues cursing the Edinburgh weather. Then it started raining and I got wet, which I supposed I deserved, though really I didn’t mind.

 

I don’t actually know the name of the hill but I suppose I don’t need to. I know where it is.