Eventually I came to an oddly familiar crag precariously perched on a series of hills above an estuary. A dark sky boiled above oily waves as they dashed themselves on the rocks beneath as though urging them on in their suicidal ambitions.
I had never seen such a bleak, dispiriting place.
Who could live here and more importantly, why?
The roiling clouds cleared just enough for me to make out signs of what passed for human habitation: a series of shambling, dilapidated shacks that looked like the track of some contagion upon diseased skin.
Now I knew what I was looking at and wished to the god I didn’t believe that I had been left in ignorance.
Edinburgh, mon amour.