NORTHUMBRIAN SUMMER PART IV


Edinburgh, Scotland 2025

We’re still in Edinburgh. We’re walking down the Royal Mile. It’s festival season. There are plenty of shows to watch, and the one we saw first was by Max Von Trapp. Not to be confused with the Sound of Music Von Trapps, but a comic magician. One of my favourite kinds. The jokes and tricks rolled fast, as did my laughter.. Kate laughs at all the jokes, even the more adult-focused ones, just like Killian did when we visited the festival when he was that age.

Saint Giles was our next stop. As you know, I’m Catholic, not Protestant. As we wandered through the national Cathedral of Scotland, I was struck not only by the beautiful organ music, but by the lack of the familiar Stations of the Cross, the statues. The centre of attention was not the Lord and the sacrifice of the Mass, but the preacher’s pulpit. I felt this lack and prayed my daily Rosary, head bowed in prayer.

I joined Kate outside, slightly perturbed by the experience.

Lunch was a kebab. Simple and delicious. Kate loved it.

It was time to move on to see Greyfriars Bobby, a wee brown dog, famous for his loyalty. The legend is such that the people of Edinburgh raised a statue to honour him, and people rub his nose either for luck or as a sign of affection. I went into the Greyfriars Pub for some Guinness, reflecting on my own dog Molly, now 16, who greets me every morning as if I’m her favourite person and gets all excited when I get home from work. I can see why wee Bobby was a legendary dog, and why he inspired so many people.

We wandered through the graveyard looking at the tombs of the citizens of Edinburgh from the past. And we found a certain Thomas Riddell who JK Rowling used in her books. Kate acquiesced and allowed me to take her photo in front of it.

We ventured towards the Covenanters’ section of the graveyard, supposedly the most haunted section. I felt nothing and saw nothing, but Kate started to have a headache. We paid our respects and decided to find Bobby’s grave at the entrance. Kate noticed the sticks put on his grave, as you might leave a favourite dog toy. She just had to go and find him a suitable stick. Bless that dog. Teaching us a valuable lesson in pure love years after his death.

We ventured back out onto the streets of Edinburgh, leaving the relative tranquility of the graveyard behind us. This was about to be the reason she wanted to come to Edinburgh in the first place: a cocktail bar. But not any ordinary cocktail bar. The Geek Bar, decorated every four months into a new theme. The theme she wanted was from a video game that she plays with Killian. Oh no—they’d changed everything… It was now all about Stranger Things on Netflix—something I had heard by name but knew nothing else about.

Liquor? Maybe quicker, but it’s not something I’m a great fan of. The lady took our order and explained the concept. I felt as if I was in Starbucks for the first time. She asked which flavours I liked, and with her expert help, I made up my mind. The drink was obviously dangerous—too smooth, too sweet—and I couldn’t feel the alcohol. Neither could Kate, who was only allowed a mocktail. I have to be a responsible parent after all. The second round was just as deadly, and I was beginning to feel very happy. I wonder why…

So maybe, at the end of all this, the real magic isn’t in the tricks or the drinks or even the famous city. It’s just—being there. Following your children into their weird, wonderful universes, and watching them set the place on fire with laughter.
And really, what’s better than that?

Saint Cado


The concert was for the municipality of Lorient and was more I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine. Sometimes as musicians we have to kowtow to certain political matters to keep the municipality sweet. They said it would be cramped, but it was, at worst, cosy, so no complaints there.

After the concert, I had organised my car so I could sleep in it. I parked up in front of my mother-in-law’s house to spend the night and get some photography in during the early hours of the morning — and because my mother-in-law can be intense, and I don’t like bothering people. It’s not that I don’t like staying overnight in people’s houses, but at one stage on exercise with the RCT (Royal Corps of Transport) back in the late 1980s, I learnt that I could sleep anywhere and that it was nothing to worry about. I didn’t have my sleeping bag from those days, which would let me sleep comfortably in minus temperatures, but I did have a couple of Scottish tartan blankets that would keep me nice and warm.

It wasn’t long before I got off to sleep. I actually slept quite well, considering, and bought myself breakfast at the local boulangerie. No snoring to contend with and no risk of being shouted at because the dog was awake and needed to go outside to poop. Yes, a very satisfying night.

After my wonderful bakery breakfast, I headed to St Cado, which really is a cadeau — a gift — for the eyes. You’ll see what I mean when you see the pictures.

I relish solitude, not just because I’m an introvert, but because I like calm and quiet. And the idea of being up at the crack of dawn is wonderful, especially when I don’t have to get out of my bed and stop hugging my wife. I was on my own and loving every minute of it.

I arrived at St Cado and used the public conveniences, as it is not the done thing to poop in front of everyone. I’m not a dog, after all. St Cado was there waiting for me to get some photos in some beautiful light. I’ve started bracketing lately to get as much as I can out of each image. Bracketing, for those who think I am speaking in Chinese, consists of taking the same photo three times — once with normal metering for light, once underexposed, and once overexposed. Back in the day, you would set up your tripod and take each photo one at a time, but now I press the button and it does it automatically. On film you would lose film doing this, but on digital, with an empty SD card — why not?

As the morning light continued to change and the village slowly came to life, I packed up my gear feeling quietly content. These simple moments — waking early, capturing the beauty of a place like St Cado, and enjoying solitude — remind me why I keep a camera close. It’s not just about the photos, but about being present and finding peace in the everyday. Saint Cado truly was a gift to the senses, and I’m grateful for the chance to savour it in my own way.

The Quiet Orchestra of Cups and Crumbs: Indulging in Tea and Cake at Home


There’s a hush within the walls of home, broken only by the gentle clink of china and the soft rustle of pages turning. Sunlight paints warm squares on the table, and a familiar aroma fills the air – the alluring scent of freshly brewed tea, mingling with the promise of sweet delight. Forget the clamour of cafes and the pressure of trendy patisseries; here, amidst the comfort of your own haven, awaits an indulgence both simple and sublime: the pairing of tea and cake.

This is not just a snack, mind you, but a ritual, a rebellion against the hurried pace of life. Here, you are the maestro, wielding the teapot and cake fork with practiced ease. No deadlines loom, no expectations burden you. Just the quiet orchestra of clinking cups, the warmth of tea on your tongue, and the crumbly symphony of cake yielding to your fork.

But before we lose ourselves in the indulgence, let’s ensure the foundation is perfect. Forget the sacrilege of microwaved water! A proper cup of tea deserves a touch of ceremony. Here’s the secret:

The Art of Brewing:

  1. Choose your weapon: Select your tea wisely. A robust Assam for an invigorating morning, a delicate Darjeeling for a contemplative afternoon, or a fragrant jasmine for a touch of serenity. Loose leaf offers the fullest experience, but quality tea bags work too – I’m thinking Yorkshire tea, Yorshire Gold, or even Barry’s Gold from Ireland.
  2. Heat the water: Water is the soul of tea. Use water heated to the appropriate temperature – boiling for black tea, around 80°C for green tea (except green tea is for hippies or stresed out millenials). Using a kettle helps achieve precise temperature control.
  3. Warm your vessel: Preheat your mug or teapot with hot water to prevent a temperature drop when the tea arrives.
  4. The infusion dance: Measure your tea – a teaspoon per cup. Add the tea leaves to the warmed pot, then pour the hot water gently over them. When using a tea pot, the rule is one spoon of tea for the pot and one spoon of tea per person.
  5. Let it steep: Respect the steeping time! Each tea has its preference – 3-5 minutes for black tea, 2-3 minutes for green tea (for hippies and stressed out millenials). Be patient, this is where the flavour magic happens.
  6. Strain and savour: Once steeped, strain the tea and discard the leaves (unless using a teabag). Now, breathe in the aroma, hold the warm cup in your hands, and take that first sip. Let the flavours bloom on your tongue. I always add milk, which takes off the tanin edge of strong tea.

The Perfect Pairing:

Now, to the cake! Choose a companion that complements your tea’s character. A rich chocolate brownie pairs well with robust teas, while a light, citrusy slice enhances the delicate notes of Darjeeling. Remember, this is your symphony, so experiment and find the perfect harmony.

With each sip and bite, the tension of the day melts away. The world outside can wait, for within these four walls, you’ve created a sanctuary of indulgence. No judgement, no pressure, just the quiet joy of the moment.

So, the next time you crave a moment of solace, skip the cafes and turn inwards. Brew a pot of tea, slice a delightful cake, and settle into the haven of your home. Let the quiet orchestra of cups and crumbles fill your senses, and rediscover the simple yet profound pleasure of indulging in your own company.

And remember, Nantes may boast charming cafes, but the truest indulgence often lies in the quiet corners of your own home, waiting to be savoured with every mindful sip and bite. Take a moment, dear reader, and indulge in the simple symphony of tea and cake at home. You deserve it.

A nice cup of tea made with love ? It’s a hug in a mug!