Whatever that means
It’s hard to believe that I’ve been living in Edinburgh(ish) for 25 years – I moved here from Glasgow in 1989 or 1990 when I got a job at Edinburgh Council in the corporate research unit. After a few months of commuting on some awful early train and leaving at 4pm and never really engaging with anyone, I moved. But 25 years and it was
only this year only late last year that I visited the Abbotsford for the first time. Great traditional pub (although it seems to call itself a gastropub) with a fine selection of beer, although I was a little disappointed to notice tonight that the fire is a fake gas “log” fire. Mind you, having been kippered in the Oxford while they tried to heat the place with some damp wood and two bits of coal, on reflection, I’m glad it was fake.
Tuesday in the pub after a work-related seminar given by a colleague, some “networking” and then the four from out place snatched a quick pint or three. Buggered if I can remember what I was having but it was very nice and had a stupid name . The sort of marketing failure of a name because you feel like a twat asking for it so I was glad that I was able to point when I got the first round.