Relief and Feasts in Edinburgh
"Memory binds one to something from which there is no legal divorce. It is there: 'for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness or in health.'" - Garnet Wilson
Hi, I’m Patricia Hurducaș, a Romanian writer living in The Hague. I write about attention, memory, and place, and I interview people about the places they hold dear.
“Memory binds one to something from which there is no legal divorce. It is there: ‘for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness or in health.’ Therefore, one might as well contrive by conscious effort to have a good one.” - Garnet Wilson
Overspill: A Record of Anecdote and Activity: A Second Memory Book
Edinburgh is a peculiar choice to spend a weekend to fully “rest” in at the end of August, but as always this city is a compelling call anytime in my life when there’s a big shift.
Edinburgh is anything but restful at this time of year, especially for a traveler like me staying at a motel on Cockburn Street, a magnet for tourists and locals alike drawn to its imposing Victorian character. I absolutely loved this street the last time I stayed here, so I insisted on coming back, very aware that I would have to wake up early to have undisturbed wandering time.
The city centre is hectic and loud, plastic made-in-China souvenirs with Scottish flags overflow from stores, promises of the finest cashmere, and invitations to whisky tastings at every corner. So, I walk and walk, using all my mental energy to avoid the frantic zig-zag of people, to notice the beauty of buildings at a hurried foot’s speed, to make my way towards another portion of fish and chips at Bertie’s.
I find some places of relief every early morning, basking in the golden light on my way to grab some filter coffee, and there’s so much comfort in these moments. I don’t desire anything but a few moments like these as I am swallowed by the busyness of the city most days, and I vividly remember Lispector’s words from her crônicas, of feeling worse than a beggar woman as I don’t know what to ask for.
I’ve been taking involuntary time off from writing, as I was waiting for two things to come to an end, the worst thing is not to have an end in sight to something that consumes us. But as with almost everything in life, things come all at once, so on an ordinary Thursday I got two resolutions, two big reliefs I had been waiting on for a while.
This space right after the much-desired and long-awaited outcomes, the ones which always seemed out of sight, is a peculiar place to be in. At Angels with Bagpipes I order a feast of small plates of Scottish dishes, salmon, fish, and crab, and a glass of white wine to celebrate outcomes I had been chasing relentlessly for weeks, and some for more than a year. And yet, as enjoyable as this meal is, there’s no extra added satisfaction; I would have enjoyed it just as much in the midst of all the uncertainty.
One could argue that two big resolutions should bring huge reliefs, but as with everything in life, I feel the full effects are slightly delayed. Relief is not instant; something still persistently throbs even after much-awaited outcomes. It’s almost an in-between ennui despite getting what one asked for.
I know I have two options, as this state of being is fertile, potent. I could keep asking for extraordinary things, but I would have to be prepared to give chase. Or I can dwell in the comforting, piercing honesty of the very simple.
For the time being, I will keep feasting on the ordinary.
Thank you for reading. I’ll be in Istanbul for a week starting tomorrow, so if any readers are in the city and would like to grab a coffee, write me an email.
Patricia
It's such a nice city. I would really love to visit again.