Haymarket is a bit of a toilet at times but a charming one. And that bar you see, Ryrie’s. So many fond memories, life moments! We used to (and might intend to in the post-pandemic future) get utterly fucking wasted there on a Sunday school night and end up on an unscripted adventure with a troupe of travelling actors (Shakespeare in Murieston Park) or tourists on a three-week bender.
I’ve met some good pals in that bar. And that’s what bars are for.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 