Lunch-time wanderings again but on this occasion with a twist. The COVID-19 calamity presented the chance to obtain a soulless, way-too-sharp semi-decent snap of London Road from the roundabout. And yes, I was ‘distancing’ as I ordinarily do (for people in this part of the world generally stink), and also donning ‘Corona Clobber’, i.e., latex gloves and surgical mask.
In any other age, the frame would be rammed with our clunky buses. But not today.
2020 is historical.
I must confess I found this most amusing – three seats symmetrically arranged for the grand spectacle that is a foot sculpture in a park. Is the purpose to sit there and stare at it? Amidst the dog shit and the litter, the football casuals and the junkies, this monument to the human foot is the regal gateway to Leith.
I’ll never understand why the alleged ‘hard-as-nails’ denizens of Edinburgh shit their nappies when the rain arrives; you’d think it’s a hurricane descending upon The Burgh, Bill Paxton en route with his gear.
Here is a standard ‘thunderstorm’ … and a pale local (based on physiognomy most likely a junkie) with an umbrella eyeballing me as he sucks on a lollipop. Wanker.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 
