Harry Potter, and The Cafe's Bathroom

Want some updates from Scotland?

Alright. They won’t actually be normal updates, but then again, I’ve proven beyond a doubt I’m not normal.

Ghost tours. I love them. And there are plenty here in Auld Reekie. Not only do they make you miss out a few more hours of sleep, but they tend to delve into the history a bit is well, even explaining what Auld Reekiemeans(not a polite dinner conversation, mind you. On many, there’s a screamer at the end, however, one tour I went on had no screamer. Not a fake one, anyway. While passing through a public street mid-way through the tour, a member of the group spotted a young, thin college-age woman climbing out of the window of her two story flat onto the very thin window sill below.

Inside, one could here incomprehensible screaming from what I presumed to be her female flatmate. The girl tried to climb down, but a mix of our own screamed warning and the fact there was nothing below her feet made her stop. She turned around, and said hi, before climbing back inside the window, though not before the tour guide called the police.

We also have had the pleasure of a quirky fire alarm in our flat. Now, my flat is pretty good, considering how close it is to the designated freshmen buildings. I have nice roommates, a nice view, and a darn decent room. The neighbors haven’t tried to kill me yet, which I always consider a good thing, and it keeps the property rates up too.

But one minor thing about it did get bit annoying yesterday. It seems we have a very sensitive fire alarm. So sensitive, in fact, all one needs to do is glare at it, and it sends the whole flat into chaos because it’s scared you may do something wrong with your grill. So, we had a small on at 5pm, then another at 7. Tings got bad when we had one, at, let’s say, 2AM. Thankfully, the people handling the situation were there in 5 minutes (good work, guys!). My flat mates were a bit worried when one person in our flat didn’t come out of her room during the whole 20 minutes, and began contemplating if she died due to shock. Thankfully, it turned out she was out buying ice cream.

Anyway, all seem fine and dandy after that. I was fast asleep, dreaming of gumdrops and lollipops and whatever else girls my age probably dream about. When a mysterious ringing started in my dream. Perhaps the chocolate palace was on fire, I thought? As it continued, I realize that none of my chocolate dream companions were on fire, yet the sound kept growing louder and louder.

I awoke with a start, muttered a few choice words to tell the world what I thought of it, grabbed a sweater, and ran outside, where the rest of the block was waiting. We were all used to it now, and far too tired to actually care, so there was no chaos, and very little discussion. All the jokes we could think of had been worn out the previous 3 times. Then someone said one of the RAs was stuck in the building. We considered making a rescue team to go back into the noisy building, but deiced we were too tired to. Turns out, he was asleep in another flat.

Long story short, the building was never on fire, and I hate our fire alarm.

Also, have some pictures. The usual gamut or Arthur’s seat and Edinburgh in general. “But Alice,” you say in annoyance, Why are there blurred-out pictures of Graffiti about some weird person named J.K Rowling?” Well dear reader, don’t fret – I haven’t ended up in an insane asylum where I need to scrawl out words of warning to the warden James Kevin Rowling… et. The Elephant house is a popular café in Edinburgh. The tea is good, but the posterity is even better. Yes, this is the same café where Mrs. Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book in relative peace when she was a nobody and tourists wouldn’t stop her on the street all the time. The photos are blurry, sorry, but I hope you can see some of the great quotes fans have adorned the bathroom with. Perhaps the bathroom is a portkey, or a portal to Diagon Alley? Hmm….