Today is overcast and grey in Edinburgh, but no rain is forecast so I am going to get out and about soon.

I had a pleasant breakfast in the hotel. It was exactly the same as yesterday, except, there were waffles rather than pancakes. It will be the same tomorrow. All over the world, variations of the same breakfast, are being served in hotels.

It was the usual buffet: cooked breakfast (sausages, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried potatoes); continental (cold meat and cheeses); mueslis and cereals; breads and pastries, and fruit and yoghurt. There is something comforting about the sameness of the scene each morning. Day after day guests, from all over the world, partake of the same food. If alone we sit in silence studying our screens or reading a book. The only conversation is with the staff serving tea or coffee and asking whether you would like toast or not. But there is camaraderie in the event. It is a cosy aloneness.

Yesterday I walked the city and looked at the architecture. It is more austere and serious than the architecture of its pretty southern cousin, London. And the sandstone is covered in black soot, a product of years of domestic coal consumption. Weirdly it does not detract from the beauty of the buildings, but matches the steely skies, and Castle Rock, where the castle that dominates the skyline of the city is perched. It is hard to make out from a distance where the rock finishes and the manmade fortress begins. The effect is seamless. It is incredible to think that the castle has been a royal residence since the 12^th century.

In the evening I had a drink at the New Club, housed in a hideous grey building on Princes Street (reminiscent of the utilitarian architecture of Eastern Europe during the Cold War). However, there were ceiling to floor windows, framing spectacular views of the castle, making up for the terrible facade.

Apart from my tour on foot I, mostly, stayed in the hotel, reading and thinking. A break from the routine of home life, in a neutral environment, stimulates the mental juices, allowing one to analyse where one has been in life and where one wants to go.

I had a swim in the hotel pool. I was blissfully alone for a couple of hours, until a gentleman appeared at the top of the stairs. I was in a tiny Jacuzzi at that point and to my horror, yes, he headed straight towards me. As he lowered his hairy body into the gurgling water, I stood up and said, “Perfect timing. My twenty minutes are up.” He looked disappointed. A younger me may have suffered and made polite conversation with the stranger. The current me could not tolerate one second of sharing the same water with him. Off I trotted to the changing room.

So off I go to enjoy my last day.