Memories of Thistle Street

As I often do when I'm in Edinburgh I'm staying in a hotel in the Grassmarket, a short walk from the Royal Mile. There are some excellent restaurants in the area and the hotel itself boasts a bright fifth floor dining room with floor to ceiling windows that overlook the back of the castle. It's a great place to have a full Scottish breakfast but I may have to give it a miss tomorrow because I've got an eight o'clock meeting.

When we moved to Edinburgh in January 1993 we rented a flat in Thistle Street, which is about as central as you can get. Thistle Street runs parallel to George Street in the New Town and has bags of 18th century charm. In our first week the cobbled street disappeared under a thick white blanket of snow. I'll never forget it.

We lived above an antique shop which was owned by our landlord, the father of a friend of mine. Aldric was quite a character. He owned numerous properties in Thistle Street. Our flat was originally a series of single rooms. Aldric bought them, one by one, as the owners died or sold up.

To give you an idea of living conditions 200 years ago, an original notice above the door of our sitting room read: "No more than 14 people shall live in this room". Our bedroom was a similar size so I assume that up to 14 people were allowed to live in there as well.

I loved living in Thistle Street because it was so close to everything you could ever want or need - pubs, restaurants, newsagents ... and tea shops. I used to spend hours reading the papers and eating toasted teacakes in the local tea shops. (Now I think of it, that's when I started to put on weight, so Edinburgh has a lot to answer for.)

After 18 months we bought a flat in Morningside, a mile or so from the city centre, and later still we moved to a house in Dalkeith, just outside Edinburgh. But for atmosphere, charm and convenience, Thistle Street was impossible to beat.