Newhaven Here I Come

Why, wash my mouth out, my coffee companions yesterday morning were good fun even if they don't share my enthusiasm for aerobic activities. And the motto is :- Never judge a book by its cover.

I even managed to earn my coffee by installing lost programmes on my hostess's television but failed miserably to get Google Chrome to interact with the internet on her PC. I'm afraid I've lost Brownie points on that score when I couldn't find how to turn off her Firewall to see if that helped the connection. I blame it on being an Apple girl, in shape, gender and computer proclivity.

Having had a tip off from our esteemed leaders about the source of to- die- for famous fake notebooks, my bus pass and I travelled down to Newhaven this morning in search of the said goodies.
With success in my bag and also a treasured squeezy jar of Marmite, which made the sortie all that much more effective, I strolled along to the harbour and through the lanes of the old village of Newhaven.

What a quaint spot it is , and how different it feels to the city at the back, snapping at its heels.
In the life of my grandparents, Leith and Newhaven were not in the boundaries of Edinburgh and you were proud to be called a Leither, as they were.
To me, now, I might as well be in another town. In fact while I was busy taking photos, someone asked if I was on holiday, and indeed it felt like that.

Eventually a no 11 bus brought me back to my spot on the south side of the city with all the hurly burly of the Fringe crowds and general razzmatazz.

I'm not a Leither, but I did enjoy my visit today.