Old College

Yesterday it seemed that the students were back in town with hardly an intake of breath between their arrival and the departure of the majority of festival visitors.

The young ones were everywhere, in clumps of the same kind.

There were the blonde, long limbed, confident 'Sloane Rangers', talking in loud Home Counties accents, and possibly studying the History of Art or Politics.

Then there were the douce homegrown Scottish students from country places, looking slightly lost in the big city and attired in warm homely dress unlike their south of England brethren.

There were foreign students, and students who were young and immature enough to have their anxious parents in tow to make sure that their offspring were settled into University life to their satisfaction, helicopter parents, you might say.

At least I didn't see any Goths around. In son#1's day, they constituted yet another group- a native species and intent on making a statement.

And so yesterday I thought that this part of Edinburgh was settling down for an autumn term of student extravaganza- parties, late nights, youthful excesses, busy local supermarkets and bicycles everywhere, a scenario which would probably last until a week before Christmas when some study might be required.
Then the coffee shops would be clogged with computer wielding students lingering for hours over a cup of coffee, sheaves of notes lying on the free chair beside them.

But what do you know? This morning there's hardly a student in sight. They have vanished into thin air, and all is quiet on the home front. I am mystified.