Royal Mile

Annemique collected Archie this morning, and they headed off to the Hermitage, then up Blackford Hill, then back to the Links for a BBQ. Archie is fair puckered out! What a grand day they had for it too. Jenna came round with them in the afternoon, still on a crutch after her knee operation.

We took advantage of the dogless day to go into town for lunch, availing ourselves of the free bottle of Prosecco that Pizza Express dish out in your birthday month. Very kind of them. Christine left Rufus at home, and kindly came along to help us consume it.

JR took then off into town for a browse, while Christine and I took a wander down the Royal Mile. I should have known better, but we stopped at a street performer. They're all the same - they take an hour to arrive at the climax, and it's usually not worth it. This one definitely wasn't worth it, but he'd shout out at people if they left. Some Chinese people left and he called out, ’Hey! China! Don't leave! You've got all the money!' This was when he was suggesting the £20 would an acceptable donation at the end. What a cheek. He made everybody clap in time, and one man wasn't, so he told him he'd tell everyone that he tucked his shirt into his underpants (which he did). Poor man started clapping.

I was pointing my phone at the audience, who were much more interesting than him, when he caught sight of me not paying attention properly. ’Hey Grandma! Get your video ready!' and did a few suggestive wiggles for me. Charming.

We made our escape by walking backwards, and disappearing into the crowd.

Roll on the Festival. I do hope the street performers are of a better calibre.