The Water of Leith Walkway is a marked path that leads along a small river flowing through Edinburgh and emptying into the Firth of Forth, the bridges over which I've already told you about. The whole path is about 22 km long, and at first I thought about walking the whole thing in a day. However, man proposes, and fate plays jokes on him. It turned out that I never walked the whole path, just two long chunks and one short one. On this day I didn't have enough time left to go to the very beginning. I took a bus to about the end of the first third, from where I started trudging along, listening to podcasts and YouTube videos a bit.
The path turned out to be beautiful and interesting; it's even amazing how a path with so much nature, sometimes quite untouched, can pass through a relatively large city. The landscape along the way changes too: now hills, now little waterfalls, now tall broadleaf trees, now bushes. The path is usually gravel, sometimes it comes out onto asphalt into the "city," but rarely. You often meet dog walkers, cyclists. Less often — runners and idle wanderers like me.
I think I skipped the story of how I checked into the Airbnb apartment I rented for the remaining time. It happened on Sunday evening, I arrived in my middle of nowhere a bit early, and had to wait for the keys for another 15-20 minutes. A black guy named Relia brought them, with a mumbling accent such that I couldn't understand a thing. I was the only tenant in the apartment. The guy himself hung around in the apartment for a bit, calling somewhere and swearing. I suspect he was trying to get the light in the kitchen and bathroom fixed.
The apartment description had the phrase "no shower, but there is a bathtub," which baffled me. I just couldn't imagine a place without a shower. Is it really such a problem if there's a bathroom in general? It turned out this had already been solved: a device was rigged up to the bathtub faucet, mixing the water and having a shower head at the end.
I must say that I chose the apartment for a long time and with agony, because prices in Edinburgh are nothing to write home about. I wanted to not pay 50 euros a night, and for 10 nights like that. I'm not that rich. Alas, all my agonies of choice did not end in success. I booked a single room, not a whole apartment, and even that was so-so. Even though it was equipped normally, the mattresses, for example, were like in a hospital. They were covered in oilcloth, so your body sweats and it's completely uncomfortable to sleep. It's a bit far from the bus, and the bus itself takes a good while. The furniture, the lamps — all the cheapest and ugliest you can find. Alas, nothing better for sane money could be found, including on Booking. Ideally, I also wanted there to be space for Katya, she was supposed to come from Liverpool to visit for two nights.
Now back to the present. I stayed the night, although I slept badly again, and here I am walking along the path, enjoying nature. And then a message from the host: you have power supply problems in the apartment, and you have to move out. They will refund the money in cash, in full. I was a bit gobsmacked, as my dad says. Nevertheless, what can you do, I wrote ok. I immediately decided not to go to the pad, I had just started my path after all.
Half an hour later I get another message: you really need to move out, so we took your things, and you can get them at our house. We'll return the money in the AirBnB system. Here I was even more surprised, because taking personal belongings is definitely a serious force majeure. In the end, naturally, they lost one of my pills, or rather a half, which I had left out for the night
On my way I frequently came across little benches. I sat down on one of them to book new accommodation. I searched, and I got lucky: one room turned out to be very cheap, 22 pounds a day, and right very close to the center. True, with a catch — it had no reviews. But there were reviews for another apartment of this host, and all entirely positive. Okay, I decided, who doesn't risk, doesn't live in the center. I sent a request, and walked further along the path.
Apparently, I had that kind of mood that day, but I wasn't particularly surprised by anything. After the knee injury and my dad's theory about troubles, it seems I decided to humbly accept the blows of fate from now on. When half an hour later they called me from AirBnB and started taking an interest in my fate for some reason, I wasn't particularly worried anymore. What they wanted, I never figured out. To make sure that I booked new accommodation, apparently. By that time I still hadn't received an answer from the host. An AirBnB employee with an Indian accent and an American name offered to call him for me, to which I agreed. I don't like all these endless calls, because why then have convenient automatic apps. But if they do it for me, then sure.
In the end the booking was confirmed, I walked to the nearest stop, and went to pick up my gear. By the way, bus tickets in Edinburgh can be bought electronically through an app or on the bus, but only for cash and with no change given. Maybe there's another option, but I didn't bother. I installed a weirdish app and rode around. A single-trip ticket costs around 1.80, for a day something like 4, or 4.50. It depends on how many you take at once — cheaper in bulk. In the app, however, you can't spend less than 4 pounds per purchase. If you need just one ticket, you're out of luck. On express buses to the airport and Glasgow and on suburban buses you can also buy with a contactless card.
When will civilization finally reach everywhere, eh? In Riga too it's only for cash on the bus, good thing they at least give change.
I picked up the things without incident from the host's sister. She was very puzzled by the soot-black pu'er in my gaiwan when she was taking the gear, and was afraid to pour it out. Did she think I practice witchcraft rituals or something?
In the next part it will be about how I moved in with Giovanni, who turned out to be completely not who you expect after reading that name.