Thursday 20th November 2025, 09.35

Ah, the goodest of mornings to you! I know that goodest isn’t really a word, but I’m in a cheerful mood, so you can have it anyway. 

I write to you from the Costa Pronto at Derby Train Station – I wasn’t aware that Costa Pronto is a thing, so I have learnt something new today already. I’m on my way to Edinburgh for the 2025 UNISON LGBT+ Conference, and I’m very excited. Well, I’m excited about Edinburgh at least – a conference full of gays is something I could take or leave in all honesty. I’m attending in my capacity as LGBT+ Officer for the South Derbyshire (L.Gov) UNISON Branch, which is a position I treat with the utmost respect and seriousness – LGBT+ rights at South Derbyshire District Council have been a passion of mine since the day I was born. 

I would like to immediately dispel the rumours that I am attending because I have never been to Edinburgh before and this conference provides an all-expenses paid opportunity to explore the city. I would never in my wildest dreams dare to hold such an openly cynical view of the world. I can assure you, from the bottom of my heart, that I am extremely passionate about all 48 pages of motions that are being voted on at this conference – even Motion 21, titled ‘Defend the European Court of Human Rights’. 

Ok, now I’ve said all of that, allow me a few real comments. Firstly, what are you possibly hoping to achieve with reams of agendas and motions that no normal person will ever read, never mind understand or care about? Secondly, assuming these motions are successful, what impact do you think they will actually have? Do you think that average members of the public, or even strange people like union bosses or Labour Party politicians, pay any attention at all to the outcome of the 2025 UNISON LGBT+ Conference? I didn’t even know it existed until 6 months ago, and I am obsessed with politics and current affairs. Finally, considering all of that, I can assure you the outcome of this conference will have absolutely no bearing on my thoughts towards the European Court of Human Rights (which we should leave, by the way, but that is another story), and who do you actually expect to influence with this motion, other than your fellow LGBT+ union comrades, who already believe exactly the same things as you anyway? 

Apologies, I managed to wind myself up a bit there, and now I need to leave for my train. I will come back to you shortly. H x

Thursday 20th November 2025, 10.05

Darling, I am so sorry for ranting at you like that, I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me, and allow me to assure you with my whole heart that I take the issue of LGBT+ rights in Local Government completely seriously. In all fairness, I probably should take it more seriously with Nigel Farage on the charge – he recently made some pretty grim comments about gay parents being worse than straight ones. Maybe I should actually pay attention at this conference. 

Anyway, to more important matters. I am now on the train, which is scheduled to take 4hrs 21mins, so that’s fun. I’m not too worried, as I have plenty to do to occupy myself, such as writing this, planning an itinerary for exploring Edinburgh in the miniscule amount of free time I will have when I’m not working extremely hard to protect the gays, reading (I’m currently enjoying a fantastically hilarious novel called Dear Committee Members by Julie Schumacher), listening to music or a podcast (I’ve already enjoyed an interesting podcast on my dog walk this morning that discussed the philosophy behind The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera, which, by the way, I urge you to read if you haven’t already), or just staring out of the window at the wonderful greenness of the British countryside. 

I must admit that I don’t actually have much knowledge of Edinburgh. In fact, I would go as far as to say I have almost no knowledge of Edinburgh, other than what other people have told me when I’ve mentioned that I am going, which has consistently been something along the lines of “oh it’s fantastic, you’ll absolutely love it”, which isn’t hugely helpful but is at least quite reassuring. I gather that there is the Royal Mile, quite a large hill of some sort (apparently it’s called Arthur’s Seat, which clearly isn’t a seat, but whatever), and a castle, but beyond that I am pretty clueless. I might ask my personal assistant, who job shares between myself and Boris Johnson (watch this video if you’d like to understand that joke), to put me an itinerary together that works around the almost non-existent amount of free time I’m going to have between working my arse off to protect the gays. 

Now, I was originally planning to bring my boyfriend with me on this trip, but in an unfortunate turn of events, we broke up at the weekend, so that obviously hasn’t happened. I am a bit sad, but I bear no grudges, and it was definitely for the best. The relationship taught me a lot and I am very grateful that it happened, and although it didn’t end on the best of terms, I made sure to wish him nothing but the best for the future. Besides, I have become well accustomed to spending time by myself, as I’m usually far more interesting that most other people I meet, and he would only have distracted me from my vital work of single-handedly defending every single lesbian that exists in the entire United Kingdom. 

Right, I’m boring myself now. I might text Sam Morris something annoying to see how he reacts. I like to think I keep his blood pressure a solid 10-20 points higher than it should be. H x

Thursday 20th November 2025, 17.55

Oh my sweet cherub, I had such a wonderful train journey (genuinely, I’m not taking the piss). I finished Dear Committee Members, which gets a 5 star review from me and a recommendation that you should read it. I read through all of the papers (there were quite a lot of them) for the Derbyshire Mind board meeting next week, and I will endeavour to put some time aside this weekend to organise my thoughts on them and put myself a board pack together. I, with the help of my assistant, put together a rough itinerary of what I will have time to do in Edinburgh, and thankfully it looks like I will have enough time to do quite a lot. I also listened to some music and, when I got bored of that, spent quite a hefty chunk of time just staring out of the window in silence (it was surprisingly relaxing and I suggest you try it sometime, although it helps if you have soundproof headphones). 

As the train began to pull into Edinburgh, I was enchanted almost instantly. I had heard about the beauty of the architecture but I was still slightly overwhelmed by it. I was feeling quite tired towards the end of my train journey, but stepping out of Edinburgh Waverley into such stunning surroundings was enough to restore my energy instantly, and instead of heading straight to the apartment as planned, I took a detour to the National Gallery. I am pretty crap at putting into words the magical effect that art usually has on me, but it has an ability to calm me, to put my mind at ease, and to make me focus entirely on the moment I’m in without looking forward to the future or backwards to the past – I am just there, looking at artworks that are hundreds of years old and so special that they still hang proudly in the national gallery of Scotland. If you ask nicely, I will even show you some pictures that I took of my favourite pieces (don’t worry, I know you won’t ask). After almost two hours of looking around, I purchased a few postcards of my favourite pieces and a copy of A Little History of Philosophy by Nigel Warburton from the gift shop, and set off for my accommodation. 

I strolled leisurely through Edinburgh towards the West End, where my apartment is located, stopping occasionally to photograph a particularly beautiful building/scene. I took three photographs of the Waterstones on Princes Street, such was the awe it inspired in me – I shall definitely be returning to it at some point during my stay. There is a Christmas market in East Princes Street Gardens too, which is a bit early for my liking, but it looked fun and lively, so I might also have a cheeky wander around that at some point. I honestly don’t think I stopped smiling for the entire walk, such is the overwhelming sense of love I immediately have for this city. 

Upon arrival at the apartment, I dumped my bags down and immediately opened Deliveroo to order a Nando’s (forgive my piggishness, but all I’d eaten up to that point was half a croissant from Costa earlier this morning). Usually, when I’m by myself, I’m generally pretty good at venturing out and eating alone, but as I had planned to be here with my (now ex) boyfriend, it felt a bit too sad to be out by myself. The Nando’s, predictably, was shit, but I also ordered some Dairy Milk and Fanta Zero from Sainsbury’s, which has more than made up for it. Now, I sit writing this and listening to Classic FM, pondering what to do with the rest of my evening. I think I might watch the latest episode of Richard Osman’s House of Games on iPlayer (a simply impeccable show), and then maybe read my new Warburton book for a bit – that sounds like a reasonable evening to me. 

Kindest of Kind Regards. H x

Friday 21st November 2025, 09.00

Good morning my dearest. I write with a slight annoyance towards myself – I snoozed my alarm so many times this morning that I haven’t had time to go to the gym, which I vowed to myself that I would do whilst in Edinburgh to keep up my new health routine. In my defence, I was up several times during the night as I didn’t feel very well, so I felt a bit fatigued when my iPhone piped up at 7am. I’ve also just been quite sick whilst I was brushing my teeth, so it really hasn’t been an ideal start to the morning. Oh well, onwards we go. 

I did exactly as promised last night – I watched the latest episode of House of Games, I read some of my new Warburton book, and I also video called my Mother and Lord Fozzington. Do you ever wonder what dogs think is happening when they hear their owner’s voice through the telephone, or see them on the screen? As soon as he hears my voice, Forest tilts his head to the right at an almost 90-degree angle, stares at the screen for a few seconds, and then tries to lick it. If only my ex-boyfriend had done something similar whenever I phoned him, we might still be together. 

Apologies, that joke was beneath both me and my ex-boyfriend. Well, me at least. 

On to my itinerary for today – I’ve purchased a ticket to visit Edinburgh Castle at 10am, which I’m very excited about. I have read absolutely nothing about it, so I have no idea what to expect, but I gather that there are excellent views and a museum, so I’m sure I am in for a treat. After that, if I have enough time, there’s a second-hand bookshop not far from the castle called Armchair Books (what a fantastic name) that I’d like to visit, although I’m a bit scared I’ll get carried away and have to buy another suitcase. I’ll probably grab a quick bite of lunch around this point, before popping back to the apartment to freshen up and grab a few bits before heading to the conference. Can you believe, despite it being 2025, that they printed and mailed the conference agenda and the annual report out to all attendees? Have they not heard of electronic mail? Bizarre, and very ironic (and very funny) considering one of the motions we’re voting on is increasing awareness of environmental sustainability. The conference centre is only a ten minute walk from my apartment, which isn’t too bad. According to the agenda, I should be done by around 6.30, by which point I’ll probably be ready to retire and repeat my own agenda from last night. God I fucking love Richard Osman. 

This is going to be quite a long bloody blog isn’t it? I can only apologise. Catch you later. H x

Friday 21st November 2025, 13.10 

Armchair Books was everything I could possibly dream of in a bookshop. Antiquated charm, with giant shelves stacked floor to ceiling, crammed into a shop far too small to reasonably host so many books, it was almost perfect. That is until I spoke to the proprietor – it went something like this: 

As I walked away from the desk, I had a sudden urge to kick him in his disgusting piggy face. Why would I ask for a bin if I was planning to leave it on your shelves anyway? What possible need was there to be that bloody rude, especially to a potential customer? It really irked me, although I still bought two books, which made me feel like a bit of a mug. Oh well, I shall leave them a one-star review on Google to balance it out a bit. On the whole, I would recommend dropping by if you’re ever in the area, just try and avoid the ogre sitting behind the till. 

Edinburgh Castle was simply mesmerising, with views from the top spanning as far as the eye could see. I feel like if you had never been to the UK before and you read about the history of the British Empire, and were then asked to produce a sketch of what a British city would look like, you would inevitably draw an almost exact replica of Edinburgh. There are several museums located within the walls of the castle, all of which were very interesting and a stark reminder of the key role Scotland played in the empire, even if the modern Scottish nationalists would rather gloss over this part of their history (cough, Nicola Sturgeon, cough). I even got to see the Scottish crown jewels, which were impressive, albeit a poor imitation of the British crown jewels. I can’t really think of a more appropriate way to explain it other than saying I was like a pig in shit. 

If you’re interested, by the way, the books I purchased were Religion for Atheists by Alain de Botton (who is fast becoming my favourite modern philosopher) and A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood (it seemed apt considering my current circumstances). I’ve previously read Goodbye to Berlin by Isherwood, on the recommendation of my dear old friend Dany Bowen (I do miss Daniel sometimes – I wonder what he is up to nowadays), and I thoroughly enjoyed it, so I’m sure I will enjoy this one too. 

Anyway, I popped to Sainsbury’s after all of that for some tea bags before returning to the apartment to mentally prepare myself for the work of saving the LGBT+ community this afternoon. Before that, I am going to email Dany and ask how he is doing. Speak soon. H x

Friday 21st November 2025, 18.40

A very good evening to you my learned and trusted friend. I went to the first day of the Homosexual Conference and I am here to report back. For the avoidance of doubt, I am actively trying to remain diplomatic. 

The calibre of attendees is somewhat suboptimal, and their chosen attire tends to lean towards what might be called leisurewear, which some might argue is inappropriate for such an event, although I obviously have no opinion on the matter. There are some 37 motions to be voted on over the next two days, many of which seem to be questionably worded and lacking a clear objective, although I’m sure their authors have nothing but the best intentions and harbour no bad feeling towards any particular political groups. According to the introductory meeting I attended earlier today, the organisers will be taking a register of attendees to assure that all delegates are accounted for, apparently in the interests of safety and accountability, which I think is a fantastic idea, as it has the added benefit of ensuring that nobody is able to shirk their responsibilities and sneak off to explore Edinburgh, which I personally would never even dream of doing. 

The Local Government service group meeting I attended was rich and productive, with a dynamic speech given by a national officer who absolutely wasn’t simply reading from the report he had been given, but unfortunately I had to leave early due to an unforeseen emergency, the details of which I am unable to reveal. This had the unfortunate knock-on effect of removing my availability for the East Midlands regional group meeting I was scheduled to attend afterwards, which was a great shame but completely unavoidable. On the whole, I am very much looking forward to spending the entire day tomorrow voting on motions that are definitely going to have a huge impact on the advancement of LGBT+ rights across the United Kingdom, and although some I have heard that some have accused it of being so, this conference is absolutely not just an excuse for lots of annoying LGBT+ public sector workers to congregate in Edinburgh at the expense of others, and anyone who suggests that the bar crawl that is arranged for tonight (which I unfortunately can’t attend due to my previously described emergency) is proof that it is nothing more than a union-funded junket should be laughed at and ignored. 

I’ve had a Chinese for tea, which was bang average, and now face having to choose between watching the darts, reading (which then involves a further choice between books – life is so relentlessly fatiguing), or doing some further work on my planned self-improvement objectives following my recent breakup. According to much of the philosophy I have been reading over the past few years, the trick is to design your lifestyle around processes you actually enjoy, as opposed to putting processes in place in an attempt to reach an end goal that you think will make you happy. For example, I should want to go to the gym because working out makes me feel good about myself, improves my physical and mental health, and creates routine and structure that makes me feel less lazy and lethargic. I shouldn’t want to go to the gym because I want to be thin – I have been thin before, and I still wanted to fucking kill myself anyway. 

I think I might stick to the darts for now. Good night. H x

Saturday 22nd November 2025, 16.05

Oh my sweet angelic darling, how are you? I have just now returned to the apartment after day two of conference. I’ve made myself a cup of tea and turned on Classic FM just in time to hear Alan Titchmarsh cue up Dvořák’s Serenade for Strings. Sometimes, life works out perfectly – it is one of my favourite pieces of classical music. 

My highlight of today was the lunch break in between session one and two of conference (make of that what you will). I found a gorgeous little spot called The Honeycomb Tearoom just down the road from the conference centre, where I perched myself on a small table in the corner, ordered scrambled eggs on toast and a black coffee, and settled down to read some more of my Warburton book. I simply adore authentic eateries like this, where the service takes forever and the seating arrangements are far too cramped, but the food is homemade and delicious, and the atmosphere is wholesome. Also soaking up everything the tearoom had to offer was a young woman on her own who was writing furiously in her notepad, and four Northern Irish women whose conversations were completely indecipherable other than the inordinate amount of swear words they managed to slip in. It was a very pleasant way to spend an hour or so, and I wish I could find somewhere like that in my own locality – the Hilton Brook doesn’t quite have the same (any) appeal. 

My first full day of conference was as invigorating as I expected it to be. The whole thing ran smoothly, and the motions put forward were well-researched and well-written. Debates were thoughtful and intelligent, and the wide array of speakers delivered their arguments with eloquence and passion, clearly on top of their respective briefs. I have come away feeling energised and confident that the future of the LGBT+ community is in safe hands. 

I promise I’m not being sarcastic. There was even a motion, and I am honestly not making this up, that urged the National LGBT+ Committee to increase their engagement with the Communist Party of Great Britain and the Morning Star newspaper, although this was ruled out of order as it could place the union in “legal jeopardy”, which was a crying shame, as I would honestly have loved to hear from whichever fucking lunatic thought that was genuinely a good idea. I would also just add, on an entirely separate note, that at one point someone walked past me with no shoes or socks on. I recount this memory to you with no agenda or judgement. 

I’m beginning to get bored of taking the piss out of it all now, and I think you get the picture anyway, so I shall desist. Luckily, there is only the morning session tomorrow to go until it is all over, which is quite handy as I spent most of today planning my itinerary for tomorrow afternoon and Monday morning. 

I’m not feeling very inspired to write right now, so I might come back to you later. Lots of love. H x

Saturday 22nd November 2025, 22.15

Shortly after I wrote to you earlier, I was lying on the sofa thinking about roughly seven different things at once; why my job is so boring, why my relationship failed, which book I should read once I’ve finished the one I’m reading right now, and so on. Quite often in my case, overanalysis leads to paralysis, and I find myself trapped in a vicious circle of pointless thoughts that does nothing except ruin my mood. So, I got up, stripped off (now now), put on my activewear and headed to the gym. Now, you might have gathered that I love philosophy, and I spend a significant amount of time considering how, if it is at all possible, we could achieve eudaimonia in the true Aristotelian sense of the word – well, rest assured that sometimes it is as simple as getting up off the sofa and doing some exercise. We are simple creatures really – plus, it didn’t hurt that the PureGym I visited was absolutely brimming with prime totty. 

I have spent much of the rest of the evening alternating between reading and watching the darts (get yourself a man who can do both). I’ve been feeling a bit sick and fatigued, and therefore inevitably feeling quite sorry for myself too, so I’ve decided it is best if I miss the final session of conference tomorrow morning in order to rest and recuperate. It was not an easy decision to make, but I feel it is the right one for me at this time. In unrelated news, I’ve also booked tickets to visit the Drawing the Italian Renaissance exhibition at the King’s Gallery tomorrow morning, as well as the Palace of Holyroodhouse itself, and I might even pop to the National Portrait Gallery too whilst I’m in that neck of the woods. I mean, we all have our own ways of resting and recuperating, don’t we? That will probably take most of the day, although there are a few bookshops in that area that I’d like to visit too if I have time. 

Sometimes, you have to make the most of the opportunity you have in front of you, or something like that anyway. Good night. H x

Sunday 23rd November 2025, 14.40

A very good afternoon to you. It is a cold and wet day in Edinburgh, but it is not a miserable one, as I’ve been out exploring again this morning. After I popped to a nearby shop to purchase an umbrella, there was no stopping me. 

I started at the King’s Gallery. It was a small but fascinating exhibition, featuring original drawings from renaissance giants such as Michelangelo and Raphael, most of which were apparently added to the royal collection by Charles II (of Horrible Histories fame). In a way it was actually quite daunting spending time looking at pieces that were created by men with more talent than you could ever possibly dream of having – it certainly put my blog writing skills into perspective. 

The Palace of Holyroodhouse was magnificent, as you would expect for the Scottish residence of the monarch, although I’d struggle to rank it any higher than most of the country houses I’ve visited if I am being completely honest. I can’t quite explain (or justify) it to you, but I just felt it was missing something special. It didn’t help when one of the attendants told me I wasn’t allowed to take photos of the artwork – what kind of a fucking rule is that? I spent much of the rest of my time exploring the palace thinking about how much I hated that man. I hope he is having a truly awful day. 

The highlight of this early part of my morning was the cup of tea I had in the cafe in the Palace grounds. I read a few chapters of my book and indulged in a spot of people watching whilst enjoying a pot of English Breakfast. I like watching people in the rain – I find it amusing trying to discern the character of those who shuffle or jog a little to try and get out of the rain quicker, versus those who walk at their normal pace, completely unconcerned with their impending dampness. There’s something reassuringly British about watching people quietly battle the elements like that. 

After that I headed to Topping & Company Booksellers, which was an almost spiritual experience. It had a similar yet completely different appeal to Armchair Books – the books were stacked floor to ceiling, as they were at Armchair Books, but they were fresh and brand new, which is a different kind of exciting to the tattered charm of second-hand copies. There were tables & stools dotted around the store by the windows, which looked out onto the beauty that is apparently mandatory across every street in Edinburgh. At one point I saw a woman sit down with a stack of about ten books as a member of staff offered her a cup of coffee – I thought to myself, that’s bloody good service isn’t it? It wasn’t until I did some googling later on that I realised this was part of what they call ‘Coffee with a Bookseller’, which basically does what it says on the tin – you have coffee with a bookseller and they recommend you new books to read based on what you tell them about what you’ve read previously and what you’re looking to read in the future. According to their website, you can even buy vouchers for others to enjoy this experience – if you’re reading, Hayley, then hint hint. In the end I didn’t purchase anything, but I am almost certain I shall return there at some point in the future. 

This was followed by a trip to the National Portrait Gallery, which was, perhaps unsurprisingly, populated entirely with portraits. There was an interesting exhibit on the history behind the close links the Scottish aristocracy had with Italian artists during the renaissance period (which made a nice loop back to the exhibition I saw at the King’s Gallery earlier), and as you’d expect from aristocracy, the pictures were grand and beautiful. There was also a cool exhibit on more modern portraiture, but this doesn’t quite excite me as much – as far as I am concerned, any art created after the death of Oscar Wilde is pointless. There was a library room too, in which there was a live drawing class taking place – by this I mean a man was literally sitting there, being completely still, whilst about half a dozen elderly people tried to draw him. Something about this warmed my heart, and I smiled to myself as I wandered past them, their brows furrowed in concentration. 

At this point I decided I’d had enough, and began a leisurely stroll back to the apartment, which is where you find me now, and where I shall probably remain for the rest of the day. Although you may have (not entirely incorrectly) assumed I was being facetious when I announced that I was feeling quite fatigued in a previous blog entry, I am genuinely feeling quite tired, and I appear to have developed a runny nose, which I am blaming squarely on the less than adequate weather. 

On an unrelated note, I saw a lot of young, mainly heterosexual couples whilst I was out and about earlier today. You might expect that I’d feel rather bitter about this considering the abrupt end of my own relationship recently, but it actually made me feel rather good. I think it’s nice to see people enjoying the company of those they love, and I remain hopeful that I will once again do the same with someone else when the time is right. It might not have worked out with my ex, but we had some good times together, and he taught me a lot about myself and what it takes to build a successful relationship, which I’m sure will be invaluable in the future. I have, inevitably, been thinking about him a lot this weekend, and although I’m confident it was the right decision for us to part ways, I still miss having someone to talk to and someone to be by my side, in that unique position that family and friends just cannot fulfil. Nonetheless, I continue to try and live life to the fullest and expand my horizons, in the hope that I will one day find someone to match my energy and interests. For what is it all for, if it isn’t for love? 

I might have a nap. H x

Monday 24th November 2025, 12.10

I find myself sitting outside of Caffe Nero at Edinburgh Waverley Train Station, eating a Ham & Cheese panini and listening to 365 by Charli XCX. I genuinely admire Charli XCX – I think it’s beyond impressive to release an album that is almost entirely about having sex and doing cocaine, and not only have huge commercial success, but also win three Grammys. I suppose it depends on your outlook on life as to how that reflects on society as a whole, but personally, I think it’s fucking fantastic, and aligns quite closely with my own personal mantra – beers, bets, bags, bumholes. 

I spent yesterday afternoon/evening once again alternating between reading and watching the darts. Some people might argue that my autistic tendencies mean I try to create some semblance of routine for myself wherever I go, but some people can also fuck off – I just love Luke Littler/Tom Brooks (think about it – have you ever seen them in a room together?). I finished my Warburton book, which got a 5* rating from me as I thoroughly enjoyed it. I quite like how it’s accessible to all levels, whether you’re completely new to philosophy or a seasoned expert like myself – I would highly recommend it to you. 

God I love Sabrina Carpenter. 

I was going to take a wander around Dean Village this morning, a picturesque area that was just 15 minutes from where I’ve been staying, but when I opened the curtains this morning it was pissing it down, so I quickly binned that off. Instead, I tidied up the apartment and checked out, heading off to Edinburgh Waverley to drop my bags off before wandering down the Royal Mile towards the Scottish Parliament. I briefly strolled past the HQ of Rockstar North, the company that makes Grand Theft Auto, so that was very cool – in retrospect, I should have gone in and told them to stop fannying about with GTA 6. 

Now, it is perhaps quite harsh to compare the Scottish Parliament to the Houses of Parliament in London, considering the latter has centuries more history and is arguably one of the most beautiful and iconic buildings in the world, but I’m going to anyway – if you compare the Scottish Parliament to the Houses of Parliament in London, it is shit. In fairness, I’m not a fan of most modern architecture anyway, so it was highly unlikely I was ever going to fall in love with the place, but it was interesting to have a wander around nonetheless. Sitting in the public gallery that overlooks the parliament chamber, you could feel the sense of history that embodies the place, knowing that great orators such as… erm… Nicola Sturgeon? Ok, scrap that, you can feel the sense of history knowing that some laws get passed here sometimes and people often argue about them a bit. Oh come on, it’s never going to give you the same feeling as observing the dispatch box where William Gladstone and Winston Churchill once stood, is it? Regardless, I enjoyed it and found it interesting, even if the “exhibition” on the history of the building was heavily skewed towards the SNP’s favourite talking points on Scottish independence – do they ever have a day off? 

Apologies to Nicola Sturgeon for slagging her off twice in one blog post. Perhaps, if she were less of a twat, I would have kept it to just the once. 

After that I wandered back up the Royal Mile, stopping in a few gift shops to get a few bits (I have to get a pack of playing cards wherever I go), and I even popped into the Royal Mile Gallery, where I purchased a lovely print of the ruins of the abbey next to the Palace of Holyroodhouse. In the print, there are two people standing in the ruins of the abbey looking remarkably tiny compared to the grand mediaeval ruins, and I thought that provided a nice metaphor for how insignificant we really are. I then took a detour to Blackwell’s Bookshop, which is apparently the oldest bookshop in the city (very cool). As usual, I could have spent hours in there, but half an hour had to suffice – I think what I’ve realised this weekend (or perhaps what I knew already but this weekend has reaffirmed it) is that I feel most at home surrounded by books. I picked up a copy of Humanly Possible by Sarah Bakewell, which I will thoroughly enjoy getting stuck into on the train journey home – I have read both of her previous books on philosophy and absolutely adored them, so I am confident this one will be just as wonderful. 

Right, my fingers are going cold, so I’m going to pop into M&S to see if anything tickles my fancy for the train journey home. I will catch up with you later. H x

Monday 24th November 2025, 13.05

I’m on the train now and, after some faffing about and changing coaches (god I fucking hate public transport), I am in the right seat. I’m a bit upset as I was previously sitting next to a proper naughty bit of kit, but the demands of the mighty public transport bureaucracy cannot be ignored. By the way, have you seen the news that the Government is planning to freeze rail fares for the next twelve months (they should have been going up by 4.6%)? Have you also seen the news that Rachel from Accounts is considering increasing fuel duty? I’m sorry Mrs Reeves, but if I want to drive a big car rather than spend my time on the peasant wagon then I fucking will, and you can shove your tax rises up your arse. As far as I’m concerned, I’d rather watch the glaciers melt and the entirety of Southern England be subsumed into the English Channel before I willingly start getting the train everywhere. I honestly think I’d rather have Boris back at this point – at least he made you laugh whilst he was fucking the country up. I don’t think Kier Starmer has made anyone laugh since 1983. 

Anyway, on the whole, this weekend has been absolutely perfect, and it is safe to say that I have fallen in love with Edinburgh. I think it might be my new favourite British city, although that will require further consideration over the coming days (Manchester holds a very special place in my heart). It just has so many beautiful buildings, they are literally endless, everywhere you look it just feels so special and, more importantly, so British. I’ve been able to unashamedly indulge in my favourite things (art, books, culture, history, politics), and I’ve also single-handedly saved every single homosexual in the country from certain death. I would say that’s not bad going for your local big fat gay. 

Oh my god, Wham Rap! just came on shuffle. I love George Michael so much. Also, is there anything more beautiful than the British countryside? 

Ok, I’m done now. I hope you enjoyed this blog, and apologies that it was so long – if you think this is bad, imagine what it’s like living in my actual brain. Speak soon. H x

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