Fishmarket close – not popular for walks – its steepness fascinates people into just peeking at the small street. Not many dare to walk down as if it’s restricted for ‘rebels’ only. If one feels unstable on the slope of this grey, brick-layered path, one can hold on the ramp by the wall, which stretches all the way down.
I’ve always wanted to abuse rikshaw guys into riding up, although Down would be much more fun. The ‘insane’ type of fun, when you’re enjoying the ride at the same time feeling (very) unsure if you’ll be able to stop before crashing into the crowd of people walking down Cowgate.
They might hear our adrenaline-infused screams and laughter and instinctively stop before we’ve crashed into the black wall opposite. All is grey on the way down – walls, ground, sky – Edinburgh is made of stone. Still, before we crash, a complete rainbow of colours of this word flashes in front of my eyes. It’s worth it. I’ve never felt so many thoughts bubbling in my mind at once. So many sounds, so many uncertainties -should I join in for a scream with my friends? Does rikshaw-guy know what’s gonna happen? Is this fun? Is this fear? I feel great, shouting laughter out loud at this point – is this my last laugh? Right in the last second – before we zoom into Cowgate, I think: ‘It’s gonna be fine.’ I guess the last thought of a person really shows if one’s an optimist.
In this bizarre, always grey and empty wee street there’s a plump, big-bellied, harmless and motionless creature – boogy man, if you like – who’s eyes show how he’s given up hope of even attempting to scare anyone anymore. Because there’s NO one to walk past him. Once a doggy was enjoying its morning walk, but the beast had fallen asleep, so appeared to be just a (very) random statue, as grey as walls and sky. So doggy left a smelly pile a few feet away from the beastie. For him it was a change of scenery. He had missed a chance to scare again.
I might have noticed the giant, stoned creature on the way down, but moment was too short to mention it.