The first time I saw... The Glorious Edinburgh

Stumbling out of the notorious Megabus, having been wedged in my tiny seat for literally 10 hours has me questioning not only whether the pain really was worth it for a 12 quid London to Edinburgh trip, but also my sanity.
The bus station shabby, and my uncertainty about location choice which I experience with every new place I venture is admittedly growing with every second, as a few drunken hazards stumble their way past. Despite all this, I take a deep breath and decide to make like the wheels of my battered yet well-loved suitcase and just roll with it. A quality decision on my part… honestly, not really a decision but more of a necessity based on my need to nonchalantly but briskly widen the gap between me, and the creepy old men who were clearly never told by their mothers that it is rude to stare!
I take a cautious step outside and shazam!! I am suddenly overcome with the urge to don a kilt and dance to the distant but brilliant sound of the bagpipes. As my good friend Aladdin would say, a whole new world is waiting outside! Suffice to say that Edinburgh’s bus station is (thankfully) not a fair representation of the city as a whole. This city is literally George Clooney- pretty darn old but outrageously beautiful.
The success of the chosen locations of my adventures as a young adult seems to revolve around ‘vibing’ a place out. Good vibes equal a good time. And oh my, on arrival in Edinburgh, right in the midst of the fringiest festival I’ve ever seen, the good vibes are tangible.
As per usual, within 30 seconds I’m lost. Lost in the beauty of it all? You may ask. To which I would answer with a tentative yes, and go on to explain that I’m mainly physically lost due to my lack of map skills. From this though, my favourite impression of Edinburgh and Scotland is formed- I ask some official looking people on the street for directions to my hostel and they are truly the kindest, most helpful, not to mention hilarious locals I have ever met whilst travelling. I think I’m gonna like this place.
The journey from bus station to hostel seems to awaken in me an unexpected connection and familiarity with this buzzing city that I have never been to or even had an interest in ever before in my life. My Scottish heritage is taking over, I am at home- finally my pale skin and borderline ginger hair offers me not heckles and teasing but a sense of belonging.
Get me some haggis and a whole lot of tartan- this Edinburgh is a clan I want to be a part of!