Edinburgh — What Endures

If you stay with something long enough, you may not have a choice but to be shaped by it.

The train from London to Edinburgh moves through its paces at a speed just fast, and slow enough, for you to notice it. I had a little over three hours to allow my brain a chance to wander and I kept noticing little details outside of the window. The city eventually gave way to the open country, where flocks of Blackface sheep meandered across rolling hills. Further still, the coastline appeared along the eastern horizon as stone monuments and remnants of castles once fortified began to appear from the fog — as they have for hundreds of years. A couple of hours later, anticipation mounted as the train slowed to a crawl.

I’ll remember those first few steps. The cool air bristling across my face as I looked up and around at gray and golden hued slate and stone. The kind where salted rain sharpens edges as the years add up. Our boots and luggage wheels were the dominant sounds of the morning — non-sequential thuds and clicks they were — hopscotching over rough stone walkways. Perfect as they are, I thought.

The mountain of hills unapologetically welcome those who carry more weight than is truly necessary. In the distance Edinburgh Castle, perched high above Old Town, appeared as we cascaded and funneled through winding alleys. Before turning the corner, I could feel the presence of Arthur’s Seat behind me. Watching. I began to feel the weight of the city and what it could mean, but it was cloudy. We dropped our bags and began the long journey to our first coffee. Up the hill we climbed, carrying the safety we hadn’t set down yet.

Cairngorm Coffee Roasters | @cairngormcoffeeco | https://cairngorm.coffee/en-us

We designed this portion of the trip to allow ourselves to be fully engrossed in the city. Bouncing between one spot to another can work for some, but when the opportunity arises to plant yourself in a city, I think you really start to hear what it’s trying to tell you.

My pre-visit coffee planning had Cairngorm at the top of the list. If you spend any time on social media with travel and coffee in your feed, I’m sure Cairngorm has appeared once or twice. The iconic design opens in a semi circle to the street allowing the morning sun to hit the reddish brown granite walls of its exterior. I was invested in visiting this location because of what I had seen about Cairngorms National Park, what I had read about their coffees, and the fact that ‘cairngorm’ is the name of brown adorned by my Range Rover Classic. How English.

Although rather busy, the patrons didn’t appear to be in a rush. How un-American. Charming I thought as I walked through the entrance greeted by a clean and bright interior made even brighter by the morning sun hitting the back of my neck. Something simple to start the day is always a good move so it would be a round of flat whites for the table. It’s a good staple drink to test how the espresso is anchored by their milk choice and the thin surface of foam on top creates a satisfying and cozy mouthfeel — much appreciated on a sunny day below 40 degrees.

A place like Cairngorm is situated within the age of the city. Its stone walls now chipped and cracked over time reminded me of how being exposed to the elements mold and define the character of a place. As people quietly came and left while others made Cairngorm their morning home, I began to notice how relaxed they were. Another sip from my flat white, and I walked in for another.

Walking and hiking through Edinburgh one can’t help but feel a certain way. The city is divided into neighborhoods of course and hiking through Old Town provided such a sense of scale.

It feels as if everything is situated so that Edinburgh Castle looks down on you. A weight from above no doubt and a reminder of how life here may have been. To the east runs the Royal Mile and while adorned with various shops and tourist traps, the bones of older times remain. Small alleyways, or closes, provide small outlets to the north and south of the main spine running east and west. All roads lead back to the castle it seems. All roads lead to somewhere.

Moving through and around Old Town, patterns begin to emerge. Blessed with morning sun, little pockets of novelty appear — like a pub where prisoners would have their last drink before being publicly executed in a public square is now littered with tourists and locals walking their dogs. A testament to how it is that with enough time, things may change, but the bones stay the same.

You see, even the touristy locations in Edinburgh feel old. Not that they are outdated in the lame sense of the word, but actually old. There is history here. Everywhere. And no matter how many times someone posts about the city, it doesn’t change the fact that it still has its skeletons.

We funneled down a close to the north side of Old Town to what would be my favorite coffee in the city. Lost at first in a scramble to find it, we eventually crossed the right street, ducked under the right overhang, and crossed the right bridge. The journey is worth the reward.

Room & Rumours Coffee | @roomrumourscoffee

Sometimes, when you walk into a café, you just know it’s going to be special. A small space. Inviting. The smell of freshly baked donuts and breads being delivered from next door. Coffees from roasters and countries I had been to or heard about. A selection from someone who respects the craft. This should be good I thought.

We were greeted warmly and with time. It’s the most valuable asset we have and to spend it with the intent of making someone feel welcome is admirable and elevates virtually any type of experience. We were offered two choices of beans, and I can confidently say I was so happy to have selected a coffee from Paris. The flat whites were made with extreme care and attention. There was no overblown story about the beans origin, no one bragging that they had competed in multiple barista competitions (although it was clear that they had competed), no ‘look-at-me’ type noise. Just coffee, time and presence. In those moments of silence, our brains can regain the ability to notice.

The donuts we had were divine. Filled with lemon in one and chocolate in another, these cruffin style pastries complemented the coffees beautifully. If you’re reading this, you’re at least somewhat into coffee and likely know that a coffee plant produces a fruit and it is the seed within the fruit that is roasted. Depending on the way the coffee is processed, a coffee producer can impart a myriad of flavors into the bean before it is roasted. It is then up to the roaster on how they want to express what lay dormant. Nature and Nurture. The roaster of this bean must have enjoyed Cap’n Crunch Berries because that’s exactly what it tasted like. Now if you’re into darker coffees that's great, but sometimes, an experience like this can really impart the required curiosity to move your tastes, your skills, or in extreme cases, your life in another direction.

For me, I thought if a roaster could express a coffee in a drink like this, I have a lot of work to do. Sipping on that coffee, I was left alone to come to my own conclusions. The bones of who we are and what we do may endure, but over time, character and complexity build as we layer the experience of our choices.

Humans are creatures of habit and we are really good at developing and falling into patterns. Only when my brain has been allowed to be bored do I start to understand my own patterns, and how they have shaped my life.

There’s comfort in the familiar. The same streets. The same cafés. The same decisions, justified as practicality. I’ve learned that I don’t usually leave those patterns on my own — I’m removed from them. And every time that happens, there’s a strange sense of relief.

Coffee has always been there on the other side of that relief. Easy to return to. Easy to justify. A place to make small, honest progress when everything else feels unstable. Usually, relief as coffee is easy. I find a café or find that I have enough time at home to dial in a new coffee.

Edinburgh didn’t provide that ease. Although gleaming with cafés, the good ones are scattered under the bridges and over the hills. Hidden and miles apart from one another. In some ways, Edinburgh became a quest designed to test my resolve. Just because you know what you are aligned with doesn’t mean following the path will be easy.

Wellington Coffee

About four to five days into Edinburgh, you really start to embrace the pace of the city. Because you end up walking everywhere, you start to learn the turns, the streets and the energy. You get a feel for what is for show, and what is here to last. The grounded and understated ones end up being the ‘hidden gems’ of a city. An award for taking the quiet route and letting what you stand for do the talking.

I find it humorous and rather fitting mind you that Wellington does not have either an Instagram page nor an official webpage. As well, their business isn’t even on the same level of the other businesses on the street. It’s below street level and if you have your eyes in the sky or at your feet, you’ll never come to understand what’s right in front of you. A few steps down and one enters one of the most fragrant coffee shops I have ever been to. One can thank the daily baked scones with clotted cream and jam.

If you haven’t had a scone in the UK with clotted cream and jam, then put it on your list this year. While the coffee is of course good — or it wouldn’t be on my list — it’s the combination of coffee and baked goods that really seals the deal here. But, I can’t help but think about how they don’t appear on my social feed. And when I truly think about it, I think this is why it works. The best marketing a business can do, in my opinion, is the emphatic ‘you have to go here!’ from someone you trust. Weaving yourself into your community, your people, your tribe is how you develop a loyal following. And this is done in the back room. Flour and sugar and messes. Hands on dough. Endless dishes. Dirty steam wands. Rinse and repeat every single day. It isn’t the glamour that sold me on this place.

It was hard work. Without heroics.

We spent the next couple of days venturing into neighborhoods we had yet to explore, and retracing some of our favorite steps from the days prior. With every mile came further adoration and respect for a city still standing. Although many tourists now visit every year, Edinburgh remains honest.

It’s not an easy feat to remain as you are when the world has adorned you with popularity and clout. Instead, it’s easy to start saying yes to everything when the world starts to take interest. What I respect about this city, and perhaps a select few of these businesses, is that they appear to remain in their lane. They don’t overcomplicate their menus or try to do too much. Some do, and you can feel it when you visit. But the ones that really shine? Those are the ones who remain resolute.

There was a moment on the northwest side of the city where we found ourselves on the Water of Leith walkway. It was adorned with greenery and the river gently ran beside us. A lovely morning, as they had all been during that trip. The sun would occasionally break through the trees and the pace of our walk was slower. We weren’t rushing to get to a coffee shop as it opened. We had nowhere to be other than right where we were. There wasn’t anything to get to, or any hidden gem to uncover. Just the walk.

It’s during these little moments when ego shrinks a little. The blinders come off and perspective tends to widen as you start noticing what has lasted, and what has gone by the wayside. You can see it firsthand in the city. The businesses, people and architecture that succeed don’t outgrow the work or chase trends. They solve one problem first. And then another. Demanding? Certainly, but isn’t that the currency of entrepreneurship?

LOWDOWN | @lowdown.coffee

The final cup always closes the loop the same way a good story, lecture or movie does. But a great one? Sometimes, they’re the lessons that aren’t even spoken.

Have you even been to a coffee shop or café and you can just sense that the owner is there? Running the show with confidence and grace. Taking their time to welcome each customer. Provide stellar service. That’s what happened when we took a seat at the corner table in LOWDOWN. The coffees and brunch were exceptional and no doubt the result of repetition. Over years. When we noticed the Slayer espresso machine (since Slayer originated in Seattle) we made a comment to which he discussed how it has pulled around a million — you read that right — a million shots and is still going strong. How refreshing of a symbol for this corner café I thought, and for a city that refuses to become anything other than what it is.

It was the only place where we purchased coffee in Edinburgh, which I thought was surprising. The truly special places and coffees stand out without crying for attention. The owner refuses to dial back the quality of their service. The machine refuses to give up. Both signs of something worth staying for.

Now a few months removed from the city, I can still remember those final few steps.

Our boots and luggage wheels once again were the dominant sounds of the morning — non-sequential thuds and clicks they were — hopscotching over rough stone walkways. Changed only by time and circumstance. Enduring bones.

Lasting. Perfect as they are, I thought.