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We stepped out of the station, across the road and into the hostel - how's that for central Edinburgh? Then strangely it took around an hour to get checked in. Was this a time warp or did Luke the Aussie just take forever? Soon we were settled into our sumptious rooms and couldn't believe our luck at falling on our feet with such luxury. The free cowboy shots soon had everone revived from the journey and it was then time! Time to go forth into the city..
By this time poor Mark was obviously feeling a little confused after the long train journey - or was it perhaps excitement after having travelled through Geordy-land on the way up? Whatever the reason his poor little legs were trying to do a river dance of their own with two steps sideways for every one forward. (Is that a dosey-do?)
And Santa found his grotto - it was mostly boarded up though - must have been out of season!
It was now we found the big Weatherspoons which was already pretty busy with Six Nations weekend tourists. Feeling starving by this time we piled in and ordered food whilst others went exploring the pub to make a few friends.
It was at this point that Puma (or Gump for the weekend) found the pig farmers. How she found them God only knows, perhaps there was a slight smell of bacon which attracted her or perhaps it was the accent which she just couldn't resist? Whatever - it was to be a long and lovely friendship - all weekend at any rate..
The afternoon passed quickly after that with all the girls going out to make friends. Numerous were asked if they would like to become farmers wives. On enquiring, One Pint found that this entailed milking the cows, collecting the eggs and making sure the breakfast was on the table in the morning. Simple really. And Espagille found herself a wee miniature.
Quite a few girls took the opportunity to get their missions underway with Puma jogging around the pub three times, Virgin Lizzie trying to do something strange with her teeth (was that really part of her mission?) and numerous songs being taught to willing volunteers (did it have to be the wheels on the bus?....really!). Stan faithfully lined our whip with money and spoons were at the ready at all times. Foxy never one to let us down had one too many lager-shandies and probably spent the rest of the tour regretting ever having found Wetherspoons.
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