The Way You Make Me Feel

She was here. Holy crap, she was actually here.

Charlotte got off the train from Liverpool, walked up the steps with all the other groggy train patrons, and froze. A wall full of what looked like flowers embodied a radiant peacock on the exterior of a Coffee + Beer Palace whose sign in the peacock's tail identified it as Brewhemia. This felt like something out of a dream or a fairy tale. The air carried a loamy scent as if the earth itself was exhaling memories of summer, blending dampness and decay into a comforting aroma that lingered on the crisp breeze.

A few hours remained before her room at the hostel would be ready for check-in and the streets of Edinburgh were calling out to her.

The narrow streets lent to the old-world charm and boasted shops offering everything from boxed chocolates to handmade woolen kilts. Charlotte found herself wandering into a quaint coffee shop for a midday pick-me-up as she watched both tourists and locals alike go about their day. She could have happily stayed there all day, but her stomach groaned in protest and she knew she should venture back out into the world in search of sustenance.

She found it in a charming restaurant named kil•der•kin upon seeing the menu outside declaring to have a must-have dish of haggis, neeps, & tatties so in she ventured to get a beer and the traditional dish. The haggis wasn’t what she’d expected but then again, she wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected. It was crumbly and peppery and she found her favorite combination was eating all three together creating a mix of sweet, buttery, and spicy on her palette.

Google Maps told her she was only a 12-minute walk from the hostel, so she paid for her meal and headed to her check-in.

A spray-painted mural of Dobbie greeted her as she walked into the reception area of St. Christophers. Check-in was easy enough so with her keycard in hand, she followed the receptionist through the hostel as they pointed out the bathroom, her room, and the locker room where she offloaded her backpack into her assigned locker.

Her room was full of the same old-world charm as outside, with a fireplace she could have walked in, ornate woodwork from floor to ceiling, and 9 bunk beds, each fitted with its own privacy curtain. She figured she could probably fit 3 of her bedrooms from back home into this room. The centerpiece, though, was a bay window that took up two-thirds of the height of its wall with a chair begging to be slouched into so slouch she did. It was as heavenly as it looked.

Only wanting to take a short rest from the outside, she traveled back out to explore some more. She was walking around the more shop-oriented streets when she found herself right in front of an enchanting little bar called Auld Hundred. Figuring this was as good a time as any for another beer, she made her way in. If they had food, well then that was an added benefit but if not, she’d just get a beer and be on her way.

She ordered herself a Cold Town Seasonal and settled herself at a table for two with deceptively comfortable chairs made from barrels. She pulled out her phone and started planning what she wanted to do for the next 3 days to fit as many possible sightseeing, travel junky, experiences she could into her time here.

Pondering on signing up for a ghost walk, she began people-watching again, as one does, and her eyes landed on a sign that claimed tonight was Live Mic night. Oh whoopee. A bunch of awful singers trying to get their 20 minutes of validation. She wasn’t the type for live music in bars. Street music? Now, street music was a different story. She had not had a day without beautiful violins or small bands of men in tuxes playing hauntingly moving music since she began this trip. In lieu of all that, taking it slow on her first day seemed like a better plan than rushing around, and anyway, she could go for another beer. Was it just her or did it really taste better over here? Could it be worth it to move two dogs and two cats overseas? 

The first guy got up on the platform and immediately began apologizing for being “half-cocked” and having a “shy voice”. Charlotte had no idea what this guy was talking about, he had great vocals. Maybe she’d get the chance to talk to him later and let him know, he was kinda cute.

She was continuing to research "Fun things to do in Edinburgh" when a cold burst of air hit her legs for about the fifth time. Looking around to see who’d opened the door this time round, she saw a guy carrying a guitar nod to the bartender, grab the beer that he hadn’t ordered, and sit down at a table in front of her.

Must be another musician. Looks confident enough I suppose. Eyes flicking back to her phone, she heard the bartender tell this guy he was up next, so she figured she’d stay for his show. As soon as he got situated and began singing, their eyes met and locked on to one another. It was like two frayed ends of a rope had found each other and grabbed on, promising to never let go again. She felt the room go silent except for his voice. She couldn’t hear the words he was singing but it didn’t matter, she didn’t want him to stop. Or maybe she did so she could go talk to him.

She pulled out her phone and messaged her friend about this guy who she couldn’t stop staring at. Or he couldn’t stop staring at her. She couldn’t really tell which, but she wasn’t sure if she found it uncomfortable or if she was kinda into it.

After a few back-and-forths with her best friend, it was decided, she was into it. Charlotte wanted to get his social media handle but her best friend said to forget the social media and get into his pants. She wasn’t sure she had the bravery for something that bold but who didn’t enjoy a little challenge? And anyway, she was finding herself on this trip. What was finding yourself if not trying new things and stepping out of your comfort zone, maybe living life on the edge a little?

After his set, she slid herself out of her chair to sink into the one next to this red-headed guitarist and held out her hand introducing herself. He took her hand and introduced himself as Andrea. She was hooked.

Andrea told her all about his adventures of moving here from Sardinia 11 years before without speaking any English. He’d also invited her out for more drinks after the show and Charlotte felt safe around him, so they walked down to The Black Cats bar which was just about to close but allowed the two of them to get one beer each. She felt as if it were beginning to get pretty late and a glance at her watch told her it was 1 am. She began telling Andrea she needed to be getting back to the hostel to get some sleep but he wouldn’t hear of it and invited her to his flat instead, sweetening the pot with the indulgence of a hot shower. She’d told him about her cold shower escapades at the hostels over the last few days.

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She absolutely wanted to go to a strange musician's flat in a foreign country at 1 am for a hot shower. She took his hand and didnt let go until they got out of the cab in front of his flat.

It was so different from the apartments she was used to in America. Here, every level was considered a ‘flat’ and the whole building was made from concrete with very secure metal doors that echoed against the walls of the hallway outside Andrea’s front door. He led her to his bedroom in the back of the flat where he handed her a towel and then showed her where the bathroom was. She closed the door and figured out how to turn the hot water on in the shower, taking a moment to realize how crazy this whole situation felt right now. She was in a foreign country, in a hot musician's apartment, in his shower. Was this real life? The water felt unreal over her body. She contemplated staying in there all night but didn’t want to keep the hot musician waiting so she got out and wrapped the towel just tight enough to keep it from slipping off of her while she walked across the hallway where it ended up slipping to the ground in a puddle at her feet.

The next morning Andrea took her to his favorite breakfast place around the corner from his flat. She ordered coffee with cream and sugar and something called a bacon, sausage, and egg filled roll which ended up looking exactly like its name implied. The sandwich was good, but the coffee was out of this world. She felt like she was in a storybook again. It had been this run-down-looking, whole-in-the-wall breakfast place but yet this coffee was the best coffee she’d had in her entire life.

They’d talked over breakfast about how she wanted to explore the city on her own and Andrea said he’d only agree to letting her go if she agreed to a date with him tonight.

So she went and climbed Arthur’s Seat, but not before stopping at a cute coffee shop along the way to pick up some extra caffeine for the day. The top of the ancient volcano offered her a 360˚ view of the entire city leading out into the ocean. It was breathtaking not only figuratively, but almost literally, as the winds at the top of Arthur’s Seat were more like gales.

She walked herself around the city for a few more hours, finding a shop here and there that she would wander into, but eventually made her way back to the hostel to get ready to go on a date with her Italian later that night.

They met on the steps of The Inn at the Place to grab a pre-dinner drink before heading to a rather unremarkable dinner at an Italian restaurant, but that didn’t matter, this was something from a dream. Not only was Andrea attractive and had an unforgettable voice, but he was also smart and so interesting to get to know. This felt like something she wanted to get used to.

Their evening together after dinner was not much different from the last except this time, they opened a window to let some of the cool night air in. Andrea sat up against a mound of pillows on his bed and pulled her in between his legs to rest up against his chest. He asked her if she had any interest in watching Archer and she agreed cooly but was anything but on the inside. This was quickly becoming something she didn’t want to leave.

He began rolling up a mixture of tobacco and marijuana offering her what he called a joint and what she explained was considered a spliff in America. It had a different calming effect and more of a body buzz than what she was used to, but she didn’t hate it.

She didn’t quite remember waking up the next morning but came to rather quickly when she didn’t see Andrea next to her and then realized what sensation she was feeling in her body. It was a rather unexpected but very welcome start to her day.

Charlotte wandered off to explore the city again during the day and found a Harry Potter store where she promptly bought a sweatshirt from the only house that mattered, Slytherin, and wore it for the rest of the day. Only feeling slightly silly when she noticed no one else was wearing any Harry Potter merch around the city but that didn’t stop her.

That evening was the ghost tour she had signed up for at Auld Hundred. Charlotte would give her right arm for a good ghost tour, and the tour guide did not disappoint. They walked as a group around the city learning facts from centuries passed and were taken down into the Edinburgh Vaults. What had once housed taverns and workshops for cobblers and other tradesmen, eventually deteriorated to such poor quality that the homeless moved in and criminal activity became rampant.

They finished the tour in a small, dimly lit room where everyone was handed a rather tasty glass of whiskey and listened to some ghost stories from a second tour guide.

Having her ghost tour expectations met, Charlotte returned to Andrea’s to spend her final night with her Italian musician. He welcomed her into his flat with comfy pants in hand ready for her to change into, like she belonged there. It was a bittersweet gesture.

The night's activities blurred into the morning where they continued as if never paused. Charlotte felt like she couldn’t get close enough to Andrea and wasn’t ready for reality to start again.

They walked down to Bacon Roll one last time to get breakfast before spending the morning talking about the rest of her trip. She was heading to Dublin next, then Amsterdam. The conversation flowed into how they felt about each other and what life could look like if she moved to Edinburgh. It felt unreal to imagine she and Andrea living here in this flat together, walking the city together by day, going to see Andrea play his gigs every night, but before she knew it, it was time to take her Uber to the airport.

She gave him one last kiss goodbye before forcing herself to walk out of his flat, not looking back. She knew if she looked back she would cave and never leave again, and so she said goodbye while driving through the streets of Edinburgh, knowing she had forever left a piece of her heart here.