– by Grace Lucchesi
Disclaimer: all of these “near death experiences” are exaggerations- I have, so far, never genuinely feared for my life whilst living in Edinburgh. I actually waited several weeks before writing this post in hopes that I would have a fifth near-death experience, as that would’ve made this a more well-rounded list, but after waiting over a month I guess I’m just too experienced now for those newbie mistakes!
1. Falling down the Scotsman steps
I arrived in Edinburgh early January, a time when, at night, temperatures would approach freezing, and the sun would set at a mere 4pm. After going to a pub with a friend, heading back towards Princes Street, he suggested we take the Scotsman steps to get down (as opposed to other stairways from Victoria’s street to the Waverley station area). The steps, unlike the rest of the streets of Edinburgh, are made of smooth, polished stone rather than cobblestone. On a wet, cold January evening, they were unsurprisingly slick, and though I was wearing shoes with comparatively good traction, my feet went out from under me and my arms shot out, grabbing for my friend for support, who cartoonishly ducked out of the way. Luckily, the Scotsman steps aren’t a straight-shot down the hill to Waverley station, instead, are arranged in a square-shaped pattern, so that each side has about ten steps and then a flat landing in the corner. Also, since I fell backward, there wasn’t much momentum propelling me forward as much as down, so I got up with not much more than a bruised ego.
2. Swimming at Portobello Beach
One of my first weekends in Edinburgh, my flatmate invited me along with the “Bluetits society”, a society that swims every Sunday morning. This weekend in particular, the swim was held at Portobello beach, only a couple buses away from our accommodation. Having lived nowhere near the ocean my entire life, and having seen my fair share of ice bath Tiktoks advocating for the health benefits of soaking in cold water, I excitedly agreed.
As we stood on the beach at 11am on a chilly, cloudy, windy January morning, still clothed, the doubt crept in. I was already cold. If we went in promptly at 11, I wouldn’t have had time to think about it, like the fear that creeps in waiting in line for a rollercoaster. Another friend already claimed she had no intention of swimming, and made her way to a nearby coffee shop.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t go in,” the friend who invited me said. But I was already here. I paid for two buses to get here. It’d be a little silly to back out now.
Finally it was time. As everyone undressed, I felt oddly exposed. When I packed to leave the US, I expected that I wouldn’t be swimming unless I was in the warm Mediterranean waters of Italy or something. I left my one-piece at home. Not that the extra belly coverage would’ve helped me against the unforgiving wind of the North Sea.
The club regulars eagerly sprinted towards the water, which was a good football field away. My friends and I apprehensively half-galloped for an embarrassingly long time before reaching the water, and then trudged in. I was probably in the water for less than a second, dipping in up to my neck and immediately springing up again, looking to my friend to head back. As we left the water, I didn’t feel cold anymore, instead, my skin felt hot. I bundled back up and bought a hot chocolate from a shop near the beach, and for the rest of the trip home, I sat quietly, pacified, sipping on my hot chocolate. My body felt relaxed and I thought about how nice it would be to take a nap- a temptation not far from how hypothermia is portrayed in books.
3. Climbing Arthur’s Seat
When you look at Arthur’s Seat from the city, it doesn’t look all that big. I mean, it’s not even a stereotypically shaped volcano, and covered with grass and vegetation, it looks more like a steep hill. I waited several weeks for a nice day that I didn’t have class to climb it, which landed on a windy Saturday in February. I’m myself a recreational hiker, having hiked in several national parks throughout the states, including the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and the Smokies. I thought, it’s such a common hike, it really can’t be that difficult, especially for me. I thought wrong.
My friend, in much better shape than me, someone who goes to the gym almost every day, eats well, etc. opted for the path on the right that leads along the south-facing face of the mountain. What I didn’t realize was that this path, unlike the other, which we took to go down, was mostly stairs. I’m used to stairs. I’ve lived in dorm buildings for the past few years, none of them having elevators, and everyday I would get my workout going up and down for class, for meals, for laundry, and anything else. What I’m not used to is climbing endless stairs while simultaneously walking into a wall of wind. I asked, multiple times, if it was always that windy on Arthur’s Seat, or if we just picked a bad day, and I didn’t get a straight answer. Every time I picked up my foot to climb the next step, the wind threatened to throw me over the edge. To make matters worse, my friend, who I’ve already mentioned was in significantly better shape than me, was climbing the steps at an alarming rate, whereas I only slowed down, legs and lungs burning. In fact, it seemed like everyone else who was climbing that day was having a much easier time than me. Determined and a little embarrassed, I tried to keep up, marching up the steps puffing like a chain smoker, until I physically could not keep going.
“I need to take a break,” I wheezed. There was nowhere to sit, so I just bent over, hands on my knees. I felt like I was going to throw up, and at that point, that didn’t seem like the worst thing. We were almost at the top, at this point, it was so windy it took all my energy just to fight the wind from knocking me down. My friend advised we find a better spot for a break. After getting to the top of the first hill, there’d be a small dip before the final climb to the peak. I agreed, to the protest of my body. Making it to the top was little relief. The wind, unsurprisingly, was the worst it’d been all trip, and, if I may, maybe even the worst I’ve experienced ever. It came from all sides, and now, we were exposed to the incoming wind from the sea. You’d think with all the people at the top, there would be a little cover, but nope!
4. Walking in front of traffic
As most people know, in the United States, traffic drives on the right side of the road, whereas in the UK, traffic is on the left. I didn’t realize how much this mattered until I landed in Edinburgh. You’d think that, when you’re crossing a street, you look both ways, and if no car is coming from either side, you cross. Simple enough. At least, it would be, if it was a simple city. In such a large, walkable city, road infrastructure is arranged a little differently than in my small college town. Roundabouts, split roads, and bike lanes all complicate the flow of foot traffic. On Princes street, Edinburgh has graced tourists with handy “LOOK LEFT” and “LOOK RIGHT” signs painted on the road at an intersection, telling you where the traffic is coming from. Venturing outside of the tourist side of town, you’re left to your own devices.
It’s not that hard to avoid oncoming cars and buses when you cross in the middle of a straight road. It gets a little more complicated when you’re at a 3-way intersection and the road parallel to you doesn’t have to stop or yield. The third road, the one you’re intending to cross, has a divider in the middle, so you don’t have to wait for both directions to be clear. The road is on your left, so, in the US, the first traffic you would come across is traffic approaching the main road from the side road, so instinctively, you look left. Wrong. The traffic you’re supposed to be looking for is on your right, turning from the main road, approaching from behind you, and is now mad because you’re in the intersection and they have the right of way.
Traffic lights operate noticeably different from the US, where crossing the street is allowed parallel to traffic and cars turning are then required to yield to pedestrians. In Edinburgh, all traffic is halted so that all pedestrians can cross at the same time. This is arguably safer- if people obeyed the traffic laws. Instead, people cross on red when no car is coming, which works if you are well versed in UK traffic laws. Otherwise you stand in the intersection, in the way, while the more experienced Edinburgh walkers navigate around you, or you tentatively follow the crowd like a sheep. Although it’s worth noting that even the most experienced Edinburgh walkers aren’t immune to hazardous traffic, as only a few weeks ago I was given a walking green light and then was honked at by an impatient driver, only to, at the next street, accidentally walk in front of a turning car that had the right of way.
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