This past September marked four years since I moved to Edinburgh. That’s the same amount of time I spent at high school, and doing my undergrad at university. The four years have been warped by the years we lost to the pandemic, but still it feels the dial in my life has shifted. I’ve now crossed the threshold to having lived more of my adult life in Edinburgh than I did in Canada, and likely will just continue on living here forever.
When I moved four years ago, that’s certainly not the picture of the future that I had. I’d moved for a gap year of sorts. I knew I wanted to do my Masters, but I felt I was lagging behind in terms of growing up. My undergrad was a blessing and a curse: I went to the local university, so I lived at home the whole time. It meant that if I worked all summer and throughout the school year, I could graduate without any debt. But, it also meant I lived comfortable in my family home until I was 22. I was well aware of the sheltered life I was living By the time I graduated, I more than knew I needed to spread my wings so to speak. So, I put off my masters for at least a year, applied for a youth mobility visa, and left.
I’d convinced a friend to come too, and so we set off together. I’m forever grateful to have moved with a buddy because otherwise I think I, and all my loved ones, would have been a lot more anxious about the move. When I arrived I had one job lead already: an interview for a tour guide job. I had the interview the week I arrived, did some prep for a trial tour, and got the job. Within a month, I was giving tourists tours of Edinburgh’s Old Town. It was the perfect gap year sort of job, and I really loved it! It provided the perfect way for me to explore and learn about the city, and meet new people.
After a three quick months, I went home for Christmas amidst a host of roommate drama. We’d moved into a house with two other male roommates, and one of them was just a bit too lad lad lad for the vibes, and didn’t really seem to understand normal boundaries. If you’ve ever moved away from home, you’ll know that leaving home again after that first visit back is one of the hardest things in the world. I bawled like a baby for two days before I left, and cried my heart out the entire journey back to Scotland. I FaceTimed my mom every night for weeks. After around a month I realised how difficult it would be to be sturdy on my own two feet, alone in a foreign country. I had no friends in Scotland, no family, and a zero hour contract.
I knew I wouldn’t want to stay for a second year after my friend from Canada moved home in September, so I applied to do my Masters at my uni back home, and resolved myself to go back when she did.
Then, I finally felt confident enough to throw myself into life over here. Having that “out” is so important when you have anxiety. Once I had my out, there was nothing to lose! I solo travelled to Bulgaria! I downloaded Tinder! I tried harder to make friends! I started blogging a lot more and, most importantly, I met Angus.
I was quite a cautious Tinder dater, and so on our first few dates (it was a slow burner), Angus and I wandered all of Edinburgh. We walked from Gorgie to Leith - that’s the level of wandering. We discovered that you could see the cranes working on the St James Quarter from every part of the city. When we were apart, we started sending each other photos of the cranes wherever we went. If the weather was nice, I would walk over to Calton Hill in between my tours to meet him on his lunch break between my tours. We would admire the cranes and talk incessantly.
By the summertime, I’d deferred my uni acceptance for a year to see what would happen. Still, I joked constantly that the cranes would outlive me in Edinburgh, because one way or another my visa would expire in just another year. The cranes were an ever present reminder of just how small my time in Scotland would be.
I’m happy to confirm: the cranes did not outlive me. Instead, I ended 2019 by finding a job in marketing, and moving in with Angus. In early 2020 he proposed, and I gave notice at my job. Then, lockdown hit, we got married, we got a cat, I started my Masters remotely in lockdown. In 2021, we got a flat, and I kept studying. 2022 came, I got a new job, I graduated, and… here we are.
While the cranes are no more, in the past few months I’ve gone to the St James Centre for a work event, I’ve wandered its shops with my closest gal pals, and I’ve had my sister Deliveroo me bubble tea from Bubbleology from her house in Canada when I was feeling low. No moment is too small of a win when it’s a moment you really, truly, never thought you would get to witness.
August 12th, 2019, One of our lunch time dates.
July 2nd, 2020, Two days before our wedding day. We’d walked from Gorgie to Dunbar’s Close to see where we’d be getting married, and stopped at Calton Hill to see the cranes before going home
March 13th, 2021, Can you spot the cranes with the almost finished St James Quarter in the background? We could.
June 26th, 2021, Two days after it opened. The first of many visits.