Ths is the way the world ends

Yesterday was the last day of the Fringe Festival, and though some of the shows are running longer in hopes of squeezing out an overlooked pound, most are packing up and leaving town. Unguarded drum sets and stage equipment is sprinkled on the streets and watching some packing efforts is akin to that gag with too many clowns in too small a car. Churches, bathrooms and student drill halls are emerging out of this shanty town of theater venues and the Fringe Shop hangs a "sale" sign in the window. Banners are being collapsed down, posters stripped, and High Street has opened again to its regularly scheduled traffic.

Tourists are also leaving in waves, and slowly from around the corners, emerge the locals who have been patiently waiting to prove their loving consistency to Edinburgh.

I know it’s a belated realization, but the city is a wealth of amusement without the tacky tartan tourist traps and, dare I say it? Even without the festival.

From Edinburgh Castle (the focal point of the city around which everything else merely sprawls like so much volcanic ash…Scotland’s answer to the Acropolis), Holyrood Palace, Arthur’s Seat, hide-and-seek in Ikea, the Zoo, Sheep’s Heid, graveyard tours, pub crawls, coffee shops that sing their connection to Harry Potter, University Fresher’s week around the corner, and “so much more” being the only cliché capable of freeing me from a seemingly endless list.

For me however, with only another day of wonderfully aimless wandering, my summer seems to end here.

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper.

University of Edinburgh Residence Hall

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