A Yank in Edinburgh

After a couple of years in the army I tried college and a series of jobs. I ended up working in a bank for three years. At some point I took stock of my life and decided that I didn't have one. I made plans to see some of Europe. I was a bird out of a cage and the dollar was strong. I had "Europe on $5 a Day", a twenty one day Eurail pass, a ten day Britrail pass, a back pack, and a round trip ticket on Icelandic Air.
I loved it! It set me on fire and made me want to see the world. I went through a good bit of Western Europe, then I went to the UK. London was the most wonderful place. I stayed in Bloomsbury in a servant's room with no lock and no need for one. I discovered theatre and took the cheapest seats, somewhere above the balconies. The buildings themselves were works of art. The tube was marvelous, with wood and fabric escalators and musicians on every platform. I wandered the British Museum for a day.
I headed north and eventually found another city that I loved, Edinburgh. I wandered the city for days. In the evenings I looked for small theatres or music halls. I was attending one of these shows one night when it dawned on me that the songs were very anti British and somewhat anti American. I had mistakenly entered a Scot Separatist Socialist rally. I kept my Yank mouth shut, but I did join in a sort of Conga Line that formed in support of one of the young men who gave fiery speeches and made some wonderful jokes about American tourists and British royalty. They were a very friendly bunch. I just nodded and smiled a lot.
During that trip I got hooked on other places. I learned that this small town boy could love cities and feel quite at home in them. I learned that a country where fried potatoes were served with bad pizza was a country close to my heart. I learned that sweet Scottish ladies in a tea shop would heat soda bread,  for a stranger who could only afford a cup of tea.  I learned that socialists could really sing and dance.