This article is from 2009.
We head out on the High Street to find the best flyers in town
‘Fame is the thirst of youth’, said Lord Byron, a sentiment exemplified nowhere so well as on the Royal Mile in August. This dashing young Byron told us that if we came to see his show today, he’d let us call him by his Christian name. Oh George!
A severe looking fellow in military uniform ordered us smartly to ‘move along there, move along now please,’ when we stopped to stare at the body sprawled across the pavement. The corpse herself was having a little trouble shifting flyers, but her less well-labelled assistants were doing a pretty good job.
The award for friendliest flyerers on the Mile has to go to the lovely ladies from ‘Always a Catholic’. A bevy of gushing nuns wanders up and down beaming at the gorgeousness of everything and everyone in sight, while these sharply-dressed schoolgirls practice a slightly less staid version of religious observance.
Their burkhas are even bluer than the (uncharacteristically blue) sky, and each flyer has been individually kissed by someone with seriously luscious lips. Their flyering abilities were only slightly impeded by an (entirely understandable) susceptibility to the free fudge from Jim Garrahy’s Fudge Kitchen, but on request they handed over three flyers with alacrity.
You’d have to have a heart of stone to refuse a flyer from these bundles of fluff stuff. ‘Look! It’s me! Me!’ says the critter in brown, pointing at the picture. It is indeed her. We might be back later to ask for a hug and a paw-print autograph.