Before I married Sr. Matteo in March, I lived in a city just outside of Atlanta called Decatur (longtime readers, you know we are proud Decaturites). Cath and I fell in love with Decatur about ten years ago when we moved from D.C. to the fair city to go to college. Decatur is a small town, next to a big city (just six miles east from the heart of Atlanta): wonderful restaurants (just read this!), great boutiques, galleries and green space.

Well, 10 years after moving to Decatur, I moved to the Scottish Decatur, better known as Edinburgh. There are some major differences. Edinburgh is bigger both in size and population, it is quite a bit older, hillier, colder, windier, rainier, and better for a Romantic (capital “r”) state-of-mind.

So the cities aren’t identical, but here is what they have in common: wonderfully friendly people and a small town feel. I haven’t met very many people here because I work from home, but somehow when I go out, I bump into one of the five people I’ve met. There are great restaurants and independent boutiques, and very little pretention and pockets of diversity.

Now that we’ve started to feel a little less frantic (find an apartment! open a bank account! get some internets!), Matteo and I are trying to get to know our neighborhood better. We’ve found a couple of really terrific bakeries (that’s Dough Re Mi below).

Look at that French bread deliciousness below: that folded over bit of bread is like Moroccan focaccia called harissa (spicy and delicious), there’s the most buttery pain au chocolats and croissants (we bought the lot after a morning jog — in my opinion, the only reason to do something so masochistic is for butter and chocolate).

Another local bakery around the block makes this delicious jam: it has tart cranberries and sweet strawberries, made for sinking into buttery crumpet holes.

Here is a photo of what I look like before I gain 200 pounds (i.e. 14 stone) from eating butter in its different delightful forms:

Apparently, we prefer to mainly explore our new city gastronomically. We figured it is up to us to try every single café and restaurant around our flat, you know, for our guests that are coming to visit. Such a terrific sacrifice on our part of course.

Here is some Edinburgh “Crombie” (sausage) and tatties (potatoes) at Café Grande and below is our berry crumble (and cream!) for dessert.

Thanks for following along with all this day-to-day stuff! Probably from the pics it looks like we just get to skip around a beautiful city and stuff ourselves with croissants. AsianCajuns lets me stay in touch with Kitcath (and you guys) and remember why I moved across the ocean and have to make a fresh start in a new place. It’s a lovely, magically place and one of my favorite cities in the whole world, but it has been a bewildering and a little lonely and stressful at times.

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Dear Kitcath,

Like I was telling you, I started reading Her Fearful Symmetry. It’s weird to read a book about twins (I don’t think I have – except for that one Sweet Valley High). Niffenegger makes us/twins sound a little creepy. Are we creepy? I mean we aren’t pale and white/blond-haired like these mirror twin girls, but she says they made people uneasy when they saw the twins together. I know we freak people out when we say the same thing at the same time.

I want you to read this and the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peal Pie Society when you get here. Or buy one of them for the flight over.

Good luck on your paper, Kitcath! Wish I could help you write it!

xoxoxo,

Larbar

p.s. Do you think we could make Edinburgh and Decatur unofficial (twin) sister cities?!

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Edit: Oct. 31 • 6:20 pm BST
Fellow Decaturite Lain S. points out that Decatur and Edinburgh also have another wonderful thing in common: Book Festivals. Lucky for us, they fall one right after each other in August (Edinburgh International Book Festival) and then September (AJC Decatur Book Festival). No excuse not to go to both, right?

I keep forgetting our slight vocabulary differences over here: biscuits, not cookies; jelly, not jello; trousers, not pants (pants here are undies-whoops!). I, of course, keep using the wrong American words for things. Also, I’ve noticed that here my voice seems to carry more. I’m a loud American, and I can’t help it! In the states I’m considered somewhat soft-spoken. Here I’m downright bombastic.

So combine my misuse of words and “loud” voice and you get: “Matt! How do you like my new pink pants?!” I’m sure I said this some place public too. The bus, was it? I’m going to learn to speak quietly just to stop any more awkward moments. Not that anyone would say anything. People are far too polite.

Outfit dets: Lands End cardi • Spun Scarves scarf/shawl • Pink pants trousers from Next • Mango shoes • Longchamp purse • AsianCajun necklace

Pst. Look how well I matched my outfit to my curtains. Nice, eh? I was going for a early 1990s upholstery look.

P.S. Chloe, thank you so much for my beautiful Longchamp. What a gorgeous going-away gift. You would be so proud of me. The first thing I put in it was a buttery pain au chocolat.

Apart from learning English, we’ve been busy trying to find new favorite restaurants and haunts. We think last weekend we might have found “our” Korean restaurant. It’s called Kim’s Mini Meals (I think the “mini” comes from the teeny charming dining room – the portions are generous), and it is delicious! The food is 100% Korean, but the decor has a heavy British influence. I love a good mix (*cough* AsianCajun).

Matt was particularly ecstatic: spicy and Asian are his two favorite things (again *cough, cough* AsianCajun):

Just look at this delicious bibimbap! (I always order bibimbap because I love saying it: bibimbap bibimbap, bibimbap!):

Note the British tea pot, serving not Earl Gray, but Korean brown rice tea!

Deeelicious! Chloe, Cath and Troy, when you visit, we’re going here!

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Dear Kitcath,

You are not on skype today. What am I suppose to do without my daily dose of Kitcath?!

Today I walked over to S. Clerk St. from our flat and I totally felt like I was going to see you at your flat. Argh! This city is just not right without you in it.

Also, I bought those pink trousers because of you! I love your pink pants and wanted to have something similar. Now I won’t just blend in with the gray skies here. You should bring your pair when you come to visit and then we can be twinsies.

Miss you so much. GET ON SKYPE!

LOVE,

Larbar

Anybody who knows me, knows I’m not outdoorsy. I love nature: the sun, grass between the toesies, beautiful flowers — love that part of nature. I’m less cool with the bugs and the rain and the hard ground, and the peeing in the woods. I can do it, but I’ll be grumpy. I’ve been camping with some great people, and have had a lot of fun, but if I had to choose I would make my s’mores around the campfire and then hightail it to the nearest hotel for the night.

Reason #57 for Why I Love Scotland. Just because you might not think of yourself as outdoorsy doesn’t mean you can’t go hillwalking. You don’t even have to wear proper attire. No one will look at you sideways if you try to scamper up a rainy steep hill in ballet flats (okay, I looked askance at a girl who was doing that — mainly because I was jealous I was wearing big ole hiking boots). Everyone here is “outdoorsy” without being outdoorsy. Little kids, grannies, everyone walks up and down hills. hills that Atlanta Lar would have called mountains.

Hills are unavoidable here, so that might be one reason. But you could skirt around most of them if you tried. Not for these hard walking peeps. They make hillwalking a national pastime. And you can do it with such ease even if you are city slicker.

For instance, this gorgeous dead volcanic mass called Arthur’s Seat is located smack dab in the middle of Edinburgh. Matt and I climbed it our first weekend in town. We waited toward the top for the clouds to clear and — wowza!– gorgeous views of the city for miles and miles.

I’m terribly out of shape (I get out of breath walking up a hill to our local grocery store here), but it’s okay. Here’s another tradition I love about hillwalking. Afterward you reward yourself with a nice strong cuppa and a biscuit (i.e. cookie).

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Dear Kitcath,

Remember when we climbed Arthur’s Seat our first day in Edinburgh? I kind of think that’s when we first fell in love with Edi, don’t you? I so wish I could relive that first day with you! I think it’s so funny that mom was so worried about us studying abroad in Spain and falling in love with a Spanish man. Little did she know we would fall with a Scottish. city. Love at first sight, I’d say.

I miss you so much! I’ll have real internets tomorrow (knock wood) – so we can video chat again! YIPPEEEE!!!

LOVE,

Larbar

I’m starting to believe that the more cups of tea you drink, the more British you become. If that’s the case, I’m about 60-70 bags more British since arriving here 22 days ago. I’ve always liked tea (and love a glass of sweet tea home in Atlanta) so it’s not much of a learning curve. Cath and I were Anglophiles/Scotophiles at an early age thanks to our mom’s proclivity for watching British TV on PBS when we were growing up (if we had had cable, we would have been entirely different people).

So, even though this transition period has been hard (I had quite a mean spurt of blues last night — missing my family and friends), there are so many things that more than make up for it in this lovely country of tea and crumpets and cheery pubs!

Matt and I stumbled upon Roseleaf in Leith our first week in town. You can just make out their green pub sign behind my head in these photos:

Outfit details: Madewell jacket and jeans • thfited blouse • Frye boots • canvas tote from a Japanese mag bought in San Francisco’s Japantown

Now why was Roseleaf such a site-for-weary-traveler’s-eyes?

Well, to start, we didn’t realize it was such a popular place until we stumbled in on a Saturday afternoon and all the tables were reserved. Never fear! The very kind Scottish barman cleared a teeny table for us (below: not our teeny table):

We got to share our perfect-for-two table with a fringed lampshade lamp and these two jolly trash bin (me thinks?) salt and pepper shakers:

We started with some tea/drinky poos:

And then we had a gander at their food menu — oh my!

Can you guess what I got? (Like my subtle highlighting of the menu?) And this is what the Roseleafer looked like in person:

I promise the vegetarian haggis (lower left corner) was delicious especially mixed around with my potato pancake, egg and tomato!

Matt was slightly more reserved than I and went for the potato stack: potato pancakes, bacon, egg — also delicious (and a great suggestion for those who just had a slightly nauseated feeling when reading “vegetarian haggis”):

We no longer live just a few minutes walk from Roseleaf (huge sigh!), but I will journey out there as often as I can. Look they even bring you your bill in an old tobacco tin – loves it!

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Dear Kitcath,

I am enamored of your hat, and do want one very much like it. Though I’m still concerned that brimmed hats are wont to blow off heads in Edinburgh’s gales. I actually haven’t seen too many ladies with cute hats on here, and I’m guessing that’s why. Hoods, yes. Umbrellas, yes. Dapper fodoras, non. Will keep you posted.

Also, thanks for trying to cheer me up last night! I ended up going out and buying two mags: British Vogue (Rhianna cover) and a BBC Food Mag. The latter might seem like a strange choice, but I really need to start wrapping my head around British recipes. What does 400 ml of something look like?! Also, it came with a magenta spatula, so I was sold.

Miss you terribly! Will take you guys to Roseleaf when you’re here for Christmas!!! Yipppeees!

xoxoxoxoxo,

Larbar

Hellooo blanket/scarf! You were made for dreary, cold weather. You are warm  and snugly around my neck or wrapped around my arms while I drink a cuppa. Scottish autumn/winter (really no difference), you have met your match!

This blanket/scarf is from Shopbop. I needed a bit of therapy after our stressful weeks of settling-in, and I did a little happy dance when I realized they would ship to my brand new Scottish flat in just a few days.

Can you tell from these pics I’m spending too much time home alone. Being a graphic designer working from home can be a bit isolating. particularly when you are wont to go spend your hard earned money on pastries, scones and tea (and maybe some clothes) whenever you step outside.

Madewell jacket • Spun scarf • thrifted purse • Blank black cords • Hunter wellies

I try to wear my blanket/scarf more responsibly when I’m out of doors (and in public). This has been my uniform since I’ve been here: layers of jackets/coats, scarf (the bigger the better), skinny pants and boots.

Once winter really hits (which we’ve been forewarned that it’s going to be a bad one), I’ll just add more layers: tights under trousers, coat on top of jackets, woolly socks under wellies.

I’m really selling you guys on the whole visit-me-in-Scotland thing, aren’t I?

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Dear Kitcath,

Had to include this photo for you. Can you believe it’s been seven years since we lived in this city together? It feels wrong to be in Edinburgh without you — it definitely loses much of its sparkle for me! We spent a lot of last weekend on South Clerk Street, and it makes me miss you extra mucho!

As you can see, this past week we’ve been here, Matt shaved his mustache and decided my red lipstick looks better on him. I’ve dyed my hair and decided eyebrows were unnecessary (as well as eyelids). We’ve also taken to standing on tartan ground, in front of a large rose bush. Weird things happen when you move to a different country.

Oh wait, no! That’s not us (silly, Lar)! I get so easily confused these days, what with the lingering jet lag and unexpectedly summery weather here in the UK (70s and sunny! That’s not what I signed up for when I said I would move to Scotland). In fact, these photos are about two weeks old.

My mom threw us a going-away family dinner, and of course she did it so beautifully! My mom’s tablescapes would make Martha Stewart green with envy: the intentionally weird thrifted Scottish Madame Alexander dolls, tartan table cloth, Scottish flags, gorgeous flower arrangements — all done for very little money. Martha Stewart with a heart and on a budget (and no previous jail time) — that’s my mom.

Matt’s mom made us the most delicious and beautiful apple pie!

I’ll leave you one last outfit picture of mine, standing next to my (pepper shaker) Scottie dog:

Do you like my knee-highs or do you prefer ballet flats sans the tartan? I can’t decide. My lace cuffs look like they’ve seen better days as well. At least my fanny pack/bum bag/sporran looks cute!

Seriously though, I’m sorry I don’t have actual Scotland pics to share with you at the moment. Matt and I are still living out of our suitcases in our temporary flat (thank you Airbnb and host Tommy)! We move into our very own lovely place on Tuesday! I am soooo excited! I’ll make sure to take plenty of photos of our new space. In the meantime, we’ve both been working (Matt in his new lab at Uni and me on my computer: I’ve joined that “elite” group of remotely working graphic designers), and trying not to spend money — which makes for very boring photos.

Oh here’s one I’ve been meaning to share for a while. See that suitcase there? Blue, medium to largish. That, my friends, is what I fit my entire wardrobe in: shoes and clothes. My second suitcase was reserved for toiletries, artsy stuffs, and four purses. I’m quite proud I made it over here like that. However, because of it, you might have to count on Cath for a while for the cuter outfit pics 😉

Hope you all are having a wonderful weekend! Tell me what you’re up to!