ASK any born-and-bred locals with a basic education where "Edinburgh's Disgrace" is and they'll instantly say Calton Hill.
Those gigantic pillars, some of which are missing because the workers left the job for their tea break and never bothered to go back. T'was always so.
No, the city ran short of the cash required to complete the project. A scenario increasingly fa
miliar as we topple into this hellish new year.
And no, folks, Edinburgh's Disgrace circa 2009 is the Barnton Hotel, for far too long the biggest blight on our urban horizons. And we've a council still too timid to do something meaningful about it.
What again brings to mind this ruinous, truly pathetic pile on the city's busiest corner are new pictures of the comfy accommodation it provides for pigeons with chronic bowel problems. Amid the piles of poo within, rat and mouse faeces too.
An ongoing threat to the well-being of the long-suffering neighbouring residents. Are the environmental health people aware? Or are they, like the city's planners, sitting on their bums in que-sera-sera mode?
Owners Barnton Properties Ltd, reportedly asking £7 million from the council for this hell of a slum, are clamming up. The city's skint. Like the rest of us. Altogether, a crap situation.
Stinco, not stinker Begone gloom and doom, the very idea of it was rubbished at Vin Caffe on Hogmanay. The Caffe was continually screening Frank Capra's classic It's a Wonderful Life starring James Stewart, minus the soundtrack, while diners tucked into stinco d'agnello and Philip Contini and his band dispensed Pennies from Heaven and Volare.
Stimulating stuff in fateful Multrees Walk. And that stinco dish (braised lamb shank) wasn't as unappetising as it sounds.
Call for Paul We're talking wireless here. As if Paul Gambaccini hasn't enough on his plate. He has his own Radio 2 show, four mini-series on Radio 4, presents the music quiz Counterpoint and a regular show on Classic FM.
He is an accomplished broadcaster, though, and I'm badgering the Beeb to give him the run of Five Live in its entirety on Saturday mornings, anything to rid us of the syrupy, saccharine, simpering Eamonn Holmes.
The full article contains 374 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
