Edinburgh did it’s best with fine Scottish weather when I arrived: cold, wet, windy and miserable so I took refuge in the Surgeons’ Hall Museums. Learnt some fascinating things including the revelation that Arthur Conan Doyle studied medicine and based Sherlock Holmes on one of his tutors with incredible powers of deduction. The museum had a tiny, tiny section on women in surgery; criminally small. A group called the Edinburgh Seven fought for the right to study and practice as doctors. (Apparently one of the lauded Uni professors said the poor intellectual ability and stamina of women would lower professional standards!) The Surgeons’ Hall Riot occurred in 1870, during which mud, insults and rubbish were thrown at them when they arrived to sit an anatomy exam. There was nowhere in UK for the women to sit their final exams and some got their qualifications in Europe or Ireland.

There is only one permanent labyrinth in Edinburgh that I’m aware of and I was turned away from George Square under the pretext that it was a ‘’construction site’ in preparation for the Edinburgh Festival. Unimpressed I was and sought refuge in Leith where I drew a small one in chalk at the feet of Sandy Robertson. Sat and told him of my frustrations. He was a good listener.