My Stories of Edinburgh | 爱丁堡二三趣事
Written by: Zhang Heruijie | 张贺睿婕
Editor’s Note:
This article is excerpted from Haha! Britain — a charitable bilingual publication co-produced by The Mothers’ Bridge of Love (MBL) and River Cam Breeze. The book is a lively collaboration between 42 Chinese authors living in the UK and 36 university-based volunteer translators. With wit and warmth, the stories capture the everyday realities of Chinese communities in Britain, offering an honest look at the cultural clashes, humour, and adaptation that arise in the space between Chinese and British ways of life. Haha! Britain has been warmly endorsed by several well-known figures in UK-China relations, including Stephen Perry (former Chairman of the 48 Group Club), Luise Schäfer OBE (former British diplomat and Chamber of Commerce chair), Professor Hugo De Burgh (former BBC editor and academic), and British scholar Martin Jacques. The book’s title was handwritten by celebrated British-Chinese artist Qu Leilei, its cover illustrated by bestselling Chinese author and poet Feng Tang, and the postscript contributed by Xue Mo, a prominent voice in contemporary Chinese literature.
Illustrated by Tian Tian
1. Windy Edinburgh
“Edinburgh is very windy!”, or so have I warned all of my friends who came to Edinburgh to visit. But I guess the word “windy” just does not carry enough meaning because all of my friends, one after another, insisted on using an umbrella in Edinburgh and all ended up lamenting how the wind destroyed their umbrellas. I could relate, as I too once lost a beloved umbrella to the winds of Edinburgh.
Before coming to the UK, I used to care a lot about my appearance. But after just two weeks in Edinburgh, I gave up on combing my hair altogether. Instead, I’d simply run my fingers through it a couple of times and step outside, leaving the task of styling to the most renowned hairdresser in the city – Miss Wind. After all, in Edinburgh, your hair often ends up looking like a flag billowing in the breeze, so really, what’s the point of fussing over it?
I remember when I first came to Edinburgh, I was ignorant and fearless, utterly unafraid of the wind. I went out with two friends on an especially windy day, and it is still one of my most “moving and tragic” memories.
I found myself in the middle, my right arm wrapped tightly around my friend’s left, while she clung to a sturdy street pole as if her life depended on it. Her right hand was gripping her clothes so fiercely that it seemed as though, if she let go, the wind might rip her coat – and her skin – right off, leaving only a cartoonish skeleton behind. On my left, I was holding onto another friend, who was much too skinny for the battle we were facing. The wind filled her eyes with tears, and we locked gazes. If this were a film, she would’ve whispered, “One of us has to survive,” before dramatically letting go of my hand, tears streaming down her face. I’d be left standing there, watching as she tumbled down the hill, blown all the way from the city centre to the sea.
Luckily, after half an hour of fighting the wind, we reached our destination in one piece – with our clothes and skin intact.
Relax, it is usually not this windy in Edinburgh.
2. Sunset at Calton Hill
Calton Hill, situated to the east of Princes Street, is one of Edinburgh’s most famous viewpoints. Many of the city’s iconic pictures and paintings are captured from this little hill. It holds a special place in my heart, as I’ve witnessed countless beautiful sunsets there with friends. Sometimes, while walking towards Princes Street, we’d change our minds and head to Calton Hill instead. We’d try to snag a bench with the best view, sitting side by side, our legs swinging back and forth like children. We’d complain about endless assignments and readings, share moments of happiness or worry from our lives, and indulge in the latest juicy gossip we’d picked up.
The sunsets were always stunning. Sometimes, they cast a reddish- orange glow, like the morning sun or the gentle flame of a hearth, softly yet majestically crowning Edinburgh. Other times, the sky turned a yellowish- orange, reminiscent of the warm light on a porch welcoming you home after a long journey. My favourite, though, was the rare pink sunset. It was like a little girl in a pink dress with hints of blue, shyly waving goodbye, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
On clear days, Calton Hill attracted a crowd of people, much like my friend and I, drawn by a whim to sit on the benches or sprawl on the grass. Laughter and chatter filled the air, and dogs ran freely – some chasing after balls their humans threw, while others mingled with the crowd, waiting for anyone to pat them on the head and exclaim, “Aww, so cute!”
There was also the famous, unfinished structure that looked like a dilapidated Parthenon. It wasn’t actually in ruins – only half the money had been raised to complete it. Perhaps because of this, most Edinburgh locals showed little reverence for it, turning “how to climb up the 160cm-high platform of the temple” into a popular game. I suspected that my height and biceps wouldn’t allow me to climb up gracefully, so I never tried. Neither did my friend, who always accompanied me to Calton Hill. But we both enjoyed watching others make the attempt. Whenever someone hoisted themselves up, pressing their hands on the top of the platform, swinging a leg over, and effortlessly standing up, we’d clap from a distance, cheering, “10 out of 10!”
3. Deep-fried Mars Bars
Mars Bars, as most know, are a popular sweet treat – a milk chocolate bar filled with caramel and nougat. But leave it to a fish and chips restaurant in Scotland to take this ordinary treat and elevate (or perhaps complicate) it into something new: the deep-fried Mars Bar. The process is straightforward – coat the bar in a thick layer of batter and fry it until it turns a golden brown. Serve it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and voilà, a dessert is born.
When you eat it, the ritual begins. You take a spoonful of ice cream alongside a piece of the battered Mars Bar. The ice cream melts in your mouth, cooling you down. Then, the crunchy fried shell cracks open, and the melted chocolate, caramel and nougat come rushing in. The ice cream softens the overwhelming sweetness of the chocolate and tempers the greasiness of the fried shell. It’s a battle of contrasts – hot and cold, crispy and gooey – all blending together in your mouth.
I’ve tried deep fried Mars bars twice, and yet I remain undecided. Each bite prompted me to analyse its taste as if I were solving a puzzle. One Scottish classmate offered an interesting perspective, saying it tastes best when you’re drunk. Perhaps it’s because, in that state, you’d no longer care to question whether it’s good or bad – you just enjoy it.
4. Bibi’s Bakery
Initially, I proclaimed that Bibi’s Bakery had “the world’s best macaron”. However, not all my friends shared my enthusiasm; some even suggested it didn’t quite live up to the hype. So, I adjusted my approach, saying it was “the best macaron I have ever tasted”. This way, if anyone disagreed, they might simply think of me as a naïve country bumpkin who hadn’t experienced finer things in life. And honestly, I’m quite happy to embrace that persona for the sake of this bakery.
My love for macarons has led me to sample them from various shops. Typically, these tiny delights come in just a few standard flavours – chocolate, vanilla or strawberry. Some shops may boast a wider array of flavours, but in reality, they often taste remarkably similar. The macarons are often lined up inside a glass counter, each with a price tag that boldly declares, “I don’t care if you buy me or not.”
The first time I saw Bibi’s Bakery, I was drawn in by its charm. The shop featured two glass walls showcasing an array of colourful cupcakes and macarons. As I stepped inside, I was mesmerised by the mountains of desserts, only to realise, after a moment, that they were merely models. The real macarons were delicately arranged in glass containers atop the counter, forming charming little pine-cone-shaped piles. Each day offered a different selection of flavours: salted caramel, pistachio, cherry, and my all-time favourite – violet. Each flavour was distinct; even with my eyes closed, I could identify them immediately.
Every macaron was meticulously decorated. Even the simplest designs featured gold or silver sprinkles, all of them cheerfully beckoning, “Hi! How do we look? Do you like us?” And I did! I would buy them in boxes, carrying my precious macarons home at a brisk pace, unable to contain my excitement to devour them.
Many macarons I’d tried in the past were excessively sweet, leaving me unable to eat more than two. But Bibi’s were different. I could easily devour an entire box, seven pieces at a time. What I adored most was the generous layer of filling between the crispy shells, which required a bit of chewing rather than just melting away. Perhaps this wasn’t how “fancy” macarons were meant to taste, but it certainly left me feeling satisfied.
As I write this article, I’ve discovered that Bibi’s Bakery has closed its doors permanently. I’ll never again experience the anticipation, excitement and satisfaction I felt during those monthly visits over my four years in Edinburgh. What remains are these short paragraphs, a bittersweet reminder of those wonderful times. So don’t wait – before another beautiful shop disappears, go visit Edinburgh!
About the author
Zhang Heruijie is a freelance translator and interpreter with a Bachelor’s degree in Linguistics from the University of Edinburgh and a master’s degree in Translation and Interpreting from the University of Bath.
1. 爱丁堡的风
“爱丁堡风很大！”每一个来爱丁堡的朋友都被我警告过，但 “风很大”这三个字并没有起到多大的警示作用，因为还是有一个又一个朋友，前仆后继地坚持在爱丁堡打伞，然后一个个一脸沮 丧地跟我说伞“被风吹跑了”或者“被吹断了”。我很难表示同情，因为我曾经也有那么一把心爱的伞，在爱丁堡的风雨里，过早地结束了它年轻而美丽的生命。我这个非常爱美的人，在来到 爱丁堡两星期后，就彻底放弃了把头发梳整齐再出门的良好习惯，每天随手抓两下长发就坦然走出宿舍，将当天发型的选择权完全交给爱丁堡著名形象设计师——爱丁堡的风。毕竟在这里，“头发像高高扬起的旗帜荡在空中”不是一句比喻，而是满大街可见的 “风景”。
记得刚到爱丁堡的时候，无知且无畏，无视狂风。和朋友结伴出门，那画面简直可以用“悲壮”二字来形容：我在中间，右胳膊紧紧勒着一位朋友的左胳膊，而她右胳膊环着路边一根粗壮的柱子，左脚连带半个身子都抵在柱子后面，左手死命抓着自己的外套，好像只要一松手，这风就会像动画片里一样连皮带外套一起把她吹走，只剩原地一个空空的骨头架子；我的左手则用力拽着另一位朋友，那朋友很瘦弱，在风里踉踉跄跄，风激得她眼里浅浅沁出了一层泪水。她盯着我，我也盯着她，若这是部电影，下一秒她就会撒手，泪眼婆娑地跟我说一句“我们两个总得活一个”，留我在原地看她被这狂风直接从市中心吹到海边。万幸，在如此悲壮地挣扎了半小时后，我们都顺利到达了目的地，人在，衣服和皮也都在。别怕，平时的风还是没有这么狂野，放心来。
2. 卡尔顿山的夕阳
卡尔顿山位于爱丁堡王子街东侧，是爱丁堡的著名地标，与爱丁堡有关的照片和绘画，通常都少不了这座山的风景。
因为在这里和朋友观赏过一次次不同的日落，卡尔顿山在我心里别具一份浪漫。有时候我们会在下午去王子街的路上心血来潮地改变计划，拐弯去卡尔顿山，抢一个视野极佳的长椅，和朋友并肩坐着，像小孩一样前后晃着脚，抱怨写不完的作业和看不完的文献，分享生活里或开心或烦恼的瞬间，还有从别人那里听来的各种八卦。在那里看到的夕阳很美，有时候是偏红的橙色，像朝阳又像火焰，温柔却庄严地环绕着爱丁堡；有时候是偏黄的橙色，像游子归家时在窗外看到的那一抹灯光；但我最喜欢的，还是偶尔出现的粉色夕阳，像是难得一见的小姑娘，穿着蓝色为底粉色扎染的裙子，俏皮地一挥手，眨眼就不见了踪迹。
天气好时，旁边的长椅上和草地上都会坐满和我们一样心血来潮的人，大家都兴高采烈地交谈着，时不时哪里就爆发出一阵巨大的笑声。还有小狗在草地上撒欢，有的心无旁骛地追着主人抛出去的小球，有的则在人群间窜来窜去，就等你摸摸它的头夸一句可爱。
卡尔顿山上还有一个看起来像残破神庙似的建筑，说像是因为实际上当初就建了一半，本来是想复刻一个完整的帕特农神庙，结果就筹到了一半的钱。也许是因着这个历史原因，大部分爱丁堡人对这个建筑都缺乏尊敬，如何爬上最底下高一米六左右的基座已经成为了卡尔顿山的隐藏游玩项目。我预感到我的身高和肱二头肌都不允许我以一个优雅的方式爬上去，所以我迄今未曾尝试。常陪我去卡尔顿山的朋友也没有爬，但我们都喜欢看别人爬。看到手一撑一跳，一条腿就稳稳踩了上去，再一用力就轻松登上基座的人，我们俩就会在远处为那些素不相识的攀登者鼓掌，高呼“10 分！ 10 分！”。
3. “油炸巧克力棒（Deep-fried Mars Bar）”
“火星棒（Mars Bar）”是一种巧克力棒，外部是牛奶巧克力，里面包裹着焦糖和“牛轧糖”夹心。原本它就是一种日常零食，但苏格兰的一家炸鱼薯条店却大胆地决定把它油炸了，就此发明了“油炸巧克力棒”这道甜点。把巧克力棒裹上一层厚厚的淀粉，然后丢进油锅里炸至两面金黄，再配上一个香草味的冰淇淋球，这道美食就完成了。吃它的时候，挖一勺冰淇淋再挖一勺巧克力棒，冰淇淋会先在嘴里化开，随着咀嚼，酥脆的外壳会破裂，流出里面已经融化的巧克力和夹心。冰淇淋巧妙地中和了巧克力的甜腻和外壳的油腻，口腔里冷热交替，所有味道都在拥挤中化成难分难舍的一团。尽管去吃过两次，我也很难确定这道甜点到底好不好吃，坐在店子里每吃一口我都要仔细思索、品评它的风味。一位苏格兰本地的同学曾告诉我，这道甜点最适合喝多了之后去吃，也许是因为就不会思考它到底好不好吃这个问题了吧。
4. 碧碧甜品店（Bibi’s Bakery）
我最初对这家店的推荐语是“这里有全世界最好吃的马卡龙”，但是我的朋友们去品尝之后，并非都喜欢，有人甚至认为这家店虚有其名。于是，我的推荐就改成了“我吃过的最好吃的马卡龙”，这样一来，如果大家不喜欢，通常只会觉得是我没见过什么世面。对，我愿意为了这家店做一个没见过世面的人。
因为好这口儿，我常去不同的甜点店品尝马卡龙。一般的马卡龙大多个头小小的，口味也不多，无非是巧克力、香草或者草莓。而有些店子看似口味多，实际吃起来都是一个味儿。而且，那些单薄的马卡龙总是摆成一排，躺在玻璃柜子里，旁边立着个惊人的价牌，整个氛围便是：爱买不买。
我第一次见到碧碧甜品店时，就被它美丽的店面吸引了，两面落地玻璃橱窗里，摆满了各式各样五颜六色的杯子蛋糕和马卡龙。我走进店里看了又看，才知道橱窗里的是模型。店内的马卡龙就摆在柜子上方，罩在精致的玻璃罩子里，堆成一座马卡龙小山。每一天她们推出的口味都不同：焦糖海盐、椰子、开心果、樱桃，还有我最爱的紫罗兰。每一个味道都很分明，就算是闭着眼吃，也能马上猜出是哪个口味。而且每一块马卡龙都被用心装饰过，有的印着彩色的小鹿，有的印着绿色的圣诞树，就连纯色的也不只是纯色，还撒着一层闪闪的金粉。所有的马卡龙都在大大方方地跟你打招呼：“你好呀！我们漂亮吗？你心动吗？”
我真的为它们心动，我每次一买就是一盒。拿着我心爱的马卡龙，连回家的速度都比平时快不少，迫不及待要大快朵颐。之前我吃过的大部分马卡龙都很甜腻，最多吃上两块儿就感到难以继续，但碧碧家的甜品，一次一盒，一盒七块，不在话下。我格外喜爱的一点，是它们家的马卡龙总有一种厚实的感觉，不是抿两口就化了，而是要实打实地嚼一下。酥脆的外壳配上这样的夹心，好像在嘴里玩一块冰山史莱姆泥。也许这并不是高端马卡龙该有的口感，但总让我吃起来更加满足。
写这篇文章的时候发现，这家店已经永久停业了。那大学四年里每个月的期待、急迫和满足都再无从体验，只能被封存在这段文字里。所以别等待了，在又一家美丽小店消失之前，去爱丁堡看看吧。
作者介绍
张贺睿婕，本科毕业于爱丁堡大学语言学专业，研究生毕业于巴斯大学口笔译专业，自由口笔译员。
Both the Chinese and English editions of Haha! Britain can be purchased at the following bookshops:
Daunt Books Marylebone: 84 Marylebone High Street, London W1U 4QW