Scotland's capital - silent and empty in lockdown

Cities are noisy places. Sirens wail, tourist chatter, buses screech to a halt, groups gather.

It's strange how quickly you get used to the silence. It is as if someone has pressed the mute button on all sound. 

The temporary lull of lockdown has also slowed the pace at which we move.

It has deleted almost everything from our calendars except for one daily burst of exercise, and one trip to the shops.

To walk round Edinburgh is to experience the city in a way that was unimaginable just a month or so ago.

A bike on the side of a pub in Leith

The capitals roads, which cause so many drivers to seethe with rage as they crash into another pothole or contend with yet another changed lay-out, are virtually empty.


Buses run with barely a handful of passengers. The trams are like ghost vessels.


It's possible to stand in the middle of Princes Street or George Street and take a photo without a horn blaring in anger.

Perhaps the most vivid illustration comes at the top of Elm Row where traffic from London Road, Leith Walk and Queen Street all converges.

It's an ugly place in every sense of the word. Roadworks are a permanent feature, and the roundabout is a pitiful bunch of bricks in a circle. What could - and should - be a prominent boulevard has been a mess for far too long.

It's a place where traffic never stops, horns always blare, and the piercing wail of ambulances and fire engines send everyone shunting into the roadside at awkward angles to let them through.

Right now, it's as silent as as a graveyard.

The only  sound is that of the pedestrian crossing whenever anyone bothers to activate it. Few do. Even the green man has been furloughed.

Getting used to the 'new normal' takes time.

Looking up to Picardy Place

It feels strange walking up a deserted Cowgate - a place which teems which noise and bedlam every August when the Fringe breathes life and vitality into buildings locked up for  the rest of the year.

The stillness of the Grassmarket  has temporarily silenced the shriek of the hen parties and removed the stags who barrel out of pubs on their crawl up to the infamous public triangle  - socially distanced lapdancing was never going to catch on, was it?

The silent discos, which are about as silent as a karaoke session, have vanished from the landscape, and the Special Brew drinking club, a regular sight at the foot of Victoria Street, is no more.

Leith's motto

If lockdown has given us one positive, it is the chance to rediscover our towns and cities at a slower pace and with fresh eyes.

Plaques which have been on the walls of historic buildings for generations jump out as if they've just been installed, and vennels and closes stand out more on the empty streets, inviting you to explore them in detail and at your leisure.

The artwork on street corners stands out more vividly. Even bits of grafitti catch the eye.

The Cowgate  

There is so much to see around the capital - a feast of landmarks and curiousities which will fade into the background as soon as the first bus-loads o tourists swarm around Greyfriars Bobby, and then march six abreast up to the Elephant House to be pictured holding their Harry Potter books outside the place where JK Rowling created her wizard hero.

Lockdown is weird and disconcerting, but it is also a unique opportunity to see, and appreciate, everything from a fresh perspective.

And if we can do that on our daily Government sanctioned walk, that can only be good for our own well being.

Waverley Station viewed from Regent Road