About Me

I was born in Luton, known for hat making, Vauxhall cars, London Luton Airport and a great football team who once beat Arsenal at Wembley in a Cup Final. I moved to Edinburgh in 1990 and now live in Leith, Edinburgh's 'waterfront'.

Married for 13 years to Louise (who is on day release from Fife), I have 4 children: Holly (aged 17) who lives nearby with her mother Clare, William (aged 16), Alice (aged 12) and Maddie (aged 5).

We live in a 215 year old Georgian house which looks like it hasn't been touched since the day it was built. We once had a note from an artist posted through the letterbox asking if our semi-derelict house was available to rent as studio space.

Current CNPS score: 989


Header Image: Richard Bloomfield

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12seconds Video

Tide of change?

The most expensive bathroom shop in Leith has gone bust.  You know the one, by the Scottish Office with that teak bath in the window.  And the kitchen shop just along the block. David James.

Fascinating to see that even liquidation sales have now gone high-tech.  You can tender for the whole lot online at www.sweeney-kincaid.com.  They’ve photographed every item, stuck a lot number on it and plonked it on the web, e-bay style.  I’m going to bid for the 16.5″ waterproof LCD bathroom TV (with heated screen).  Oh, and a bath, we don’t have one in our house yet (but not the teak one – we’ve got woodworm).

I wonder why they went out of business?  If you think about it, there are very few successful ‘up-market’ shops in Leith.  I reckon that property prices are so high you have no choice but to live with the shite bathroom and kitchen the developer puts in.  Perhaps Harvey Nicks did the right thing when they shunned Ocean Terminal.

We had lunch in the ‘eat yourself stupid for a fiver’ Chinese just along the road in Commercial Street.  Alice and I were the only ones in there.  The owner sat glumly in the window with his chin in his hands while the tons of uneaten buffet baked under the lamps.  Do I sense another Leith business going down the pan?

…and later…

to the local pub, The Port O’Leith Bar, where a lovely 22 year old Polish girl came in and asked for a job.  Mary, the landlady, took her phone number and CV then, after she’d left, she took down a couple of those picture frames full of foreign bank notes (regulars will know what I mean) and proceeded to remove some of the strange notes.  I reckon they were the Polish Zlotych notes to pay her for her first shift.  She doesn’t miss a trick, our Mary.

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