Edinburgh is currently, I suspect, divided into two categories of people. The ones that would, maybe already have, and those that no way, never in a million years, no siree Bob, would ever dream of doing it. NEVER.
In one corner, bit pumped up, laughing hysterically to hide their underlying terror are, of course, the thrill-seeking Star Flyers. And in the other, slightly jittery and a bit queasy at the thought of the lifts in Jenners never mind whirling 60 metres above the ground while strapped to a chair, are the rest of us, the ones I call “those who would prefer not to die a horrible, untimely and terrifying death”.
Not that there’s anything likely to go wrong once you’re safely strapped into your Star Flyer chair ready to rise up, up and away on a gut-churning 360 degree spin for a bird’s eye view of the city – assuming, that is, you actually open your eyes long enough to see it. But it does take a certain breed of nutter – apologies – brave soul – to think of it as “fun”.
I imagine the Star Flyer types are also the ones who will also be keen to walk up the Forth Bridge next year. Naked probably. Without any safety gear. Or shoes. Maybe with their first-born in their arms – they’re that annoying gung-ho type.
Meanwhile, feet firmly planted on solid ground, the rest of us will happily wave them off before retreating to the nearest cafe for a hot chocolate – better still, a mulled wine – to plan our retirement and old age, because let’s face it, that’s scary enough.
Naturally, I shall be among the latter. Having in the past been dragged on to several fairground rides that should have carried a “Danger! Risk of plunging to certain and bloody death!” warning, I feel no urge to leave my stomach on the ground while my brain melts with fear above St Andrew Square.
I don’t doubt it’s great – once you’ve picked the bugs out of your eyes, defrosted and wiped your runny nose on your sleeve – to tell people that you’ve seen the roof of the old Scottish Provident building.
Meanwhile, I’ll be spending my £7.50 on something more “grounded”. Gluhwein? Don’t mind if I do . . .