Edinburgh city centre was dark and slick with persistent rain as I boarded the X5 bus, a herd of commuters shuffling in behind me. I scanned my National Entitlement Card – the brilliant little slice of plastic that can take you anywhere by bus in Scotland free of charge – and slid into a surprisingly comfortable seat. The rain pattered softly against the windows, almost calming, though the thought of it following me to my destination lingered over me.
The bus trundled east through the city, past Meadowbank and Musselburgh, the landscape softening into open fields and the occasional golf course. When my fellow passengers and I reached Tranent I felt a sudden craving for something salty, but the winding roads soon distracted me from my itch for grease filled sustenance. As we neared Gullane, the rain began to ease. Golfers covered the horizon and I couldn’t help recalling my dad’s voice from years gone past: “Links golf is for golf snobs like your uncle.” Despite not entirely agreeing with that statement, being impartial to playing these extremely well-kept seaside courses from time to time and the part about my uncle being a snob, I have found there to be a certain culture that doesn’t sit well with me.
Pleasantly to my surprise, the bus had beaten the rain to Gullane, still dark clouds loomed. With time to walk around the village before being drenched, the first thing on my agenda was, admittedly, to relieve myself – luckily for me there was a relatively pleasant public toilet close by the bus stop. Feeling lighter, I ducked into the Co-op for a scotch egg and an Irn-Bru – a pairing that felt, in its own way, overtly patriotic.
Walking towards the beach brought a flood of childhood memories; this is where my family often came when I was young—and where my dog’s ashes were scattered. Yet I had never walked this route on foot, always arriving cocooned in my parents’ car. Now, drawn to my surroundings I admired the houses; occasionally sneaking a nosy glance through the windows. When I smiled at a passing group of people that appeared to be locals, they ignored me entirely. Not taking much offence, I pressed on towards the beach.
The tide was creeping in as I reached the “common perennials” – seaside grass – walking over the sand dunes and clumsily shuffling down onto the shore. The beach stretched wide and was pale under the heavy sky, dotted with the odd dog walker and windblown figures. Each time I passed someone, I tried again to start a conversation, a smile, a nod, even a “good afternoon,” trying to be polite and not overreach, but nothing, not one single response, just looks of dismissal. By the time I perched myself at the bottom of one of the dunes – scotch egg in hand – I had decided the people I had encountered were either extremely private or having a bad day. I tore into my snack with such a fury, sipping the Irn-Bru like a man wronged by an entire postcode. Only when an older gentleman called out: “Best be heading now,” as the tide grew closer, I was only able to manage a huffy smile in return.
By the time I trudged back to the main street, my admiration had soured into mild disdain. The grand houses looked smug in their quiet perfection, and the smell of frying fish on the main street lured me to Gullane Super Fry. Walking through the door, not even a second had passed and I was greeted with a: “what can I get for you son” from the man behind the counter. I grinned from cheek to cheek. Finally, a bit of warmth. We chatted on and off for around twenty minutes while locals came and greeted each other with ease. My order was late, but I couldn’t care less. In that chip shop, among the chatter and smell of chippy sauce, Gullane finally felt alive.
Gullane may be known for its sweeping beaches, manicured greens and grand seaside homes but for me, its soul lies in that fish supper. The people who made it, the welcome they offered are what give Gullane its true sole.
Getting to Gullane
Use bus 124 from Princes Street or the X5 from St Andrew’s House: both take about an hour from Edinburgh. If you’re under 22, your National Entitlement Card gets you there for free!
While You’re There
Gullane offers three golf courses, a delightful beach, and the scenic Gullane Circular Walk. The high street has the Cherish Vintage Tearoom and The Old Clubhouse pub, ideal for a pint with a view. The Bonnie Badger Hotel, Bar and Restaurant is also a great option for if you are staying in town and are in need of some good food and drink. The high street also has a handful of clothing shops accompanied with a Co-op.
Image provided by Andrew Read.
