There is something of a cultural myth that Edinburgh and its denizens are not the friendliest natives of the Kingdom of Alba. From the legendary greeting at the front door of "You'll have had your tea?" to my mother's observation that if you were to have a heart attack in Princes Street, they'd just walk around you (as opposed to Glasgow where they ask you "Wherrurye gaun Missus?" if you stop moving and look confused), the natives of the capital are seen as just a trifle.. reserved, shall we say?
Today I found a context where this douce reserve does not apply. The sauna. We all got quite chatty as we sweltered away. Perhaps it's the fact that there is no room for pretension when you are clad only in your best budgie smugglers, but even the lofty souls of Marchmont, Bruntsfield and Morningside become quite loquacious and sociable sans their suits from Gieves and Hawkes and their Academical ties. Perhaps we could restore the Anglican Communion by sticking a mixture of Bishops in a steam room in purple Speedos and wait for them to converse interactively?
Just a thought.