It is the end of May, and spring is finally seguing into summer. You wouldn’t know this if the last few days are all you had to go by. We have been besieged by a procession of colder weather, rains and strong winds – winds which have caused no small measure of chaos in the highlands so far. Thankfully today the sun is out – almost Lagos-esque in its warmth – and the dull grey granite walls which define this city by their ubiquity already look better thanks to the dash of colour the sun adds.
I am walking down the street, music streaming into my ears and sipping from a coke, whilst taking in the sunshine and appreciating the cornucopia of sleeveless tops, bright colours and open toed sandals which the warm weather has encouraged my fellow pedestrians to adorn themselves with. My destination is a coffee shop just down the road, the objective is to share my lunch break with my friend BB who is in town from London.
When I locate the shop, I find it is spread across two floors of an old building, tucked out of the way from the eye of the casual pedestrian. The ground floor is filled with people sipping coffees and having confectionaries of all sorts all having conversations.
BB and I discuss a myriad of things – drilling cut backs at his company thanks to the new oil taxes in the UK, the paucity of Nigerian work alternatives, the increasing difficulty in getting news about opportunities back there, and his mother. Like me his mother believes he is intent on denying her the grand child she craves; unlike me he’s actually got a Malaysian girl he thinks he’s serious with.
Lunch ends all too soon, it is back to the grind for me, but these city centre lunches are beginning to grow on me.