"an improbability in edinburgh, a stolid regulars' pub without garnishings of music, artisan beer, craft ciders or quinoa chittlings it is an old fashion affair. which is good on the one hand; lack of anticipation and refinement keep the New Town-Thrillsäkers well away. but on the other side, they do not try to deaf the frosty reception in the front bar, it is like a belhaven gauntlet and none of the septuagenarian homunculuss on the bar will go aside to make her order in comfortable ears of the barman. the rear room has a roaring fire and there is always an affordable dram of the week to drink a solid evening and if literary intrigue is her ding, they probably already know that rebus again his gray materie here, as well as his creative ian rankin."
