i+alia [via sco+land] a to z :: o - owl post

j.k. rowling wrote the philosopher's stone in edinburgh. i was unaware until dbr suggested we visit the cafe where rowling sat daily with a cup of coffee until she'd finished that first manuscript. her bio says she had so little then that the folks at the cafe were kind enough to refill her cup at no charge.

so we set out on our second morning to have breakfast there. however, the adventure went a bit 'diagon ally' on us (thanks to the favorite for this "life changing" insight about rowling language play).

we found it so easily.

only to discover that we were in the wrong place. 'you are looking for the elephant house.' we were at elephants and bagels. [????] the cafe keeper sent us on our way. i found that folks in scotland give directions in one of two ways. if they know where something is, they point in the general direction. if not, they seem to point in the direction that you're headed. [????] dbr seemed to understand this, as she stopped to ask folks for directional assurances every three blocks or so. i found this confounding.

we found it by and by.

now, a suggestion based on our experience. do not go to the elephant house for a hot breakfast. it was terrible. the coffee, however, is great. much appreciated in the quagmire of cappuccinos and/or instant coffee that pebbles my path through europa. so, go for coffee and a treat [they looked great too] but not breakfast - overpriced and bland.

and it is definitely worth the visit. our favorite part was the love notes written to harry and rowling and all manner of character on the bathroom walls.

i am reminded that this book series has become a defining moment for a generation, one related, i think to the the explosion of a genre that seeks another kind of world and the power to realize it. i recently read a blog about my age group [those born between 1975 and 1982] as being stuck between Gen X and gen-y/the-millenials. seems we are the in-be-tweeners.

anyway, a link perhaps among these classifications is the rise of post*apocalyptic youth fiction [and reality tv, but don't get me started]. we seem to be struggling to define something - ourselves, our values, meaning - despite the realization of a certain measure of powerlessness. we find ourselves in a very broken world and running low on the resources for trans*formation. so we are fascinated by extremes - blunt reality and fantasy, futility and superpowers, pornographic violence and the utopic. what does it all mean?

no harry potter novel would be complete without some wonder-full episode about the magic of owl post. so we bought some postcards at the elephant house and wandered another diagonal route to the post office. unfortunately, delivery via owl was not on the menu, but who knows what is hidden in between.