I recently turned 28. It’s not as easy to find good things to say about being 28 compared to being 27 (which is the age a surprising amount of rock musicians have died) or 26 (the number of letters in the alphabet). Indeed I read the other day that 28 is the age that people decide to ‘grow up’, whatever that means. I don’t plan on it, to be honest, and while I am content to be 28 and be all grown-up, I’m a taxpayer and I have a pension fund and all that stuff, I also don’t want to completely lose the wide-eyed curiosity that makes my life worth living. So, whenever possible, I look at puddles and wonder at the little circles the raindrops make. I walk on low walls and all these things that adults forget to do sometimes. The biggest one is whenever I am near the Royal Scottish Academy building, which sits at the junction of Hanover Street, Princes Street and the Mound. The RSA is in a fine neoclassical building with pillars and steps at the front. There is a section of pavement between the RSA and the street and to my knowledge I have never walked on it. Each and every single time I am there, I make a point of walking up the steps, under the roof and down at the other side. I could say that it is an excuse to see the fine view up Hanover Street to the statue of George IV. It may also be the case that I might be checking out what art exhibitions are on at the RSA. But that wouldn’t be true. I just like walking up stairs and back down them again. It’s like people do in Philadelphia when they imitate Rocky but it’s in Edinburgh and involves about 12 steps in two stages. I notice other people doing it too, for whatever reason, and it gives me a small tinge of hope about the world. Especially now I’m 28 and old.