After eight hour ride from London, we arrived in Edinburgh around 6:30 in the morning. As soon as we went out to the street of Edinburgh, we were approached by a weird old guy offering us place to stay. I would say go ahead and stayed over his place, but the Hardy boys were not so convinced. The guy, Mr. Gordon, cramped all three of us, and three other youngsters about our age into his little vehicle, and he drove to his home, supposed to be an unregistered hostel. A very good way to start our journey in Edinburgh. Other than Mr. Gordon approach, I was impressed with the city; almost every building we saw was made of stone, but so black and dirty. Mr. Gordon explained how the residue of decades of coal burning polluted
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