Finding meaning along Edinburgh’s maddest of miles

THE now-defunct News of the World used to boast, from its front page banner for many years: All human life is there.

The same could be written over the mast of the Edinburgh Festival. Anyone who has run the gauntlet of the Royal Mile in August will agree with me.

The famous old castle at the top of the street, overlooking the rest of the city, is besieged by men dressed like Mel Gibson’s Braveheart and characters from shortbread biscuit tins.