For Tash and chrome3d, and any other Alexander McCall Smith readers, here is the real Scotland Street. Needless to say, No. 44 doesn't exist. In the summer months especially, puzzled literary pilgrims can be found combing the street for the elusive No. 44.
It's a short little street. The top end is in the posh New Town. The bottom end has just a hint of the more ordinary Broughton and Canonmills. Just the mix Sandy McCall Smith envisaged.
The red box in the foreground is for kerbside recycling - cardboard in red boxes; paper, glass and aluminium in blue.
The walled-up windows are a relic of the window tax imposed in Edinburgh for several hundred years until the mid 19th century. Rather than pay tax, residents bricked up their windows. Goodness knows it's dark enough here already for 9 months of the year.
This is looking towards the top, New Town end of the street. I'm sure Bertie must have posted a few letters in this post box. Horrible exposure in this shot. I must learn about all this techie camera stuff. As usual, I was in a rush taking these photos. Family in car nearby, pretending they didn't know me. Hungry teenagers after a morning playing in a concert at the National Museum of Scotland. Long-suffering husband. Still, they indulged me.