I'm moving house to this Edinburgh neighbourhood and it's making me nervous

I’m doing the opposite, as proof, I suppose, that I ain’t dead yet. As muckle Samuel McJohnson might have said, ‘tired of Edinburgh, tired of life.”

However, for the last couple of decades, we’ve lived in a nice leafy residential area that’s just outside of the centre.

I wouldn’t say it’s the ‘burbs, definitely not, but I do spend a lot of time riding LRT chariots. I’m always at least five stops away from wherever I need to be.

While we were house hunting, which took a couple of years, we did look even further out.

That’s because it was more affordable, but also, it seemed like what was expected.

We could make our budget go further if we thought about, say, Liberton, Dalkeith, Colinton or Mortonhall, and we even started to consider going beyond to East Lothian, as far as Dunbar or Musselburgh. North Berwick was a bit of a fantasy, until it became more expensive than the Capital.

However, there was a gravity that dragged us back into the epicentre.

I suppose I always felt a bit lost when we viewed suburban-ish homes. What would I do, if I lived there, anyway?

I don’t drive, so it’s not so easy to just whizz about. My husband does have a car, but he does not do lifts on demand. In fact, he only really takes the banger out when we go to Lidl, and, even then, we have to park at the furthest point away from the entrance, so it’s still practically a ten minute walk away.

Thus, if we moved to the middle of nowhere, I’d just be marooned. Although I do generally love getting the bus, while five stops makes me happy, anything over 20 makes me angry.

And then there’s the fact that, apart from when I’m working, I spend very little time indoors.

Unlike my other half, I have never been much of a homebody.

If it’s the weekend, I’m out at 9am, and back at 5pm. I’m always beetling about, and flitting from exercise classes, to cafes and restaurants.

Basically, all the food things, then leaping around to work off the food things.

So, in a few weeks, I am pleased to announce - drum roll - that we’re moving to Leith, and I plan to be the Leithiest Leither in town, bar getting a ‘persevere’ tattoo, though I’m not entirely ruling that out.

Ever since we got the news, I’ve been singing Sunshine on Leith, under my breath.

I don’t know the lyrics, except for the ‘sorrow, sorrow, sorrow’ bit, so it already seems as if I’m a gloomy ghost who’s haunting my soon-to-be-former flat.

Anyway, a recent trip down The Walk really opened my eyes to how trendy the area is these days. It has been for a few years now, but it seems to have ramped up even further.

I’m probably not cool enough to be there, though I have been reassured by the fact that lots of my colleagues at The Scotsman already live in Leith.

And they’re definitely not hip. Quite the contrary. That assuaged my worries, but I might still upgrade my suburban home office workwear game, from Birkenstocks and joggers, to something more groovy. I can always complete the transition by buying a yellow beanie hat and a whippet when I get there.

Or, we can go for the full-on toff look, and say that we’ve arrived in order to complete the gentrification. We will be twirling our moustaches and you’ll hear us coming, as our silver-tipped canes click along the street. Out of our way, riff-raff and urchins.

This is an exciting time for other reasons, too. After a lifetime in the city, this is one Edinburgh postcode that I’ve never inhabited. The closest I’ve ever got was a flat share on Hillside Street back in the Noughties. Other than that, I’ve always been a Southsider.

I haven’t even been on a tram yet. They scare me, a little. I’m not certain how you’re supposed to mount one. Do you jump on, while they’re still moving?

I definitely don’t know how you pay. Someone told me you don’t just tap on, but also you have to tap off, so I’m using the mnemonic of bright red torsos in the summer.

There will be a lot to learn, and I can’t say I’m not nervous about the transition.

I am saying goodbye to the leafy-ness of our current area, and I do like a bit of greenery, though there’s always Leith Links.

When we viewed the new house, the biggest shock was the sudden concentration of Deliveroo drivers, buzzing around like green hornets.

And, as well as the takeaway options, I will go from having one or two local shops, to having a whole batch of them.

My money will be burning a hole in my pockets. It’s the Leith bakeries that have me in their doughy thrall. I will have about four on my doorstep. The nearest will be Twelve Triangles, and I’ve already decided that my Friday treat will be their magnificent millionaire’s shortbread. We will never be without a loaf of their excellent porridge bread.

Or, there’s The Pastry Section on Great Junction Street, with their window of goodies. Or Hobz, for their chesnut-coloured croissants.

Even though I’ve lived in the Capital for almost all of my life, the change in neighbourhood is making me feel like a country bumpkin, who is coming to the big city for the first time.

It’s kind of thrilling.

I’m so ready for shorter bus journeys and new cakes, as I wave cheerio to thoughts of the mid-life ‘burbs.

Read more: “I knew clearing out my Edinburgh flat would be tough, but I didn’t expect it to be so embarrassing”.