Edinburgh for The Night Owls: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

Mexican street food and mezcal in a loud room off St Andrew Square: share tacos, take a Paloma at the bar and let the night start from there.

A basement with three sets a night, from early jazz to the late funk jam, and a door that stays open until three; cash for the cover.

A hundred-capacity club under the bridges that books bands and DJs the big rooms chase a year later; the sound is better than the paint.

Brunch when you surface: eggs and black pudding, a flat white, and a Stockbridge crowd that will not judge the hour.

A speakeasy behind a barbershop front and a bookcase door, with a serious cocktail list and the Prohibition tune played straight.

A club in the South Bridge vaults, two stone rooms of techno and house; the queue is the warm-up and the floor is damp by two.

Bombay café breakfast until the afternoon: the bacon naan roll, a chai, and the dim Irani-café room to get your eyes working again.

The old port quay at dusk, the signal tower and the pubs along the water; walk it from the Malmaison to the swing bridge and pick one.

Live folk every night in a pub the size of a sitting room; the session downstairs goes on past midnight and nobody is asked to leave.

A greasy spoon behind the Café Royal: a full Scottish with square sausage and tattie scone, builders' tea, the right breakfast for the night before.

A bench below the castle rock by the Ross Fountain for the sun on your face; the floral clock and the trains in the valley do the rest.

A macaroni pie or a steak bridie from the counter, eaten standing, before the tram from St Andrew Square.