Arbroath autumn: a statue, a glove, a slow walk Guide

What is there to do on a date in Arbroath when you're past sixty and the nights are drawing in? You take a walk, you find a statue, you lose a glove, and if you're lucky, the town does the rest. That's not a plan. That's just how it happened to Margaret and me. And honestly, it's the best kind of dating in Arbroath I can imagine.

A leaf, a statue and a dropped glove

The Robert Burns Statue sits up by the top of the town, and on a bright October afternoon it collects leaves like a coat collects burrs. I was there because I'd walked up to clear my head, not because I'm a man who quotes poetry to strangers. Margaret was there because she'd stopped to tie a shoelace. Then a gust came through, and a glove went skittering across the path like it had somewhere to be.

I caught it. She laughed. We got talking about Burns, then about the weather, then about how neither of us had been up here in years despite living a stone's throw away. There's something about a statue in autumn. The light goes gold, the air bites just enough, and people linger. We lingered for the best part of an hour.

Why the statue works as a first meeting

It's open, it's easy to find, and nobody feels trapped. You can stand there for five minutes or fifty. If the conversation stalls, you've got the leaves and the light and the town below to talk about. If it doesn't, you walk on together. Margaret and I walked on together.

Coffee that runs long at the Meadowbank Inn

We ended up at the Meadowbank Inn for coffee, which is the sort of place where a pot turns into a second pot before you've noticed. We got a table away from the door, out of the draught, and neither of us checked the clock. That's the thing about dating in Arbroath at our age. You stop performing. You just sit and talk and let the afternoon do what it likes.

She told me about her late husband's garden. I told her about my daughter in Dundee. We talked about the town, about how the harbour looks on a grey day, about whether Halloween was worth bothering with now the grandchildren were too old for it. Small things. The right things.

The art of not rushing off

When you're younger, a coffee date has a timer on it. You're both wondering whether to suggest dinner, whether it's too soon, whether you've said too much. At sixty-something, you just order another coffee and see where it goes. The Meadowbank Inn is good for that. Nobody hurries you. The room stays warm. You stay put.

If you want a gentler first step, the same idea works in other towns too. I've read about dating in Cwmbran and it's the same principle. Find a place that doesn't rush you, and let the conversation find its own pace.

One pint at The Old Brewhouse while the town goes dark early

By the time we left the Meadowbank Inn, the light had gone. That's Halloween week for you. The town shuts up shop early and the street lamps come on while you're still deciding what to do next. We decided on one pint at The Old Brewhouse, and one pint turned into the sort of quiet hour where you don't need to fill every silence.

It's a cosy local pub, the kind with low light and a fire that earns its keep in October. We got a corner table. Margaret had a glass of red. I had a pint and regretted nothing. Outside, kids in costumes were being marched round by their parents, and through the window it all looked like a little lantern parade. We watched it from the warm side of the glass. That's the whole trick of a good autumn date. Find the warm side of the glass and stay there.

What to talk about when it goes quiet

You don't have to talk about anything. That's the secret. If you can sit in a pub with someone and be quiet for a minute without wanting to check your phone, that's worth more than an hour of clever conversation. Margaret and I have had plenty of both since. The quiet minutes are the ones I remember.

Halloween week gives you an easy opener, too. Bonfires, costumes, the nights drawing in, whether the town does enough for it. None of it is heavy. All of it is local. If you're thinking about a first meet around Halloween, there's good advice in this piece on dating in Newcastle upon Tyne that translates to Arbroath without much effort.

A quiet pause at Morriatti's, and the walk home neither wants to end

We finished the evening at Morriatti's, which is a memorial and a quiet spot, the sort of place that asks you to slow down. We stood there a while. Neither of us said anything clever. The town was dark and the air had that cold, clean smell it gets in Angus in late October. Margaret put her hand through my arm. I didn't make a joke about it. I'm glad I didn't.

Then came the walk home. You know the walk. The one where you take the long way round without saying so, and the other person doesn't mention it either. We went past the harbour, past the closed shops, past the last of the Halloween decorations. It took twice as long as it needed to. Neither of us wanted it to end.

Why the walk home matters

A date isn't the coffee or the pint or the statue. It's the bit at the end where you both pretend you're not stretching it out. If you're on JustSingleSeniors.com and you're wondering whether to suggest a second meet, watch what happens on the walk home. That'll tell you more than any profile ever could. The site is full of people who understand that. That's rather the point of how it works.

Margaret and I have been on a few walks since. The statue's still there. The leaves have gone. We're already planning a return to The Old Brewhouse when the fire's properly lit. If you're sixty-something, single, and living round here, don't overthink it. Pick a place, pick a time, and let Arbroath do the rest. JustSingleSeniors.com is a good place to start looking for someone to walk home with.

We got to her door and stood there a while, neither of us in a hurry to say goodnight. That's the thing about Arbroath on a dark October evening. It doesn't push you along. It lets a good hour stretch. Margaret said she'd walk the same way next week, just in case the leaves needed clearing again. I told her I might bring a spare glove.

If you're over sixty and single around here, you don't need a grand plan. You need a reason to be out, and someone to be out with. JustSingleSeniors.com is full of people in Angus who'd rather share a slow walk than a fast drink. Join JustSingleSeniors.com today. Your rhythm is waiting.