I was once described by a disgruntled work colleague as a "small-town boy" and told I would never work in the media in London. That wasn't the worst thing he said in that email, by far, but it's a long time ago, and there's no point dwelling on these things. 

However, that message from 20 years ago bounced back into my head on a work trip to London recently.

I've been to London several times already this year, which is more than normal. I chair a policy conference at the QEII Centre at Westminster every December, and my other trips are almost always to the Houses of Parliament to host events - on robotics, healthcare and forestry in the last year or so.

My latest visit was a bit of an outlier - an up-and-back to deliver media training at The Shard with my colleagues Peter Ranscombe and Roddy Scott. It was definitely not a normal Wednesday, but the training went really well and it was great fun to look out at the Thames and the Tower of London and to have the obligatory over-priced pint afterwards (though Edinburgh is very much giving London an overpriced pint run for its money these days).

I love going to London. And yes, I still do feel a little bit like a small-town boy when I do. But I guess I am a small-town boy - a village boy, really, as I grew up in two tiny neighbouring communities in mid-Derbyshire, called Newton and Blackwell. They were in the heart of coal mining territory, although the industry was already in severe decline as I grew up there in the 1970s.

Back then, I went to school, and spent much of my leisure time, four miles away in Alfreton (very much a small town).

After going to university in Manchester and doing a journalism course in Newcastle, I decided big cities weren't for me (I didn't really - I loved both places). But my first jobs took me to daily papers in Middlesbrough and Darlington, before I moved to Scotland after a year travelling.

My family made its home in Musselburgh - a small town, right enough, although it has grown a lot in the 29 years that I've now been here.

Did I ever think about moving to London for work? Not especially - although I was advised that I was good enough to work for 'the nationals', as they were known then, by a former Scotsman editor. 

Was it the fact that the first of my 4 kids was born within a year of me moving up here that made us stay? Possibly - but there were loads of other factors. One is that I have always really loved living in Musselburgh. It's close enough to Edinburgh to enjoy all the great things the city offers, but far enough away to escape the tourist madness (and overpriced pints).

Some of my happiest times are walking our dogs on the beach at Fisherrow, along the River Esk or around the Newhailes Estate - and being in the boat with Eskmuthe Rowing Club. People who know me will appreciate what a massive thing (who said obsession?) coastal rowing has become in my life, and maybe I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't lived in this fantastic small town by the sea.

Much of my working life is spent in my home office in Musselburgh, although I'm in Edinburgh lots, and Glasgow fairly often, and I make those sporadic trips to London. I've also travelled to a wide variety of different locations across the UK already this year - including Wrexham, where I enjoyed the glamour of staying at the Premier Inn next to the football ground. Now there's a small town that's made a name for itself.

Back in the day, I took the small town boy jibe as it was intended - a deep insult. More than two decades later, I'm loving my trips to London (and everywhere else), but I'm happy to embrace being a small town boy at heart.