GLIDING serenely through the streets of the capital city, a government limousine is ferrying the First Minister to her latest Festival gig.

Nicola Sturgeon has never had to worry about navigating pothole-ridden roads, as she can’t drive, so leaves that task to her chauffeurs.

Nor does she bother with trains, which is just as well given they rarely seem to run these days, though of course she might consider a stroll.

After all, she’s based in the middle of Edinburgh and is keen to promote a greener way of life — but the air-conditioned sanctuary of the limo is tough to beat.

As she made her way to her latest event last night — a chat with actor and independence supporter Brian Cox — her journey would have been marred by mountains of stinking rubbish.

Her own street was free of this festering blight — as the rubbish at Bute House, the First Minister’s official residence, is picked up by a private contractor, while the rest of the city drowns in mouldering waste.

The sight of a politician earning more than £160,000 a year (no need to sweat about those energy bills) being chauffeured through these dystopian scenes is a fitting visual metaphor for the Sturgeon regime, almost a decade after her appointment.