Edinburgh. June 15.

This is Lola. She is Paddy (He's a guy. I spent at least 4 years misgendering Paddy - thinking he was Patricia. That's what you get you make assumptions - me = ass) and Catrina's dog. I love her (the dog, but also Catrina). She loves her ball and barking. Nic has known Paddy for at least 35 years, which means BFF for life - like a lot of Nic's friends. I sort of missed that we were going to their house. I was thinking Scotland, and I forgot that Nic knows everyone. (Seriously, we went to a pub in Cambridge and Nic met the woman from "Man Down,"  , not really but she was the woman that the gal in that is based upon, not really, but that's what I imagine, and someone who went to camp with Nic's friend in Colorado. It was weird, but not at all unusual. Anyway, we went to Scotland and we saw more of Nic's friends. 

Can we pause here while I reflect on how gracious and welcoming everyone has been to us? Seriously, people have fed us and housed us and looked after us and advised us. People are amazing. Nic has amazing friends and it has been an honor to meet the people who have been on his journey. And holy shit, he chose to marry me??

I am very lucky.

And Nic knows everyone.

 

We had a lovely walk in Glasgow on Tuesday evening, but Paddy and Catrina advised us to take the train to Edinburgh the next day. Nic has been driving a lot. Driving in England is exhausting. Being a passenger in England is a full contact sport. Speed. Slam on brakes. Whip around round-a-bounds. Speed. Slam on brakes. Repeat. At least 20 times a day everything in the car shoots forward and slams into windshield, walls, seats - whatever. Let me be clear, I do exactly 0% of the driving and as a result this is not a criticism. It is an observation that one might consider being a passenger in the UK as a contact sport. 

Please consider a train if you plan to visit Scotland. That is my advice. Nic is tired. Gas is super expensive and guess what?! It is not even Biden's fault. Gas here is about $9/gallon. NINE DOLLARS. 

I would ride a train if I were you. Also, Trains just show up and you get one and then you can nap on the way home when you are tired.  (I am so grateful that Rob(in) lent us his car).  Nic and I were not satisfied with normal tourist adventures where the train could take you and drop you off. No, we decided to CAMP in Scotland. More on that later. So the car was a must, and when your twin lives in the UK and is super generous you super duper luck out.

Unless you are Nic and have to drive. Or me and you get to ride.

Anyway,  we took the train to Edinburgh on Wednesday. It was glorious. We did not have to pay for parking. (Parking is its own beast. You pay for parking at the grocery store, or on the side or the road, or if you take a piss). We rode the train. We drank in the pubs all day and did not worry. It was glorious.

I should mention here that Nic and I are pretty tired. We have been going 900 miles an hour for months and then we went on this amazing trip to England and we have been going 1000 miles an hour + people I don't know in a country I don't know. I am tired. Nic is tired.

So we took Wednesday pretty easy. We walked around. We sat in two pubs and we shopped and talked and hung out. I really needed it. There was also a pretty amazing castle. 

Here is evidence that the sun has shone on us during this trip and that I have taken off my heavy coat - at least for one day. I am also here to remind you that I have changed my clothes and showered - even if it does not seem like it in my very rogue pictures. 

And beautiful ice cream.

And swords.

And Scots.

And Scots with bagpipes.

And towers to remember writers and a lot of dead people. And a lot of people murdered for their faith.

(Lots of people were hung right here in Haymarket Square).

And whisky.

And churches and cathedrals.

And really interesting and beautiful streets and buildings.

(We may be a little burned out and a little tired and a little overloaded).

And kilts - even for your dogs. I tried to talk Nic into buying this for Charlie. He was not on board at all. 

And cheese.

And Candles. 

Nic walked into a candle store that happened to sell moisturizer, rubbed moisturizer all over himself in front of customers and employees and traumatized the lot. Then we did not buy anything. So there is that. The whole store was staring and then laughing because I about died laughing.

And pigs.

And fake flowers.

And pubs.

The White Hart boasts of being the oldest in town and to have housed many famous folk, including Robert Burns, whose poetry is on the ceiling. Nic says this was his best beer in Scotland. FYI.

And beer.

And Haggis, even vegetarian kind! It was yummy!!

And bangers and mash. Not vegetarian at all.

And wonderful, lifelong friends (who met us back in Glasgow, fed us, wined us, and chatted us up until the wee hours).

Just a few observations from Scotland so far: Edinburgh was the bomb and could easily take a week. Seriously, a super cool place and deserves way more than we could give it. Glasgow - not so much. Nic warned me before we went that Glasgow would be rough. And although the Scots we know and love assured us that it is SOOOO much better than it was, it is still not the cat's meow. 

I have noticed that the general demeanor of the towns and villages have shifted since we have been in Scotland. The villages, towns and homes are more run down, dirtier, less uniformly 'English.' One has the sense that things are harder here in general and specifically right now. The economy in the UK is a bit messy and it is one thing to hear about it in the US, and another to see it. I am thinking about this and probably not articulating it well, but it is my sense that things are somewhat off here in many respect. (Hello COVID), but other things too that are somewhat more political and out of my area of expertise.

Nic and I are lucky to be invited into people's homes and to hear what they say and how they live and what life here really looks like. It has been an honor, and enlightening.

Paddy and Catrina were lovely hosts. I hope they come stateside soon so we can return the favor.

It is late, and we are tired. We slammed into this morning pretty wiped out with a really long drive and camping in front of us. That did not exactly work out. More on that later. I am headed to bed.

Goodnight from Scotland where the days are super duper long and our schedules are whack.

(Did you know lots of people really do eat dinner at 9 or 10 pm? It's insane. I am passing out at the table trying to keep my eyes open. Seriously? It's bedtime, folks. Yet, here we are. And the sun isn't setting until super duper late). Nic and I are exhausted.

But happy, in a messy, dirty suitcase sort of way.