Sylvia's Journal

We are getting used to ‘overcast with sprinkles.’ It’s actually quite like being in Holland. It was a perfect day for planning our next moves. We organized our visit to Glasgow and in doing so found a wonderful blog. We learned about the 10 must see Charles Rennie Mackintosh sites which Axel duly noted in his little book of important things. 

We badly needed a day without walking to give our sore ankles and legs a day off. It meant Epsom salt foot baths, and leg massages (self and other). We therefore drove rather than walked the short distance to the train station to collect our tickets from a machine. The short drive through quiet streets also gave Axel a bit more time to get used to where the gears are (especially the reverse) before we embark on our long trip north to see my friend from long ago who lives near St. Andrews. 

After we picked up our tickets at the train station (by now it was well into the afternoon) we  settled into our favorite café on the Promenade where the wait staff is recognizing us. We were introduced to the only real Scot on the staff (everyone else, including the owner are from other continents). When we told him about our adventure to North Berwick he corrected our pronunciation of the town’s name: there is no ‘w’ in there at all,  it’s ‘berrick’ with lovely soft lilting ‘r’s. 

I sampled the most local hamburger on the menu: a patty of beef topped by a patty of haggis topped by Scottish cheddar (an obvious sign that I stopped worrying about weight), washed away with a pint of local beer.  A great combo!

While Axel kept his seat dry during a series of sprinkles, sketching and watching the activities on the beach, I walked up to High Street to get our dinner at the fishmonger’s. It is the first time we are eating in. We have been very true to our intention to spend all the money we saved (by home swapping and using frequent flyer miles) on eating out. Our fast increasing Amex balance is proof.

When I returned to the seaside it was the cocktail hour. We sampled two varieties of gin, diluted by tonic. There seems to be a huge marketing effort to lure people away from whiskey to gin. One bar we visited had a sign that said ‘Unlearn Whiskey’ with a few gin suggestions underneath.

Back home we chatted by phone and facetime with our British friends from those momentous days long ago in Beirut. There were others in that small community of foreigners who we knew, though didn’t stay in touch with. Some were accidental reporters, others professionals whose voices we still hear now and then on the news. We learned that two of them live nearby, one in Edinburgh and one in Glasgow. Suddenly one more week doesn’t seem all that long anymore.