May 15th, 2007

Carravaggio

whisky galore

Scunnert and funnert in Scotland (tired and fed up). I knew I'd have to pay for Tuesday. And I did. I did pay. And pay and pay and pay and pay...

Wed wasn't so bad. Sure, the bits of Hampton Court I most wanted to see were closed and it was a shocking miserable day for attempting to wander into the gardens, but that's par for the course, really.

No, it was the trip to the top bit that decided to teach me a lesson. One of them being that Brit Rail sucks. Big time.

Now if somebody had told me I coulda used my ticket on the earlier train which I was there in time for, being a tad OCD re punctuality after a few White Rabbit unhappy experiences this trip (I'm late! I'm late!), I coulda got through, no probs. But noooo.

So, there was a derailment at Newcastle so we all had to bail oout at Darlington and catch a bus to Newcastle. So much for my great rail journey, I moaned to myself. Anyway, despite being told we'd miss the train we made it but...they decided for a want of a guard we'd be 40 mins late, so I missed my next connection.

So I get to Edinburgh and we're yyold to waiting in the recption aera which doesn't exist. Flagging a manny in uniform I get told to take the train on Platform 12 which will take me to Stirling where I can change for a train to Inverness. Only it gets cancelled. So then I get sent to 10 to catch another train to Sterling, only this is up and over and the lifts are out. Of course they are. This train is late and gets held up for half an hour on the way due to a signal failure so I miss the train to Inverness. Wait an hour for the next one which is nearly an hour late itself due to an electrical failure.

Finally get into Inverness at 9pm and the bus that supposed to take us to Thurso has gone, but they call it back and we wait for another train from Glasgow bt there's no one. We started off with about two dozen fellow travellers. Three made it.

Oh, and for the folk who told me it didn't matter that my coat kept me neither dry nor warm so long as it was stylish, try standing outsde a station closer to Oslo than London at 11.30 pm waiting for a taxi. So glad I was stylish. Yes, that is a hint of sarcasm you detect in my voice. Had to but a new coat. Cost me £40 and worth every cent so far.

Ayway, I love my rellies up there and they made me feel right at home and very welcome and I didn't spend a moment sober as we started at the distillery at the top of the hill and it was, literally, downhill from there :)
  • Current Mood
    frustrated frustrated
Carravaggio

Living next door to Liz

So, the trip back down was somewat less complicated, by comparison. Briefly stopped over at my Coz's to see the new baby. To quote from Ghostbusters: he slimmed me. There's a few tops into the wash. The other boys are lovely, though they took me to task for talking down to them. Sory, too used to talking to my managers or British rail folk. It was also a jolly good investment sending them over the choccies as I was their fave person before I arrived. Score one for bribery ad corruption. Oh, my other wee man up north is also lovely and I gave him a cras course in writing fic. Is no one safe from my corrupting influence? Sort answer: no.

Am now with the other rels in Ballater and it's damn frosty, I can tell you, and I don't just mean the weather. Not even the OMG £££ bottle of scotch has eased my passage. Ah well, found anet cafe and posted home some magazines from the local newsagent.

Speaking of which, re the idle curse I made at the wee Roman grotto, feeling petulant, peevish (well, he should have made an appearance, I guessed pretty right re stalking - heh) and not wanting to be he only one with a busted ankle in budapest, well, I forgot I have Pullo's affinity for idle curses and, well, sorry. So effing sorry. Really effing sorry.

But *I'm* getting back to hobbling around fine now, as a few hotwater bottles have done wonders. Can see where I cracked it now though. Ow. Gotta watch where I'm going and not nearly t-bone pretty Brit boys, especially in cheap Chinese shoes (skid, prang, much swearing in my new Austrian swearwords I picked up at the station in Wien).

Note to self: forget the fancy tops, keep the hot water bottle and spare jeans - essential kit.

Tourist wise, seen Victoria's loo at Ballater station, so that's my travels complete.
lom wall

we don't go to Nottingham

So here I am at my Uncle's new place. It's nice, and the scenery is to die for (it reminds me a lot of Washington), but I still miss Nottingham. Lots. But shsssh, that's just between you and me. Prolly just as well, or I'd be muttering (still) over my usual counter lunch at the Trip.

Anyways, afternoon picked up and I was flogged along a walk through Balmoral (or toddle-bonnie as they say up north). I think that's enough penance for past malicious fancies, as my ankle was sore, the wind was biting (for this child of the tropics, anyway) and my Uncle, just like my brother, funnily enough, is an over the hills and far away while you're still huffing away kinda chap. The scenery though, oh my. Herds and herds of deer down by the river, enormous mountains, a loch shining silver in the misty distance. Oooh! (if you've seen The Queen or Mrs Brown then you've seen what I was being marched through). Hee.

And I'm promised a castle. Maybe tomorrow. :)
I don't deserve this, I know it, but I'm having it, anyway.