micetrail

Sitting here at the bus station heading from Bilbao to San Sebastián. Thought I’d leave plenty of time to get tickets, etc. I tried the machines first and saw that the next one was at 5pm. It’s now noon. So, no that doesn’t jibe with my “research.” There’s supposed to be one every hour. Luckily there’s a puce-jacketed helper who tells me that there are other bus lines. Just go to the 2nd window and ask there. Whew!

OK, the gentleman there is very helpful and asks me when I want to go. Next One, yes! As he prints out the ticket he says 12:30. Great, that’s only 1/2 hour from now. I head down to the bus slots and see which one goes at 12:30. It says #2. I get in line. However the bus destination says Bergara. Well…I’m thinking that Bergara is further south but they probably stop in San Sebastián on the way. There aren’t very many people in line. So, 12:15 rolls around and I decide I’d better ask someone. I check with another bus driver who looks at my ticket and he says, whoops, you’re ticket is for Noon. And you missed the bus. I look at my ticket and it says 12:30. No, he says, that’s what you paid. 12.30 euros. The bus time is in smaller print below and lo and behold says 12:00 (Noon).

What a doofus. I’m always advising people to check and recheck and ask again but no, I’ve got it all planned and researched. It turns out my research was fine…there is a bus every hour. But in getting there early and having trouble with the ticket machine it put me in a bit of a panic and I just rushed off. It’s like when I was in Frankfurt and a fellow traveler told me what gate my connection was leaving from. It turned out the gate was right next door to where I de-planed. Just can’t learn, can I?

Anyway, I’m on the 1:00pm bus. The ticket vendor thought it was pretty funny that I confused the amount with the time. Ha Ha.

My home away from home. Finally feeling that I can unpack before I have to repack. Funny thing is I have to work around my rentals so now I’m off to Coimbra for a few days while my place is rented. The good thing is that it gets me moving again and seeing more of Portugal.

Took the elevador (funicular) from Bairro Alto to the metro to the train station. All pretty seamless except for the obligatory crazy man on the metro. I did understand a few words: puta, buca. Other than that he seemed to be ranting at an unseen person. Harmless, though.

I’ve been pretty lazy here in Lisbon this time. Doing some minimal shopping for household stuff and sandals and yes, another suitcase. This time a little tiny rolly bag which I have now for my three days in Coimbra. Watching TV “news entertainment” (yes, you read that right), bingeing on Outlander now that I’ve been to Scotland and reading some historical fiction based on Filipa, the only queen of Portugal that was English…the mother of Henry the Navigator (Henrique), Afonso, Duarte, etc., what they call the Illustrious Generation. The book’s translation leaves a little to be desired but it does cover a number of Portuguese venues that I’m anxious to visit…one of which is Coimbra.

(Side note) A little caution, instruction, or whatnot about keeping in contact. I decided this time not to get an international package from my cell phone provider. Instead I’m relying on WiFi and WhatsApp. I’ve been on the road since the beginning of May and have managed so far. It seems WiFi is everywhere. And I’ve found that if you use Google Maps to set your next location, the route stays on your phone while your are moving from point A to point B. Very cool. It’s not perfect and if you change your destination midstream it won’t find it without WiFi. Oh yes, you should download the local map when you have a chance on WiFi..

OK, back to moving on. On the train and two stops later: Whoops, I’m in the wrong seat, the wrong carriage. Whoops, someone got on and has my seat. Little did I know that they were assigned. In England, it was a free for all. Luckily for me, it was just the next carriage. And…Someone is sitting in my seat by the window but the aisle seat is open…so guess I won’t kick her out. She’s totally ignoring me…something I would do.

And now, I’ve missed my stop. My oh my…just not paying attention and no announcements on the train. The conductor was quite amused when he checked my ticket and told me I had just missed the station. About an hour later I was able to get back from the next station to Coimbra-B. Pay Attention!

Finally getting off at Coimbra-B and transferring to Coimbra (A–but not called that) is the only way by train to get there. It takes 3 minutes to get from B to A and could be walked without baggage. Just note that the train schedules show times from Coimbra-B, so one has to account for the trip from A to B, particularly on the return.

It’s hot as hell here too…I just can’t get away from this weather. Forgetting to load the location of my next stay into Google Maps and not having WiFi at the station, I head to the nearest cafe and tune in there. My stay is a 2 minute walk and a 2 floor walk up. Not bad. A crazy-looking room but totally fine. It’s not a decor I would pick but it was a good-size room and well-equipped.

Muséo de la Ciudad – a wonderful collection and well-organized

Definitely make Coimbra a stop if you’re heading to Portugal. It’s a mini-Lisbon. Lots of music in the streets during the summer and some must-see venues. Particularly the oldest University in Europe with its wonderful library (AND illuminated manuscripts!!) and a couple of monasteries. Managed to sneak into a wedding. Sweet. Also, an excellent museum celebrating its 100th anniversary…from Roman days to current days. Plenty to do in 3 days. Also had a tasty meal at Passeite, a tiny restaurant making everything with olive oil. Yummm.

I’m a sucker for ruins and the Monasterio de Santa Clara-a-Velha (old) has a great presentation of the the monastery being dedicated to the Poor Clare sisters. The monastery was founded in 1280 and the founder, Mor Dias, was excommunicated later. The convent was dissolved in 1311 and refounded by Queen Isabel (Elizabeth) in 1314. Isabel died and was buried in 1336 in the church in an amazing tomb

but after being repeatedly flooded by the Mondego River a “new” (Nova) monastery was built in the 17th century and her remains were moved up hill.

Definitely worth a visit if you’re into ruins, as the convent and grounds were uncovered in the 60’s. That’s 1960 btw.

Well, it happened again. Taxis for Trump. Now this fellow (and it was a fellow) was from Bulgaria where, he said, they had ruined his country. He had been in Isle of Man for 4 1/2 years and would never return to Bulgaria. I neglected to ask him if he would migrate to Russia under Putin. Lost opportunity!

Driving taxis wasn’t his goal and he had applied to the University here to get his degree in IT. His commentary went on for the length of our 10 minute drive from the ferry. He was definitely a Trump guy and realized he couldn’t vote but that Trump was “good” for his people. Obama was weak; Hillary was a Communist, Trump was strong. Where did he get his information? Yes, you guessed it, the World Wide Web. He overcharged me on the taxi ride, going the long way around as it turned out. Might have known…those Bulgarian guys…Ha.

I wished him well with his education and hoped he learned something about politics. He took the comment well…and scoffed.

It just goes to show you that people stay in their corners no matter what. There’s no consideration of another point of view. We are in our tribes/cults…whatever. An excellent opinion piece in the Guardian says it better than I. The Death of Truth…, July 14, 2018.

Let it Be, Let it Be. Off to Liverpool.

Great luck with seeing Mark Rylance and Andre Holland in Othello at the Globe. Standing in the Returns line for about an hour, a young woman came up and sold me a single gallery ticket for 20 euros. It was opening night, so this was amazing luck to actually have a seat.

It was a fantastic performance as you can imagine. Earlier that day, assuming I wouldn’t be able to get a ticket for Othello, I stood in line for and hour for the matinee of Hamlet. And I got one of those as well. It was for the floor and one has to stand up (NO Sitting!) for the whole 2 1/2 hours, with intermission. That cost me only 5 euros and was well worth it. A great production. I managed the whole day (5 hours + 2 hours in line) and was very thankful that I was able to have a seat during Othello.

The night before I went to see The Book of Mormon which is quite hilarious as long as you’re not religious. It’s a mockery of all religions as I saw but, of course, mostly The Church of the Latter Day Saints. Some very clever wordplay but a little too many poop songs for my taste.

Of course, I went to the British Library so I could view the manuscripts that we had discussed at Oxford. And the British Museum and the V&A Museum. All terrific. I didn’t run across any great restaurants in the five days I was there but I really wasn’t looking for a food scene. And I was spoiled in Scotland last month.

Going home…to Lisbon, that is. Stay tuned. My traveling year isn’t over yet.

It’s been awhile and my traveling “jones” hasn’t diminished. Yes, there are times when I wish I were in my home turf and having my daily mocha at Peet’s. But those times are fleeting and when I get to a destination, my interests are piqued.

Heading from the Isle of Man (via ferry) through Liverpool to Bath (via train) worked just fine other than lugging my luggage. Porters and Service peeps were a great help. At one station, the lift (elevator) was out and the wonderful service rep took my bag up the stairs. Very nice. The ferry checked bags so I didn’t have to lug them around. My plight of luggage had exponentially increased since leaving Edinburgh. I had checked a bag at the train station there prior to my Scotland tour but now had it in hand…so to speak.

Taking a taxi from the ferry to the train station worked well. From there I had only two train changes, so not bad. Pretty much on time except for the final leg to Bath which was delayed.

Being my first time in Bath, I wasn’t sure what to expect. All I had heard about was the Roman baths. Thought I could don my toga or less and sit in the warm water for hours on end. Not a chance. The Roman bath is a museum. It is quite an excellent museum with a wonderful audio tour of the Baths and immersion in a different way. I spent three hours as I just had to hear everything on the audio player. It was comprehensive with video and history displays to boot.

OK. Not that inviting.

I was also able to attend two plays: An Ideal Husband (Oscar Wilde) and Henry V (uhhh…Shakespeare). I left the former at half-time, as I was pretty far back in the theatre and had a difficult time hearing all the nuances of the script. Henry V was excellent. It was quite a small theatre and a brought you right into the action with about 10 actors playing multiple parts. Creative staging, lighting and costumes.

I did also manage a thermal bath. Using the same therms that the Roman baths were privy to, there is a touristy Thermae Baths where you can soak in the water with many other very clean people…OK, it’s chlorinated slightly. There are no really hot baths but some warmish baths, steam room, “sauna” and some quite cold baths including an ice bath of sorts. I tried them all in the allotted 2 hours, of course. Swimsuits must be worn…and co-ed showers. Didn’t see any nudes except for the statues.

Next Stop: Oxford

I had signed up for an OSSA (Oxford Summer School for Adults) a couple of months ago. I was on the waitlist for awhile but a course opened up on Illuminated Manuscripts. Whaaaaat? The summer school is very popular and the courses fill up fast. So I was pretty lucky. What a great experience! After I got over the fact I had to submit a 1000 word essay and was informed that another 1500 word essay would be part of the course, I had my doubts. But, of course, it brought out my competitive spirit and certainly made the course more than just a lark. And I’m enchanted with Illuminated Manuscripts now. The lecturer/instructor was wonderful…Victoria Condie…have to give her a plug. What a delightful and erudite person. I found myself just shaking my head at times fascinated at her knowledge, her asides, and her dedication of the Medieval period. Next year she’s presenting a course on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. I bet I’ve whetted your appetite now. I actually saw the manuscript at the British Library. Amazing!

Such an interesting group of students (10) in my course. Six out of the ten were from the States which was a surprise. A very eclectic group.It was quite difficult to hide but very comfortable to participate. And now I’m on the hunt to review as many illuminated manuscripts around the world as possible. As if I need another reason to travel.

But Oxford was very HOT when I visited. It’s been a theme in my travels since May. I could have brought two pairs of shorts, flip flops and a swimming suit and been just fine. A bit of exaggeration but you get my point. I stayed in a “dorm.” It happened to be on the top (3rd) floor of the building with no a/c. A small fan was furnished. The classroom was hot, hot, hot as well. But it was all worthwhile.

I also attended a play: Loves Labors Lost. It was outside and the only day we got a substantial downpour. Everyone ran for the trees and they postponed the play for about 15 minutes. Quite comedic. Very Shakespearean.

I loved walking around Oxford and seeing venues from Inspector Morse and Lewis, Harry Potter, Brideshead Revisited (remember that?) and untold other movies/TV shows. It’s a bit of a rarefied atmosphere with all the colleges I’ve only heard about: Trinity, Exeter, Queens, etc. Coeds flying around on their bikes, hanging around the quads, drinking beer at the numerous pubs.

I recommend it highly. Check out the courses for next summer:

http://www.conted.ox.ac.uk/summer-schools

Sitting here with a glass of wine in London waiting for a flight to Lisbon and realized it’s been awhile since I’ve updated you.  

A bit of advice:  you need an ongoing ticket out of the Schengen area if you want to head to Lisbon or, I assume, other countries in the Schengen area.  Now y’all probably know about the Schengen area vs. the European Union.  No?  Well, the UK is in the European Union (until 2019, that is) but is not in the Schengen area.  You can only stay in the Schengen area for 90 days if you are not a resident or citizen of the EU.  Now, not all of the Schengen area is in the EU and not all of the EU is in the Schengen area.  Clear now?  Just be sure to have an ongoing ticket (within 90 days) if you are headed to a Schengen country.  Google “Schengen Countries” for help.

Wikipedia says:  The Schengen Area is an area comprising 26 European states that have officially abolished passport and all other types of border control at their mutual borders.

So…I had to purchase an ongoing ticket to get out of London.  Lucky for me, I arrived early and was able to purchase an online ticket that leaves Lisbon within the 90 day window.  I suggested they just trust me…but no dice.  Guess my reputation precedes me.  They do input the ongoing information into your record so no pleas (or please) accepted.

Well, you know how much I love kids. I’ve found myself in the kids section of the ferry…the only seats left on the damn boat. I just wasn’t aware it was so popular but I am going to the Isle of Man and it is summer time, so I guess it makes sense.

Another complaint…oh, did I tell you how much I love kids?…is they want to charge for their “free” WiFi. You can use it without the internet but what the heck does that mean? So 3+ hours of being disconnected. Time for contemplation and some thoughts/comments I’ve been mulling over the last couple of weeks in Scotland…and England.

Aside: my taxi ride to the port to catch the Heysham ferry to Isle of Man was interesting to say the least. The driver was very willing to give me his thoughts on the situation in Britain concerning Brexit and government, etc. Brexit: get on with it; everyone voted for it so let’s honor democracy. He definitely doesn’t trust the news; gets his information primarily from the internet. Bully for him. Oh yes, he did ask me if Barack Obama was really Barry Somebody and born in Kenya. I assured him that was true…just kidding. We also had a short conversation about Hillary and how she lost. He didn’t realize how hated she was based on the news (or rather, blogs) that he read. Now, this taxi driver was a former cop (don’t know if that’s fake information or not) and told me that because he had been trained to observe and not jump to conclusions he wasn’t full bore conspiracy. Hmmmm…

Back on the ferry: While I’m at it, for anyone who has done any sailing, the “rule” of “red, right, returning” that every sailor has learned in the Western Hemisphere has been put to shambles here in Europe/Great Britain. It’s “green, right, returning” which has none of the alliteration and ease of recall that RRR has. My sailing experience is minimal, other than nearly dying sailing up the coast of California in a gale…but I do know this rule from my sailing classes and subsequent experience. There’s a fine and funny article in Cruising World: https://www.cruisingworld.com/red-right-returning that explains what the rules are in Area A and Area B. As he mentions in the article: port wine is red and therefore red should be on the port side, see?

OK, enough of that. Here’s some observations (nasty and otherwise) I’ve made on my travels in Scotland: definitely a positive…if you haven’t been, it is a delight. I had a travel agency (McKinley & Kidd) plan out my two weeks and they have been spot on. Every stop had a driver picking me up and delivering me to a delightful B&B (except for one) and then picking me up in time for the next train. I stayed 2 days in each place which seemed short but worked out just fine. (I left my larger suitcase in Edinburgh before I started this journey into the Highlands). I had some fabulous meals…some at the Inns I stayed at, others recommended. Now, I’m a walker so Scotland is a paradise for people on foot…or bicycle. It’s also beautiful and has some very interesting geology, architecture and history so fine to just tour around as well.

I had to use the phrase “well done” to the bus driver after I heard one of the travelers say “well done Jules” when he alighted. I did this after the bus driver stood up and announced that the had to swing around for the school kids so there would be a wait but we would be on our way after that. He continued “you’ll get to see the Caledonia Canal after, as we have to take the long route to drop the kids off”. The trip took a bit longer than going, but was definitely worth it! Well done, Jules! He did drive like a madman on these tiny roads and a couple of times had to swear (politely) when some car came around the corner…or worse yet, some damn lumber truck. Close your eyes.

Riding along in the bus: a tiny electronic lawn mower working on a huge lawn, unattended. You have to look closely but that little machine in the background is the mower.

Very funny.

Two men chatting beside me: what language are they speaking…Gaelic it turns out.

Waiting for the bus from Spean Bridge: a “witchy” woman pops along to wait with me, coughs several times, and sticks a cigarette in her mouth.

Even the damn Germans think I’m German. They keep coming up to me to answer a question. Nein sprechen zee Deutch!!! I think that being tattooed man recognizes me.

Sign: clean up after your dog or “pick up” a 40 pound fine.

A sign for me:

Or this:

And, if all else fails:

Well…this was in a restroom in Fort William

From Skye, a boat trip to the Isle of Eigg, I decided to stay at the first village (if you can call it that) of Aisling and not go to Muck…although I really wanted to…you know,…muck around. Instead I did some hiking on the paths just so I could say I’d been to Eigg. According to Wikipedia, it’s called Eigg because it comes from Gaelic “eig” meaning “notch” or Norse “egg” meaning “a sharp edge on a mountain”. It does have an egg-like volcanic plug or some such thing from the island being volcanic eons ago. So I think it’s just a damn egg origin.

I am happiest when I’m on the move. The train provides me some time to let down. It also has WiFi and USB power…this is Scottrain by the way. Great. The tour provider always had me sitting in a “facing” seat and the most visually pleasing side…if there is such a thing in Scotland. From Portree (skip breakfast here…they can only cook eggs hard) I took the ferry back to the “Mainland” and a train to Inverness.

So peaceful traveling across country in the train. From Skye which is actually attached to the mainland by a bridge (who knew) the journey goes along a lock for sometime and then turns inland with lovely small lakes (whoops, lochs) reflecting the skies and hills. Great blue herons, shorebirds, cows, sheep…all pretty lazy. Zzzzzzzz.

Not far from my lodging in Inverness, which was about a 10 minute walk to the center, there is a lovely theatre complex which had pop-up performances of all sorts going on in the afternoon. When sitting down and having a glass of wine, I overheard the woman sitting next to me telling her mate that she was off to London for Wimbledon, then heading to Santo Domingo, then to NY. She was also attending a filming the BBC was doing there in Inverness…evidently had been invited. Puts me to shame. She was dressed pretty “trashily” in my opinion and I had made a quick judgement. Now, with the travel commentary, my opinion went up several notches. Bad girl.

After Inverness, headed to Thurso, the uppermost end of the British Isles. Going out for a walk and a bit windy and cool, there are two wee girls running around in the surf with their innertubes. Yes, I know it’s summertime but I’m yearning for long johns. BTW, an amazing restaurant (Captain’s Galley) serving seafood very near the ferry terminal and just down the road from where I stayed. Shellfish platter to die for. A new waitress was being trained and it was her first day. She was so nervous serving me the amuse bouche of seafood bisque, that she tried to put the entire tray down at my place setting. Pretty cute…she was embarrassed but recovered nicely. I was being good.

Didn’t realize I was going to Orkney until a few days before. It was definitely worth it even for a quick day trip. I had a wonderful guide (Lorna) who met me at the ferry and ferried me around the island, stopping at the stone circles and the Neolithic settlement that had been discovered not so long ago. They are continually finding other settlements and we visited one that archaeologists are currently working at uncovering.

Note: on the trip over there was a young woman with either Tourette’s or some disability that was being accompanied and she called out periodically, sounding much like a seagull. It seems her whole family was taking her on this trip…it must have been difficult. I see so many people with disabilities making a go of it. It is heartwarming and disturbing at the same time.

Be aware: on the trains occasionally the announcements were a station behind. Just have to stay awake. And twice my reserved seat was taken…so rather than insisting (as I was in a good mood), I found another seat. Although it was facing backwards usually. On one occasion there were two buddies who had been cycling around Scotland in 10 days……they were doing Airbnb reviews. Ha.

Kingussie in the Cairngorms: I stayed just for one night and evidently it was for the excellent dinner they served. A Michelin starred chef. I did manage a walk to the Ruthven Barracks which played a part in…you guessed it…the Jacobite rebellion.

At The Cross (the Inn and restaurant in Kingussie) the waiter was Russian or Eastern European. It seems that many of these more up-scale eating establishments employ foreigners. Interesting.

This is getting too long. Continued in a subsequent blog…maybe. I’m definitely cleaning up my commentary here and not putting in all the nasty comments I promised.

When I thought of Scotland my reveries turned to the Highlands and kilts, bagpipes, rolling hills, misty mountains. Little did I consider food. Well…myohmy was I mistaken. I’m sitting here at the Cross in Kingussie, a sleepy village north of Edinburgh having just finished an amazing repast.

This is what I would say is my 4th gourmet meal in my 10 days (so far) in Scotland. You could definitely do a food tour here. No pics of Scorrybreac in Portree (Isle of Skye) where I had the most delicious venison…maybe I mentioned that in another post. Also, an excellent Sea Bream in Inverness at Mustard Seed…doesn’t photograph well. 😉

1) the restaurant Old Spean Bridge

2) Captains Galley in Thurso

Shellfish cooked to perfection

3) the Cross in Kingussie

Scotland beef

On another note is the weather. Now, everyone says this is highly unusual. Since I’ve been in Scotland I’ve had 65-75 degree weather. No rain to speak of. I had to buy cooler 😎 clothes including shorts just to survive.

My tour is coming to an end. Just three more nights and I’m moving south.

A side note: Do people have to partner with someone dummer to make them feel important? It’s not the Jet Stream that makes it warmer, it’s the Gulf Stream…darling. Or is it that the partner just shuts up and lets them feel superior and in control?

Accepting wagers.

So far the agents I booked my Scotland tour with have been spot-on. Every little train trip I take has me facing the “right” way. However, on this leg back down to Inverness, I’m sitting backwards. Not because they erred but because there’s a woman sitting right next to me and I’ve decided to sit backwards instead of having to elbow it with her. I know it’s psychosomatic but I do feel a little out of sorts seeing the landscape zoom by and seeing where I’ve been rather than where I’m going. At least it’s on the same route I had coming up. Waahhhhh!

Thurso is a little sleepy brown town (they all are brown, by the way) at the northern tip of the “mainland”. Again, I was picked up on schedule and delivered to my lodging…a sweet little B&B serving the usual Scottish breakfast (except no haggis, thank god). Next day, headed to Orkney on the Ferry from Scrabner to Stromness which I realized at some point was Orkney. Who knew? Past the “Old Man of Hoy”.

BTW the Orkenians named their largest island the mainland.

Picked up by Lorna (See-Orkney tours) for a private tour of Orkney with visits to Scara Brae (Neolithic village). It’s like a warren with the stone huts connected by tunnels and reminded me of The Buried Giant by Ishiguro…a haunting and thought-provoking book.

Then on to some other 5000 year-old stone circles (eat your heart out Stonehenge). Some archaeologists were working on the site.

The St. Magnus Cathedral in Kirkwall is quite impressive and has a wonderful tale to tell about his life, demise, canonization…and his and his nephew’s (who founded the Cathedral in 1137) remains being found in hidden cavities in two different columns of the church.

The Orkenians think of themselves independent from Scotland who themselves think themselves independent…from Great Britain. Orkney identifies more with Norway and the Vikings (ala Magnus) then it does with the Scots.

A whole gaggle of girls just embarked on the train. Heading to Inverness I imagine and a wild weekend! They are enjoying themselves…it’s Saturday. Cackle, yuck, cackle. It is a bit annoying…oh, there goes a few people moving to the next car.

Why do people ooh and aah when they see a baby, a dog, a horse? What little neuron and/or chemical controls that reaction? Fields roll by, wheat spools, sheep,cows, sheep, lambkins, sheep, wheat spools, standing stones, stone tonsured hills, stone walls, grass, pine trees, sheep, sheep, horses, sheep.

OK. Here go the earphones on.

Heading up to Thurso from Inverness where I had a good stay at a B&B ten minutes walk to the center. A sweet little place and a bit more room than my Skye retreat in Portree. Inverness seems to be a mini-Edinburgh. Very manageable. I took a local bus out to the Culloden Battlefield where they had a great audio tour and presentation of what went on there in 1746…the final Jacobite battle where 1500 Jacobites were killed and 300 Britishers. I’ve always wondered why they were called Jacobites. You probably know this but Jacobus is the Latin for James. And it was James Stewart they wanted back on the thrown. His descendent “Bonny Prince Charles” spent some time trying to reclaim the thrown, all for nought. He died on the continent a sad sorry alcoholic. Happens to the best of us…the alcohol, that is. There was an eclectic group of people touring the site with their audio guides. Very interesting observing and being observed.

Here’s a good place to interject that American women traveling solo (the only ones that seem to travel alone) are pretty eccentric. Whoops, who’s looking in the mirror? Present company excepted. I met one woman going out to the battlefields on the bus and though I resisted talking as is my usual mode, she insisted on telling me how the bus driver told her the wrong information and she had to wait for another bus…seemed very put out.

And then I was sitting alone (is there any other way?) at the Mustard Seed in Inverness having a pretty good darn meal when they seated a woman at the adjacent table. It’s a trend. Anyway, she turned out to be from the Marshall Islands by way of Iowa and had been teaching in the Marshall’s for 18 years. Seemed nice but every once in a while she went into a reverie and sort of lost it with how excited she was to be traveling…she said this was the trip of her lifetime. It was pretty sweet and, of course, I helped her document the event. I was on my best behavior.

There are some lovely walks along the River Ness which runs through Inverness and, as you guessed, is an outlet for Loch Ness.

Oh yes, here I’m interjecting a church graveyard where, after they imprisoned the rebel Jacobites in the church, took them out and executed them. There are even two stones lined up which, it is said, were used to line up the musket with the prisoner. Nice use for a churchyard. By the way, it’s not a Catholic Church. And it is along the River Ness.I managed a boat trip (yes, Jacobite cruises!)

out to the Loch and to Urquhart Castle. I had bought my ticket the day before and boarded just fine. However in disembarking I was asked for my yellow pass. No yellow pass. I’m sure this has never happened before…no, no. Well, they let me off without the pass and then on the return had to go through the whole rigamarole again. It was a lovely trip though and a lovely day. Lots of climbing at Urquhart…just can’t get away from that in Scotland.

I had a chat with an Irish woman (living in Scotland) who was on the boat (Jacobite cruises!) who was taking the Contemplative Cruise – that is, you sit on your can on the trip up to the Castle and likewise on the way back. She asked a lot of questions and gave a lot of answers. Not too contemplative. I, of course, took the Discovery Cruise which included climbing around the castle and busing back.

Speaking with ‘what’s her name” I felt like it was an episode of an English soap opera. So much like Hyacinth Bucket (Bouquet). Cheery and chatty and curious (nosy)…Are you traveling alone??? She and her husband were hosting a good friend of theirs on this trip up and down the canal to Loch Ness who has Parkinson’s. Keeping up Appearances.

Now here in Thurso…and being picked up by Dave’s taxi. Just a short jaunt up the hill to a B&B. Still beautiful weather. Who knew? Off to Orkneys tomorrow.