Lost Afternoon

I was just about to take a picture of the mountains on my BlackBerry, I slid it from its pouch, I unlocked it, I went into the phone and turned to see an embankment now blocked the mountains form view.

You find NoozeHound today on a train to Edinburgh. This is more than a little unexpected. The train ride is in fact one small part of a rather largely unexpected afternoon. Not that I didn’t expect an afternoon at all, but I certainly hadn’t imagined it would have unfolded quite like this one.

Sent here on a secret squirrel mission (which makes it sound much grander than I assure you it is) I was up before the sun this morning and by 8:30 was sleeping my way up the country.

Late, I arrived in Edinburgh. Sleazy jet – rush you to get on the plane then when they close the doors and the captain tells us we’re ready just waiting to taxi out, we wait twenty minutes doing nothing for his opportunity to taxi out.
I was not greatly pleased after getting up at 4:30 that the dick driving the plane couldn’t pull out into traffic.

I call my host and he arranges to collect me. Meeting him, he seems a warm, cordial gentleman. He drives me from the airport in his Land Rover . Forty minutes later we arrive at the destination. He gets me tea and introduces me to the key personnel. I get settled in and the second of my hosts arrive. She shows ample cleavage, much to my male pleasure. I look and notice the blouse to be designed such - she does not have an extra button undone.
Not really for my benefit but maybe she thought a bit of cleavage might help. Who knows?
The fact is she had done her job really rather well, which made my job a great deal easier. Not only easier but also much, much quicker. So quick in fact that when I came to a natural break, I soon realised that with the dotting of a few I’s and the crossing of the odd T, I had completed the assigned task.

Our primary host took us for lunch at a farm barn, where I enjoyed a fruit salad and an espresso, which to my amusement was written “expresso”.

The sun was glorious, shining down from a blue cloudy sky. I felt like I had brought it with me – Scotland had not seen sunlight for several days. After I suggested that I had brought the sun with me, assorted suggestions of taking me to the Wallace Monument arose occasionally.

It’s getting over-cast now and cooling a little. As my day is opening out into a wander – with laptop, suited and booted – around Princes Street, that may be a good thing so long as it doesn’t rain.

Now I have had many things suggested to me that I could do in Edinburgh, shopping, museums, castles, art galleries and such and of course the pleasure of a hostelry.

I have to keep my wits about me – laptop, wallet, phone . I can’t get so inebriated that they question letting me on the plane. I have to get to the airport.
 
Only a few moments ago was the first time I even thought about EMNH. She emailed me yesterday making a request on behalf of NoozeHoundette. I went out of my way to comply.
I’m trying to be good.
 
The exercise is not getting done though.
 
Welcome to the disappointment.

SOMETIME LATER….
 
Greetings from the Unesco City of Literature (apparently). A very sunny Edinburgh, where the streets are paved with solar-powered ladies (and tourists) and hot and bothered NoozeHound.

I attended my first requirement at a Sainsbury’s local. I quickly strolled to No. 37 for a my first pint of the black stuff. On my egress I stopped and asked what I thought was perhaps a local about a bar with wi-fi access. He was Scottish but not from Edinburgh – may as well have been a tourist. He told me I would have to wait to get home to see her. If only he knew.

So I consulted the oracle. I tried Poynt first. Waste of bloody time that was.
Then I opted for Google on my phone browser – brilliant. Only because of our bizarre routing and off-shore proxy whenever I approach Google on a new or unset device – on this case my BB – it decides to return the result in Belgian or Dutch. Yeah, go figure?

So after I managed to change the language to Engels, I was quids in. Bars, Wifi Edinburgh.
It kep trying to tell me I was in Hanover Street New York and couldn’t give me a route from there to 103 George Street. Eventually, eventually, eventually, I managed to persuade G that I was in Hanover St, Lothian and it gave me directions to a cocktail bar with wi-fi and 43 ratings.

Ambling my way there, initially cautious as west is not natural parlance to a NoozeHound without compass, I fortuitously stumbled upon a Witherspoons. RESULT.

Free WI-fi and cheap beer. It is now 15:40. I am half-way down my second Guiness.
Life isn’t really so bad, or so one presently considers.

At the back of my mind a million monkeys are waiting to clamber all over my back. I am full of fears at the moment. Scared this might happen or scared that might happen.

I’m doing one of the sad ex things. I read her stars religiously – well at some time during the day. I try to imagine what affect they have on her. If the choices and decisions relate to her old life or her new life.

Mine are pretty great today, hers, not so much. I don’t want her to have a bad day. Not really. My star sign is supposed to love travel. Plane, taxi, train and possibly bus. It's in the stars.

I owed you a picture. This bloke is sort of infront of me. Why have they got a model of Terry Tibbs in a pub in Edinburgh (I don't think he's supposed to be Terry Tibbs - but he's a shorter but very passable version!)

Talk to me!




Welcome to the disappointment.