The plane journey home kept the tone of the trip fairly well. Spinks pretended to do the Austin Powers “going down the stairs” trick behind Saudi immigration officials as G and I had our passports checked. This didn’t go down well. Spinks had to perform press-ups in front of security guards as he lost a silly game we’ve been playing all trip (I’d explain the rules but you’d judge me). With a choice of various recent blockbusters on offer during the flight we opted for the hard-hitting thriller ‘Mr Popper’s Penguins.’ Then all our screens broke and we had to read books like cavemen. Upon arrival in London we rushed on to the tube (after saying goodbye to G who nipped to Berlin for a party and was promptly rushed to hospital with an infected knee) as Spinks had a job interview. He then realised he’d forgotten his sister’s Christmas present and there followed a raging argument where he tried to convince me to go back for it. I didn’t.
But the rush wasn’t over. It was discovered that my bank card had somehow been damaged in transit and I therefore had five solitary English pounds to my name. I called the Bank of Scotland people who told me I had to make my way to the only branch they had in London where I could claim some cash. It was a five pound tube journey away and my phone didn’t work. I realised that if I didn’t manage to find the branch I may be in a spot of bother. Building up the bravery and tenacity that I’d accumulated over the previous few months traveling I marched on to the underground and crossed my fingers. It took me over an hour to find the bloody place. The teller informed me solemnly that I could’ve gone to any Halifax branch (of which there was one back where I started). I nodded knowingly, muttered something about only wanting the Bank of Scotland and left with my head held high.
That night we partied. The next morning we boarded a megabus to Glasgow and partied some more. This lasted three days. I now find myself in my parents’ new abode, a large cottage 2 miles outside Stonehaven. The first night I couldn’t sleep as it was too quiet. Really, quite bizarre. You can hear crows flapping through the windows.
Oh, and on the flip side I’ve been nursing an infected burn on my right calf that has now equated to two trips to the doctors with more to follow. My dressing fell off it today and mum had to help me re-apply. She dry heaved when she saw the wound. Not a good sign.
So, back to reality, to job-hunting, to weekends, weekdays and chatting about last nights’ TV. But first, Christmas, New Year and a few more re-unions. Big trip synopsis still to come…
PS – Scotland is colder than I remember. And I remember it being rather cold.