Day 21 (August 4): Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig
I can’t believe it’s been three full weeks. I am exhausted, exhilarated, excavated, and exuding enthusiasm.. (Should write a poem about that.) I rise before the alarm goes off, quickly shower, and stow the last of my clothes into my carryon. Should I take the leftover black currant jam? The leftover cheddar? The packaged snacks the hotel leaves us? No, no, and no. My suitcase is bulging. I will be fed on the plane. Arielle wakes, sleepily, and gets ready while I walk to the car park to get the car. It’s still there! I am absurdly thankful for this (had a nightmare about it’s being stolen and we had to walk back to Edinburgh airport). I return with the car, and we say good-bye to our rather plain room (unadorned except for a ghastly cartoon figure that we understand is in all the hotel rooms and is a popular Scottish version of Dennis the Menace). Linda Nemec Foster’s husband found this picture so disturbing in their room that he tried to unscrew it from the wall so he could hide i...
