No Regrets!

This morning, a young Moroccan girl from Montreal joined the group. She says that she narrowly avoided disaster when the ticket agent at the airport wished her a good time in California and she realized that she had booked a flight to the wrong San Jose. That must happen a lot. A pregnant German woman also joined our trip. The third person, a German guy, never showed up.

Jorge told us what to expect for the rest of the day and gave us more options for the next few days.

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I didn’t go to sleep last night, so getting up for my early flight was not an issue.

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Doing something exciting for New Year’s or taking a few weeks off for a trip during the summer used to be an annual tradition for me, but for reasons personal and professional, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone anywhere. And it’s been bothering me.

Right now, my biggest issue is a lack of vacation time. American businesses generally offer their employees two or three weeks of vacation time, sometimes including sick time in that total. Unfortunately, after the inevitable weddings and funerals and sinus infections, that doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for us to take any real trips.

At least compared to other countries, American standards of vacation time are pathetic. Brazil and over a dozen European countries offer over a month of vacation each year. That’s the way to do it. When I told Kirtan, an English guy I met on a group trip a few years ago, that I was considering another group trip, he said, “I’ve actually done about 12 group trips since 2009.” Lucky guy.

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This morning, we packed up, dropped our bags at reception, and squeezed in a bit more London, starting with a quick stop at the Tower Bridge.

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As we were getting kicked off the train, Doug took the plunge on a sweet hotel on Tower Hill. After a mix-up with hotel rooms and keys, the hotel proved to be sweet indeed, with big fluffy beds, a gym, a hot tub, and saunas. We could do with a bit of luxury to finish off the trip.

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For dinner last night, I had some curry chicken and a fried Mars bar. My cousin Andrew had told me to be on the lookout for those. It tastes about how you’d expect: warm and soft and sweet on the inside, crunchy and savory on the outside.

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After a full night’s sleep, I woke up feeling like a million quid. Unfortunately, it seems I missed some good karaoke last night.

For this morning, I booked a free walking tour through the cobblestone roads and alleys of historic Edinburgh. Fiona, our loud and articulate guide, showed us a historic close (Scottish for alley), St. Giles Cathedral, Greyfriars Cemetery, and explained where the expressions “shitfaced” and “graveyard shift” come from.

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Checked out of Moorag’s Lodge and headed straight for Loch Ness.

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Despite some snoring from two of the guys (and apparently me), I got a decent night’s sleep. After a quick porridge breakfast in the hostel, we hit the road with Andy. It was a dark, rainy, blustery day, and the bus bounced around pretty good.

Our first stop was an overlook at Loch Garry, a body of water that, according to legend, was carved out so that it looked like Scotland from above.

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It was late by the time we got into Edinburgh, found our hostel, and dropped our bags. Doug, Conrad, and I set out to find some food, but the only open places in the area were KFC and McDonald’s. After filling up on burgers and chicken tenders, we were feeling better and worse at the same time.

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