Thursday 7th August 2008

Anyone that knows me well will know that I am not a morning person.    My idea of getting up early involves getting up in time for lunch.  So when the alarm went off for 5.00am, I thought I had died and gone to hell.

It felt doubly worse because I had only gone to bed four hours earlier after having packed my suitcase for the umpteenth time - finally managing to fit my grandad’s German brandy and curry ketchup into the case.   This involved sitting on the suitcase and praying the zip wouldn’t burst!    God help us if Customs and Excise ask us to open the case up!

Four hours sleep - a bad omen.

I then go back to sleep.

Monika also goes back to sleep.

I wake up at 5.30am and now I am really panicking.   Monika is rushing now too and rushing is not her “thing” so tempers are a bit frayed.   We wash and dress in record time.   We need to be out the door at 6.00am if we’re to catch our train to Frankfurt at 6.30am.     But remarkably I still find time to check my emails!    What a true geek I am!    I’m rushing about like a headless chicken but I still find time to put in my password and check to see who’s been emailing me!     Monika says my priorities are out of order.    Maybe she’s right.    But at least I know the current price of Viagra.

6.25am - we made it to the station and we are on the train.   The train is actually not that full but we weren’t worried as we had seat reservations anyway.   The train conductor is doing his “I want to try my weird English out” day so he is checking my ticket and saying “Think yoo foor triveelling weeth Deutsche Baahhn” (”Thank you for travelling with Deutsche Bahn”).    I’m struggling to keep a straight face when he says that.  I’m thinking of getting my mobile phone out and asking him to speak into the phone so I can get a ringtone made of it.

8.00am - We’re at Frankfurt airport.    Today is the beginning of a 36 hour Lufthansa pilot strike but our flight is miraculously unaffected.   The pilots seem to have spontanously decided that their huge salary is a pittance and they want more.   This has thrown Frankfurt airport into total chaos and people are walking around as if it’s been declared that coffee has gone extinct.   They’re going nuts!  I went into the bathrooms and one guy was talking to the toilet!    Seriously.    He was peeing and talking to the toilet (or maybe talking to the pee?  I don’t know - he was muttering to it!).    I got out of there sharpish!    Another guy was punching the metal stand of the departures board - does he think punching it will suddenly make the planes take off?    Maybe he knows a secret he should share with everyone else?

10.00am - taken off on the first flight for London Heathrow.   Take off was 45 minutes late (probably due to the pilot’s strike) but at least we have a flight which is more than a lot of other people who are stranded in the airport with nothing.

The steward (who is so obviously gay) came round with the food.    Offerings were pathetic, considering how much we paid for the tickets.   One roll with something I later found to be chicken (although at the time I thought it was cheese!).    I also got a cup of tea and asked for milk.  He gave me coffee cream.    I then engaged in the old tired argument I have with Lufthansa every year I fly with them :

ME :  “Excuse me, this is not milk, this is coffee cream”
THEM : “That IS milk”
ME : <patiently> “No, that is coffee cream.   There’s a difference.”
THEM : “What’s the difference?”
ME : “Are you honestly asking me what the difference is between milk and coffee cream?”

Eventually I give up and just ask for extra sugar and drink the tea black.    Arguing with them isn’t worth the effort.

11.30am - arrived in Heathrow.    Gained a hour in time difference.    First thing we noticed was the massive increase in security.   Even I, as a British citizen, wasn’t exempt from all the checks.    I was biometrically photographed, questioned, scrutinised, asked where I was coming from, where I was going to, who I was travelling with, my passport was closely looked at by several different security checkpoints, and so on.   I was very taken aback by how much I had to go through - and that was for a connecting flight.   Imagine if I was actually coming out of Heathrow Airport?

12.45pm - taken off for Edinburgh on the connecting flight.    Only 10 minutes into the flight, the plane is starting to look like home already.    Some of the passengers are tartan-clad and are starting to get sozzled by the alcohol cart that the flight attendants are wheeling up and down the aisle.    The guy in front of me is wearing a tartan suit and he is totally steaming!     He’s alternating between singing and drinking.   The song is something about kicking the ass of the English back to where they belong.   I’m home!

Then the pilot comes on and delivers the immortal lines : “just got the weather forecast for Scotland.    Not too good I’m afraid.   10 degrees celsius and raining.   So I’ll get you there but it’s not too sunny I’m afraid!”

I exclaimed : “of course it’s bloody raining!    We’re going to Scotland!     What do you expect in Edinburgh?   Palm trees?”

My voice must have been a bit loud because the other passengers started laughing.    The guy in front of me almost choked on his 10th beer.

2.15pm - Arrived in Edinburgh - and it’s bloody raining!     Thankfully my mother is waiting with the car and a big umberella.    My gran is also back at the house cooking a hot lunch.    I love my mum and my gran.    They know how to take care of me!

The afternoon consisted of sitting with my parents and grandparents, relaxing and chatting.    I also fell asleep for a few hours because I was exhausted from the trip.   Monika was also tired and also slept to a lesser extent.    In the evening, we went to the Military Tattoo at the Castle.

9.00pm - For those of you who don’t know what the Tattoo is, the Tattoo is a world-famous display of music at Edinburgh Castle.    It consists mainly of bagpipe music from the British military pipe bands but each year, the Tattoo organisers invite bands and groups from other countries to perform at the Tattoo.   It is considered to be a huge honour to be invited.    Every year, the Tattoo is completely sold out within a week of the tickets going on sale (normally around January) and the first Tattoo was held in 1950.   So it has been going on for a long time.    It is estimated that over 200,000 people from all over the world see the Tattoo each year.

Before last week, my last visit to the Tattoo was about ten years ago.   Up until now, I just watched it on the TV (the BBC televises the highlights each year).     But this year, I wanted to treat Monika so we decided to go.

I am kicking myself that I didn’t take my video camera.   I didn’t take it because I thought that I wouldn’t have a clear view, that people’s heads would be in the way, etc.   But in fact, it was the exact opposite - I had a clear uninterrupted view.   In fact it was perfect.

The show was extremely good.    We took some pictures.    I’ll try to get them onto Flickr as soon as possible.

After the show, we staggered home and collapsed into bed.   We were up for 19 hours by that point and we were so tired we could barely move.    A long day and now we were determined to have a long sleep.

More tomorrow

Related posts:

1. Back from Scotland!
2. Scotland - the ongoing mission
3. Day Two In Scotland : Hopetoun House, gorillas, scones and French sausages
4. Bag Embossed With Gun Shape
5. Headline of the week