Leaving Nashvegas

“Weather conditions for our arrival in Edinburgh are slightly cloudy, 63 degrees, with light winds from the north east,” announced the pilot.
Didn’t sound too bad. I guess I might need to get used to saying “not bad”, and “ok” more often and using excessively positive words like “freakin’ awesome” in moderation.
Both flights had gone smoothly. On the second leg, from Newark to Edinburgh, I had employed my usual tactics to trick my body into thinking I was already in my destination’s time zone – essentially putting the clocks on all my devices forward to Edinburgh time. However, this tactic was somewhat thwarted by the airline’s insistence on serving a meal not long after take-off, which was either at 10pm or 4am, depending on your viewpoint, neither of which is dinner time, unless you’re Spanish. Of course I could have refused the meal, but that would have taken self-discipline, and I’ve been living in America for 9 months. Halfway through said meal, of course, I wished I had more self-discipline. Anyway, it takes them a long time to serve a whole aircraft with pointlessly bad meals, which means it’s considerably longer until they switch the cabin lights off and tuck you in, which is my main point. Once they had, I got to sleep quickly and apart from a few times waking up and realising I had the whole wide-open mouth and possibly snoring thing going on, I slept right through until I was woken up by the ‘ping’ that accompanies the seat belt sign being switched on, and the lights coming back up. Touched down on Edinburgh’s tarmac, to a view of greyish skies and the Pentland Hills punctuating the horizon. I’d forgotten about the Pentlands. And realised I loved that view, and was glad to be home.
We went back to mum’s flat so she could use the bathroom (hanging out with my mum may not be so different from hanging out with the Robinsons), and also so I could call the family in London from the landline. Landlines. Still alive and well in the UK. Praise Him. Arrived home to ‘welcome back’ pictures on my bedroom door from my niece and nephews. Nice to feel loved.
After a coffee and some tray bakes (TRAYBAKES! Praise Him again) I drove down to Newhaven harbour to Instagram the lighthouse, and have lunch with mum. The roads are so narrow here. For lunch I had sweet potato soup, which reminded me of America, and some incredible bread, which didn’t 🙂
Mum has asked me to pick up one of her friends for an event on Tuesday, as she will be tied up elsewhere. So she insisted we do a ‘dry-run’ yesterday. Only my mother could make picking up someone from their house into a military operation, complete with pre-arranged parking spots and coded signals from the window. We did the recce, and I think I’ve got the hang of it.
She then dropped me in the West End, and I had a British customer service experience for the first time in a while, acquiring a SIM card for my phone. Couldn’t help but feel the guy wanted me out of the shop as soon as possible. Walked along Princes St, sat for a while in Starbucks, more for the view than the coffee, then wandered home via Leith St and Broughton St. The sun was now fully out and Edinburgh looked just beautiful. Felt like Instagramming something every 5 minutes, but I restrained myself.
Got home, and watched the important plays from the Red Sox walk-off win the previous night over fish and chips and a Hoegaarden Grand Cru. Felt like Instagramming everything again.
This morning I headed to my closest coffee shop for some alone time. Being a Saturday morning, it was quite busy. On discovering I wasn’t looking for lunch, the proprietor offered me a seat at a table which was quite clearly reserved for a large group.
“When do you need the table?” I asked.
“Not until 11.30, so if you’re only in for coffee and cake that should be plenty of time.”
I looked at the clock. It was 10.40. Coffee and cake in 50 minutes? Unrealistic. I can’t blame him, he couldn’t tell from looking at me that I am accustomed to loafing in coffee shops for extended periods of time. Which I guess is a good thing. I thanked him and moved along the street to Coffee Angel. It might take me a while to find a replacement for the Jam in my life. Not that I feel ready to move on just yet, after Thursday’s painful break-up 🙂
The sun shone again today. I miss my Nashville family, but tomorrow I get to see my St Mungo’s family again and have lunch with Wiseman and Mrs Wiseman. At PizzaExpress, obviously. Cannot wait.

3 thoughts on “Leaving Nashvegas”

  1. Ahhh Quinn – you blogged! We miss you terribly over here. In fact I was going to organize the garage today, but I thought, "Quinn's not here, what's the point" so gave up. Enjoy Pizza Express. Give my love to the Wisemans (Wisemen?) See you soon.

  2. I know this is a few years late, but I love the comment about it not being so different than life with the Robinsons.

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