Good news: the worry shell is working nicely! I worry about it almost constantly unless I have it in my hand. More germanely, we all liked today’s hostel much more than the Portree hostel. It has a relaxed, friendly atmosphere; is bright and colorful; is clearly run by people who love running a hostel; encourages guests to help out, including making their own (very cheap) breakfast and washing their own dishes; and has fine plumbing, which has been of great concern. We scrounged some free coffee and tea, and then went down the road to get pasties “handmade in Cornwall,” leading me to conclude that the pasty shop is, in fact, a Cornish embassy.
Our pre-lunch target was another little cemetery on Friars Street, and on the way we visited an exchange business. We also stumbled on an apparently magical book shop with no name, where the book my brother was looking for was on the first bookshelf inside the door–one of two books from a series of fourteen in stock–and the one I’d been wanting was directly under it, with three copies of that and one of another by the same author (Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett, for the curious). Pretty mystical, huh?
Well, the cemetery was nice, although we were a bit rushed as we had a lunch engagement directly afterward. The food was okay, I suppose, although everyone else enjoyed it much more because I didn’t have room for any food due to the enormous vegetable pasty from a few hours ago. Afterward we went to buy some more whisky, as my father is some kind of whisky maniac, and headed for the train station. It’s quite as nice as the Glasgow station, and using the toilet only costs 20p.
The train ride wasn’t so interesting or pretty, since we didn’t go through the highlands, but I had a good time reading. We arrived in Glasgow around six, spent about an hour kicking around in a Wetherspoons, and met Dave and Rosie at a pizzeria a block away. We had a great good time chatting up our Estonian waitress, who was so very excited about America until she heard that we don’t have deep fried pizza–she looked heartbroken on receiving this news. We also discussed tablets, a horrible butter and sugar brick that the Brits take with tea. Not in tea–it’s almost completely insoluble in water. They just… take a bite of this awful thing and then have some coffee. Rosie was nonsensically offended when I started experimenting on mine to see if I could dissolve it.
After dinner we got a taxi back to Kenny’s guest house and I, relieved, got to go to sleep. Good afternoon, Americans, and good whatever-time-it-is to you non-Americans!