Safely arrived

Our flight to England was uneventful, which is the best kind of flight to have. Somehow, BA economy felt even more cramped than United; the food was (incredibly) worse, but I suppose I shouldn't complain, since I got something to eat. At Heathrow, we walked and walked and walked, then took a bus to Terminal 5 and went through a series of security cordons where they kept photographing our faces, in case we were shapechanging aliens intent on infiltrating the airline network.

Edinburgh airport is small. It reminds me of Halifax, Nova Scotia, except without a Chickenburger or a concession selling John Lobster shirts. Or any Canadians, except for my wife. We had a friendly and talkative taxi driver take us at reasonable speed to the Old Town, and were checked into our hotel without any fuss, at 8:30 in the morning.

Cleaned and showered, we went out for a walk, and to get my beard trimmed. The cheery barber insisted on cutting my hair and giving me a hot shave too, and after I emerged from the hot towels, like a carefully groomed insect leaving its chrysalis, I looked like a new man. A man who's had another man groom his eyebrows. Scotland is quite a strange place.

Now we sit in a cafe on the Grassmarket, eating our third breakfast of the day (something to obliterate the taste of two disgusting BA meals on the trot) and preparing to ascend Arthur's Seat. The sky is blue, the wind is gentle, it's going to be a good day.