Marriage

Tonight we had the third wedding of 2012, on the third continent. This was also the coldest place we've been for a wedding this year, down by the Firth of Forth in Queensferry. Still, the abundant rain that had fallen on us as we took the coach there from Edinburgh abated by the time of the service, leaving us with a beautiful clear view of the sea and the bridge.

Sick again

For lunch today we went to the Tron, a pub behind the Tron Church, which didn't have any light cycles or Master Control computer programs hanging out at the bar. There was a very loud bunch of lads on a stag do, at 11:30 in the morning, which seemed a bit keen, but I suppose you should be happy people can wear hats with fake ginger hair and a bobble on top at first thing in the morning.

The Stand

Last night we went to the Stand for some comedy. It was strange to be in a venue that had been designed for comedy, rather than a basement decorated solely with cockroaches or a bar full of drunks shouting at one another. Strange, but nice.

Alarmed

At 4:30am local time, the fire alarms went off, a never ending klaxon that chased us out of our beds and down the street below, where the pretty flashing lights of the fire engine contrasted with the downpour of rain. We shuffled about in the shelter of the hotel car park for ten minutes, then walked down the street to the hotel's sister establishment, where we were offered coffee (at this time of night? No thank you), just before the alarm ceased and we all trooped back again.

A day in Edinburgh

Edinburgh is very nice when it's sunny. Or so it seemed for the twenty minutes that it was sunny. We walked up to the castle, then walked down towards the railway station, and the first drops of rain began to fall. We carried on, all the way to the Scott Memorial, which looks like some spiteful anachronism in the middle of town. All around it are gleaming, shiny buildings, and then there's this evil, blackened talon stabbing up at the sky.

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.