This is day four (maybe five) of “so, this is what it’s like to vacation with phil“, and we just passed the last of the tests. We’re done. We can invoice. More importantly, we can actually vacation our little hearts out for the last 24 hours that we’re in Edinburgh.
Also, it seems that we can do 3oz shots of Canadian whisky at eight in the morning. Going to be a great day, I can just tell. Time for breakfast, which may well involve enough fat to turn my heart into confit.
We had great intentions, but after an all-nighter, half a bottle of whisky between us — I can’t believe it either, but it’s true — and a very filling Traditional Scottish Breakfast, none of us could stay awake very long. I fell asleep first and woke up first, so I got to make plans to visit with Stephen.
Near Chris’ place there are perhaps too many good Indian places, and we found another with Stephen’s assistance. Very yummy, very filling, very Edinburgh. Stephen had the wonderful idea to visit the Scotch Malt Whisky Society’s tasting room, but it wasn’t open when we got there — the automated phone message indicated that it would be open until 11pm, but 2 January is apparently some inviolate holiday in Scotland, so we were out of that particular brand of luck. Instead, we substituted a vastly superior brand of luck, and were invited back to Stephen’s to sample his impressive personal collection, talk about topics ranging from the inner workings of Linux filesystems to the devolution of powers in American states and EU countries, and look at pictures of his adorable daughter Heather. Fiona was busy working on a quilt for a gift, but she offered to drive us back to Chris’, so we got to chat a bit then. A fantastic evening; I need more of the Tweedies in my life, clearly.
Over the course of the day, Phil and I had toyed with changing our tickets to stay a few extra days and actually visit with Chris, but our airline friends wanted an outrageous amount of money in change fees. I’m still waiting for a wire to show up, so that wasn’t in the cards for me. Chris has been a saint, more patient than we deserved with our working and sleeping, and we’ll have to come back in a little bit and show him a good time.
I was thinking about sleeping a little bit before we took off to the airport, but Chris just pointed out that that’s in something like an hour. He and Phil were smart and slept. I was not, and didn’t. Story of my frigging life.
(Yes, this entry did say “2 January 2002″ for most of the day. That’s going to happen a lot, I predict.)