The Trip Home… Where ARE my Bags?!

Note from May 17:
I got home from my trip to Amsterdam, Glasgow and Edinburgh – with not much excitement to tell about. It was a lovely trip. In summary – I’m not sure when I’ll get pictures posted – I’m still working on the ones from Ireland (and that was the end of March!!) what you’re seeing here is a backlog of notes from the trip that I compiled – day by day… that are just now getting posted (but on the dates it happened instead of now…)

If there’s one thing I can say for travelling, it’s that there’s never a dull moment. There’s always something to see, explore, do, and enjoy. And getting lost – well, it’s half the fun.

So, I made it out of Glasgow about 3 in the afternoon (an hour late). I had picked up my heavy roller bag wrong when I tossed it on the conveyer to be checked into the belly of the plane, and my back was not happy (spasms). I figured eh, I’m going to be sitting on a flight for a while, so it’s not going to be a big huge deal.

I arrive in Amsterdam, which has to be the most confusing airport I’ve been in in a while. I had about 30 minutes between flights since the one from Glasgow had left late – and I figured my bags just weren’t going to make it. On the bright side, at least I would be at home – when/if they didn’t.

I wandered around for a bit – and then finally figured out where the heck my flight was supposed to be out of. My back was still bothering me (no more spasms, but now a dull ache had set in) and I was thinking well, I’m halfway home – so that’s good at least – once I’m there, I can take a muscle relaxer and get some sleep.

The plane from Amsterdam left on time, and when I got to Berlin, there was no border patrol (EU flight- remember) and the customs agents appeared to have gone home as well. I waited on my bags, and stood there and waited some more. The plane had been full of Japanese tour groups (2 of them in fact) and they had gotten all their luggage. A woman with a small baby had gotten hers… and then came the “END” sign. That’s the end of everything in the plane. There is no more.

So, my bags didn’t make it – not that I’d expected them to – honestly. But neither had several of the other passengers – who had come from London’s Heathrow (new terminal) too. We all promptly marched down to the lost baggage office, and sure enough, discovered that our bags were still in Amsterdam (or Heathrow for those that were from London.). Luckily for me, I was home – I got a 25 eur KLM voucher, and a promise my bags would be in my hands sometime “tomorrow”.

I guess the bright side (thank God for small favors!) – I didn’t have to lug my heavy bag down the stairs, into the train, up the stairs, onto a bus, off a bus, down more stairs, onto a different train, up the stairs, onto a bus, off a bus, up the cobblestones, up the stairs, and into the apartment. I can only imagine how my back would have screamed at me if I had had to do that. In addition, I was home -which meant I had all my electronics (in my backpack), my keys, and my work badge – as well as everything I could possibly need there – except a toothbrush and my makeup. Not a bad deal. I guess if your bags have to be lost, it’s best on the trip home – than on the trip to the destination….

Oh re the bags – yes, they finally made it – on the 14th, about 11 am. Not too bad. I sent a bunch of packages, went to dinner, and then back to work on the 15th.

And In case your counting – that was 4 cities in 5 days – Berlin, Amsterdam, Glasgow, Edinburgh and Berlin – not half bad for a break I’d say.

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Edinburgh, the castle, and the witchery

Note from May 17:
I got home from my trip to Amsterdam, Glasgow and Edinburgh – with not much excitement to tell about. It was a lovely trip. In summary – I’m not sure when I’ll get pictures posted – I’m still working on the ones from Ireland (and that was the end of March!!) what you’re seeing here is a backlog of notes from the trip that I compiled – day by day… that are just now getting posted (but on the dates it happened instead of now…)

Edinburgh.

What can I say. This was probabally the roughest part of the trip. The weather wasn’t going to co-operate and forced me into dealing with it. You see, the BBC said that the weather in Edinburgh was going to be in the 70’s and sunny with intermingled clouds. Liars.

When I got there about 3pm, I hopped of the train and was wearing bermuda shorts and a tank top with a small summer top over it. I had a sweatshirt in case I got a bit chilly, and only had brought a dress and some tights and a dressy cashmere sweater for dinner at the witchery. Only…. BRR! What the hell? It’s kind of chilly (on goes the sweatshirt).

I hop into the taxi (I love the taxis there – can I mention that? They’re like these old 1940’s style with huge back seat areas enough for 6 people and plenty of leg room) and head on to the Thistle Hotel. This was my “expensive” part of the trip, because this hotel looks out on the castle and is just off princes street. Anyhow, the guy behind the counter mentions that they had messed up the reservation. I am like well, my reservation says a double room (two double beds) and not a twin (with a single twin bed). He checks the computer and all the doubles are gone. So, for my 69 pounds sterling, I wound up with an upgrade to the executive suite. SCORE.

I get up to the room – the one on the top floor – it’s the farthest end, and it’s huge. I mean huge. There’s a king sized bed, and a sitting room with couch, chair and end tables. And the bathroom? well, it’s huge – and the tub – perfect for the bubble bath that I was going to crave later, after freezing my ass off.

I dump off the bags, call my mom and wish her a happy mother’s day. From here, I head out and walk up prince’s street toward the scots monument. The temperature is dropping (I’m still in shorts – remember – and have a sweatshirt). As I look around, I start seeing people in winter coats, pulling up their hoods and wrapping scarves around their neck. Checking the time, I realize that the stores are closed… but I can catch the last city bus tour. (Tickets on the tour are good for 24 hours so it’s the best way around to see everything.)

I hop on the tour, deciding on the inside downstairs part of the double decker bus – and off I go. The castle is high upon the hill, and you can see it.

15 minutes later….
The castle is gone in a fog – that completely obliterates all of it and the top half of the scots monument. The wind has kicked up and even being on the inside of the bus, I’m cold…. We cruise past the queen’s residence in scotland, and past the scottish parliment building. Up the hill to the royal mile, and around the base of the castle. We get back to the scots monument and, after not hopping off the bus (for the hop on/hop off tour) I pile out and wonder how much colder it will get. I can feel my hands and feet, but I think it’s because I’ve been in the bus.

Checking the time, it’s 4 hours until dinner at the Witchery (9pm reservation). Ok well, I have a choice – hours back at the hotel or I can wander down to that great cemetery down that I saw and take pictures – freeze, and plan on a bath. I chose the cemetery. I took a ton of pictures and then headed back to the hotel. However, by the time I made it back to the hotel, my poor bare legs and hands and face were frozen. To the point of prickles on my fingertips and legs when I entered the hotel lobby which was warm. At that point, I heard the term of HOT BATH screaming in my brain. And… since I had been to Lush and bought the most wonderful smelling bubblebath, it was an easy decision (I had wanted to bring it home but it didn’t make it) to run a hot bath in the ginormous tub and then relax a bit. (The tub – so big that my feet didn’t touch the far end when lying down.. yeah.. that’s a tub for two!!)

On to the Witchery….

The Witchery. What can I say. Its an amazing gothic styled restaurant.

The name comes from the fact that it was in the shadow of the building that they’d test the “so called” witches by tying their left thumb to their right toe, and their right thumb to their left toe and then toss them in the moat. If they sank, they were not a witch and given a proper christian burial. If they floated, they were a witch. They were to be burnt to death (but strangled first). Either way, I guess you wound up dead?!?

Anyhow, the restaurant – you enter through this tiny close (narrow alleyway between buildings) and from the moment you enter, it seems as though time stops. The inside is dark, completely candle lit. You’re led down a few stairs and into a wood paneled room with high backed seats and tables. The seats have a brocade fabric, and the walls at the very top have a textured brocade fabric on them as well. The celing is all hand painted – and decorations along the walls and windows range from heavy old lanterns (filled with candles) to giant platters and other serving plates. The tables have tall silver candlesticks and a silver tankard filled with thistles and roses. There’s also a couple lower votive candles in glass to make sure you have enough light.

Once you sit, you you are really their guest. They take your coat, you never ask for your wine glass to be refilled, and dinner is a well coriographed ritual, with the courses being served slowly and delicately in front of you. The waiters and waitresses are efficient and non intrusive – they wander around looking official in the background – keeping an eye on each table and making sure they know where you are in dinner – but yet never actually bumping into the conversation, mood, or atmosphere. It’s quite impressive the dance that is performed between the meal, the drinks, and the waiters and customers, and in the end, it made the experience totally food and friend focused. Some 3 hours later, satiated, and thoroughly impressed, we received our coats back, and a taxi was outside waiting in the thickened fog. By far, this is the nicest restaurant I’ve ever been to. Really.

From there, back to the hotel (really, the fog was quite the pea soup you hear about in the stories of scotland) and not long after, sleep. A great evening.

The next morning (May 12) I woke up to pouring rain. It was cold, and just not nice. So, I went back to sleep until about 9 am. This meant, of course, that i missed the hotel breakfast. All was not lost, however, because I walked up the street and had subway – and determined that even with the black tights under my shorts – I was simply NOT warm enough. This prompted a buying spree (speed shopping as mom would call it) for a wool sweater, and a pair of pants so that I was a bit chilly when I was outside, but not absolutely shivvering cold like I had been the night before and earlier that day.

On to the castle….

Now that I was relatively warm, it was time to head on up the royal mile (in between picture taking and souvenier shopping) to the castle. What can I say? It’s a castle, and it’s still being used today.

Up on top, there’s battlements, and the standard fortress like you’d expect. You can’t get into all the buildings, but what you can see is very nice. You can see the restored chambers where Mary Queen of Scots was held, and where her son, James, was born. You can see the Scottish Crown jewels (on display – though you can’t take photos in there), and wander into the small chapel that’s the oldest one on site. You can also walk into the memorial to those lost in world war 1 and world war two (again no pictures) which is totally gothic on the outside, and yet surprisingly (due to gutting and redesign) art deco on the inside. Yes, you can even have tea and a bit of lunch at Queen Anne’s restaurant on the castle grounds, wander into the dungeons (where american prisoners from the revolutionary war were held) and then down to the hospital hill. All of which I did, and enjoyed thoroughly. Yes, I do have a million pictures to be uploaded from this.

From here, I headed back to the hotel to pick up my bags and then back to Glasgow for the night. Of course, I do have to mention that I ate indian food – delicious, semi-spicy indian food. Ahh.. gotta love that – especially since it’s not so available in the US, and the German version is well… bland at best.

Side note – I really do have to get back here – there’s so much to see in Scotland that 4 days just doesn’t cut it!!

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Amsterdam…. in 8 hours!

Note from May 17: I got home from my trip to Amsterdam, Glasgow and Edinburgh – with not much excitement to tell about. It was a lovely trip. In summary – I’m not sure when I’ll get pictures posted – I’m still working on the ones from Ireland (and that was the end of March!!) what you’re seeing here is a backlog of notes from the trip that I compiled – day by day… that are just now getting posted (but on the dates it happened instead of now…):

Amsterdam:

8 hour layover – and it was 75 F outside and sunny. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. I got into the airport by 7:20 am and decided to head into the city since my next flight left at 15:00. I was in the city by 8, and having breakfast at a cafe. After wandering around the centraal train station to get my bearings, I walked down the canals hoping to get to the Anne Frank House before it got too crowded. It opened at 9 am, and I got there about the time it opened. Shockingly, the line was around the building – and nearly 3 hours just to go in. As a result, I got a few pictures of the outside, bought some postcards and decided that 3 hours in Amsterdam would be better spent somewhere/ somehow else.

This meant a bit more wandering the city, until I saw a stand for a 1 hour boat tour out on the harbor. The weather was perfect – and I was craving a boat ride anyhow. (There’s just something about sunshine and water that always attracts this piscies girl – even though I can’t swim!!) So, tickets were 18 euros, but I figured what the heck and went back to the central station, where the boats left from. After popping into a roadside stand for some eierkuchen (egg pancakes with various things in them – usually served cold – kind of like a giant pancake cookie thing) and a gatorade, I grabbed the hour boat tour.

For the next hour, we went out on the harbor, cruised past the maritime museum and then up a few of the canals. Yes, we went back past the Anne Frank House, (the line now was much longer than when I was there) and then back to the main train station. I took a few photographs, but I’m not sure how they’ll come out due to the movement of the boat and reflections off the water.

From there, I headed back to the train station and subsequently to the airport – to continue my journey… to Glasgow.

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