I have managed to land in the middle of a weather catastrophe in Northern England.
I have met two exceptional people who made that catastrophe dramatically easier.
I have made a decision about the next few months of my life and it is thrilling and daunting.
What a world.
I now have two lovely overnight trips in reserved cars in India under my belt. I feel like a pro. Sort of. Some important facts:
A. The upper bunk may be very cold. (Air conditioning is good for sleeping, unless you did not bring layers).
B. Men come by selling food and chai and bottled water.
C. Light coming through the curtain may be disturbing.
D. The porters should be tipped 150 or 200 rupees.
E. Beggars should not be tipped.
F. The Western style toilets will be at one end of the coach.
G. Hand sanitizer is a good idea.
H. Don’t talk to loud.
An unrelated comment of which I was reminded when I wrote “someone will help you:”
Dharamsala (and possibly the whole of India) may be home to the nicest people on earth. I have never been smiled at by so many people of different ages and types as in this place. It is utterly refreshing. Monks are wonderful, of course, but their beautiful souls appear to be contagious. Gosh I love reciprocal smilers.
A. Be a radical optimist.
B. When traveling by train at night in India, use the Western style toilet.
C. Consider the usefulness of hanging upside down.
D. Appreciate your ankles and air that is clean and sweet porridge and brightly colored clothing.
E. Eat turmeric.
F. When you see locals dashing into a cafe run by a monastery, follow them!
I can only do travel as adventure.
Today, intending to catch a train from St Andrews to Edinburgh at 1:46, I arrived at Leuchars in the Bobby Mobile and unloaded my overpacking for the weekend. I needed my phone right away because picking up your train ticket requires a confirmation code but of course, I couldn’t find it. I was sure I’d brought it with me and I was ten minutes early, so I dropped everything in the parking lot and searched all the various pockets frantically. Then I stopped a passing car and asked the driver to call my phone and I sat on the ground clutching my bags and hoping to feel a vibration, but alas, everything was still.
At this point, I considered crying, but it really seemed like a useless proposition and so I ran across the tracks (up the stairs, bags bouncing, down the stairs, rail in hand) and continued to be generally frantic. I explained the situation to the ticket man, who was nice enough to inform me that I could catch the next train at 2:29, but I would get into Edinburgh at 3:27, which is notable because my train to London would be leaving that station three minutes later, at 3:30. I was already disheartened and so when he explained that I could get the train to London at 4:30, if I paid him forty pounds, I decided to do that. He also explained that if I happened to catch the 3:30, I might get a refund. So I thought to myself, I’m going to do that, and I smiled a lot before running out of the ticket office, back over the tracks (you guessed it, bags bouncing) and up to three cab drivers who were standing together leisurely.
Me: Excuse me, would one of you do me a really strange favor.
Scottish taxi driver: Go on then.
Me: I think I’ve dropped my phone somewhere in my car and if I’m wrong I have to drive back to St Andrews. But would you call me so that I can go listen for it in my car?
Scottish taxi driver: Alright then.
Me: Thank you do much. (gushing)
Scottish taxi driver: What’s your number then?
I give him my number and ask him to give me just a minute. He looks skeptical but willing and I sprint across the parking lot, drop my things in the car and wave at him to start calling. He does, and I hear a faint vibrating, which nearly inspires me to tears of joy. After that he had to call me six more times before I discovered my phone sitting happily under the passenger seat, as pleased as could be with this little trick it had pulled.
I gathered my things and went back again, chatting with the man who sells food on the platform. He to,d me I was beautiful, which was weird, but it’s possible he just wanted me to buy coffee with my egg and cheese sandwich.
Having determined quickly that I was not the only one making the London connection, I managed to find a seat in the first car next to a man with slightly yellowed eyes, dyed black hair and really awful breath. Surprisingly, I didn’t notice the breath until after I’d offered him a piece of gum and I’m glad because I probably would’ve been too embarrassed to offer had I noticed and e offering prompted a deeply hilarious conversation that I enjoyed thoroughly despite having some difficulty following it precisely.
He began by telling me that he used to work at Canary Wharf in London, which he explained was wonderful because just outside there was a Mark’s & Spencer. Full stop. He also said he worked in a skyscraper and that he could see Buckingham Palace and it was all really incredible.
About New York he said: it’s not London, but it’s a grand city. Just grand. I visited some museums, you know. Museums aren’t really my thing, and I don’t care much for modern art but the MOMA, wow, the MOMA is really an awesome museum.
When he used the word awesome, it was like you could hear the root. He was actually meaning awe inspiring.
About DC he said: I was there because my eldest daughter was presenting a paper and I did t expect to like it much, but up close it’s just incredible. The buildings – the space – everything is so big. And you see it on the tele, but it’s not the same until you’re there.
About a place called Durham in Edinburgh he said: I used to walk from up by the Durham castle and cathedral and you can look down on your left there and see these hills. They’re called the red hills because when the English and Scottish armies fought there, the English were up here (he gestured with his hand) and the Scottish army was fighting uphill and so they’re called the red hills for all the blood.
About the Grace Kelly museum he visited he said: It’s not really my thing, you know, ladies’ dresses and shoes and all that, but I was absolutely amazed. I really yank Grace Kelly is your version of Princess Di. Just in terms of size and hair and all that. And for seven quid – couldn’t pass it up! I almost went again, would you believe?
About his daughter who may be the youngest person ever to graduate with a law degree from Cambridge he said: Cost me 20,000 pounds, but it was worth it. Oh yeah, she’s worked for three of the five biggest firms in London. And she doesn’t tell me much – you know lawyers don’t talk much about cases – but I know she met that woman off The Apprentice because she told me once that this woman is actually really attractive in person. (chuckles). My daughter said she was ‘poorly advised.’
Later, he pointed out the road bridge to Edinburgh and an oil tanker on the water. He said he works in Aberdeen now, but that trying to make the London connection never worked for him – he said they wouldn’t open the doors even if you made it. This made me nervous, but I tried not to become excessively concerned.
He got off the stop before mine, gathered his things and wished me well. What a man.
Then I joined what appeared to be a rugby team standing at the front door of the train and challenged them to a race to platform 2, which had just been announced as the platform for the train to London. As soon as the door opened, we were off to the races. Literally. We sprinted to the automatic ticket gates, exited and rounded a corner to the left only to discover that platform 2 was, in fact, empty. Someone checked a tv monitor and it turned out we were meant to go to platform 8, which required a number of up and down flights of stairs and a lot more running.
So that was fun.
But then I made it, and that was really fun.
And now I am sitting in my assigned seat in the quiet coach, writing this account for you mostly because the man on the first train needed to be quoted.
I am a happy Lime!
I spent 19 hours traveling yesterday. I think, but I’m not sure exactly which parts to count, or if I get to say from when I woke up to when I went to bed. If we count that way, it would be 22 hours that began at 5 am (3 am in the time zone where I eventually ended up) and included a ferry, two busses, two airplanes, another bus, a train, and the Bobby mobile driven by GT himself.
Friends I made:
1. the ferry man who wrote me a note in Greek that I could use with people who didn’t speak English to explain that I was going to the airport and to please help me arrive there
2. the lady at the airport who, when asked if she spoke English, replied “would I be working here if I didn’t?” (maybe we weren’t really friends, but I didn’t care because she did speak English)
3. Brad Pitt (I watched Moneyball on the first plane)
4. British Airways — who knew? They still serve food on all their flights
5. an extremely drunk older man who insisted on sitting next to me on bus number three and asking whether I thought his sixteen-year-old, water-skiing son would be able to go to the University of Louisiana (although his son went from sixteen to seventeen about halfway through the conversation, and his equally drunk friends kept telling him to leave me alone)
6. the older couple sitting behind me on bus number three who assured me that they would not have abandoned me had the man become inappropriate or ‘pawing’ (they were back from a weekend trip to London and when I explained my trip that day, the lady said I must just be ‘shattered’ and I felt happy because I love the use of the word ‘shattered’ by Scots)
7. a girl in front of me waiting for the ticket machine at the train station, who explained that everyone in Edinburgh was drunk because of the rugby game (England vs. Scotland – whoa)
8. a mum with her two daughters from Northern Ireland, going to drop off the elder at the second term of her second semester studying for a nursing degree at Dundee (they were darling and I gave them my email address)
9. GT — oh wait, he was already my friend (but I was so happy to see him at the train station that I feel it’s all renewed and doubled)
