Day: July 10, 2025

I had periodically been knocking on wood during our trip because everything had gone smoothly, from the upgrade on the flight to Heathrow, to the incident-free driving on the other side of the road, to the places we stayed. Oh, and nobody ostracized us because of, you know.

Fate finally caught up with us on the journey home but in a mild manner, a refresher on how to deal with inconvenience. After a short flight from Glasgow to Heathrow, we tried to get on an earlier flight home, but it was full. No matter: our flight would get us in around 5:00 PM, in time to get home to feed the cats dinner and pick up a preordered meal from a friend in the neighborhood who is trying out his own mini-catering business.

I hate being trapped in a seat longer than a couple hours. My legs get restless, my back needs stretching, and I lose the ability to focus on what I’m reading. I’m terrible at napping, so I just have to endure it. After flitting between the murder mystery I’m reading on my Kindle and NYT puzzles I had downloaded on my phone, I watched two movies in a row. That would put me within an hour of our arrival.

My desire to be home grew with every centimeter the image of our plane on the screen crept down the eastern seaboard: Nova Scotia, Long Island, Atlantic City. Kitties, Mama is coming! Potato pancakes with gravlax and dill, sesame seared Ahi tuna, sautéed green beans, and chocolate mousse, be ready to get destroyed!

Wait. Um, captain, I think you overshot our target. You’re going to need to make a u-turn. He came on the speaker and explained that we were going to have to approach Dulles from the northwest because of storms. Arrival time would now be 5:50. Okay, not so bad. We’d be a little late for our dinner pickup and the cats would have to eat later than they were used to.

Captain! You swung too far to the east. I’d say we’re very close to BWI at this point. Well, that’s where we had to land. Dulles was not allowing any planes to land in the storm. Our gem of a captain made his way through the cabin during the two hours we were stuck on the tarmac, keeping us updated and warmly and patiently answering our questions. BWI is not staffed to handle diverted plane-loads of passengers would have to pass through customs, so we had to wait until Dulles opened up again.

We finally landed at our original destination around 9:30, breezed through customs, and took a taxi home. Our friend across the street had fed the cats, and our chef-friend’s daughter had delivered our dinner. Most of the plants were happy, and the cats had been well looked after by one of my favorite neighborhood teens.

I’d say it’s been an overall success.

We took a morning train from Edinburgh to Glasgow on Tuesday for our final stop before flying home yesterday. We sort of wish we had made more time for this city. Though not offering the surreal, mystical vistas Edinburgh does, it was charming in its own right and offered way more breathing room. I’m sticking with my infatuated praise of Edinburgh, but I have to admit the crowds were a bit much. Selfie sticks, people paying to have an owl perch on their forearms, throngs of young tourists mugging for the perfect Insta pic, Harry Potter tours…it got to be a bit much.

The train station spit us out in the middle of a wide esplanade lined with shops and cafes reminiscent of Newberry Street in Boston (or rather, the other way around). After checking into the hotel, our room ready early (much to Maxine’s delight), Chris, Edwin and I set off to walk about the city while Maxine got her alone time.

We first headed to Glasgow Cathedral, which was originally Catholic and changed to Protestant during the Scottish Reformation in the 16th century. It has remained a Church of Scotland parish ever since. It is the oldest cathedral in mainland Scotland; construction began in 1136 and took 350 years to finish.

From the cathedral, we trekked across town to the Botanic Gardens, item #1 on Edwin’s list. He has become a full-blown plant and enthusiastically pointed out his favorites, most finicky, and hardest to find. My energy was flagging at this point, not having had quality sleep in a few days, but a scoop of gelato on a cone refueled me enough to continue our adventure.

Edwin was excited to check out the subway system and felt he had pretty much gotten what he had come for, so we parted ways. Chris and I continued our trek to Glasgow University, where fresh-faced very recent grads – as of that afternoon – clustered in pairs, solo, and with parents for photos in their graduation gowns, the young women holding bouquets of flowers. According to a quick Google search, the university was founded in 1451 and is the English-speaking world’s fourth oldest university and one of Scotland’s four ancient universities. It’s mostly comprised of grand Victorian buildings, but the odd 1950’s-looking building is wedged between them. I actually found this to be part of Glasgow’s charm: the old and new mingling throughout the city. Instead of coming off as out of place, it struck me as a comforting bridge between the past and present.

We had our final dinner at a wood-fired pizza restaurant (Scotland and Wales seem to be very big on these, and they do a good job). Chris got his fish and chips for lunch, so he was content with this choice. As we discussed the highs and lows of the trip, the kids clearly were ready to go home. I guess I was too, but I was going to miss so much about Wales and Scotland. Besides the obvious (beautiful architecture and landscapes and those accents I couldn’t stop trying on to the great annoyance of my family), one thing I was grateful for time and again was their modest use of space and goods and a stronger commitment to reducing waste than we seem to have here. Instead of a 12-cup coffee pot, they use a French press. Instead of hulking trash cans, they have small ones, with larger containers dedicated to compost and recycling. They buy groceries in smaller quantities, their vehicles are smaller, gasoline is more expensive (as it should be). More people are riding bikes and taking public transportation. I guess much of this has to do with the fact that the modern world in the U.K. and Europe has been forced to exist on top of a much older foundation, so they have to make due with narrow streets built for pedestrians and carriages.

With all we’ve been going through at home, I found comfort in learning about the dark times the Scots and Welsh have endured and have managed to come through. Time to take a deep breath and dive back into the swirling chaos at home. We will persevere.