The Journey is the Destination

Last Saturday at 1pm, Joey and I got on the Path Train.




We had to switch trains a few times on the way to Newark. Four total, I believe.




We got on a KLM plane at 3:30. It took off at 4:40, headed for Amsterdam.



We slept for ten minutes. Immediately after take off we both woke up.



I watched Little Children (indy tripe) and Sleepless in Seattle (which was filed under "KLM Classic Movies" along with Anger Management).



Joey watched The Office and listened to High School Musical.



Against our better judgement, we decided not to drink.



We had iced tea instead. Sparkling.



We didn't sleep again...not once.




We landed in Amsterdam early. 5:30am local, which is 11:30pm New York. We considered getting our drink on. We hoped to go to the casino and win back our Edinburgh "investment". Neither of the above happened and we stared at each other for two hours, smoking cigarettes, planning various ways to torture our travel agent. We decided on a letter bomb. Which is too bad because our travel agent is my mother.






We finally got on a plane to Glasgow. Undocumented because I fell asleep with my mouth open for the entire hour and a half while Joey tossed and turned and spit and cursed next to me. We landed at 8:30am local.

On the bus from Glasgow Airport to Glasgow City Center. The driver wouldn't let us on the first bus and we almost started a riot. Something about luggage. When we got to City Center we had to jump out and catch another bus, which was packed, so we had to sit apart, so I sat in the back, and obviously fell asleep with my mouth open, and we missed our stop, and Joey ran to the back of the bus and punched me in the teeth. I didn't take a picture of that.



We got to our flat at 11:30am local. That's 6:30am New York for those of you who are still reading. We moved stuff into the flat, bedding and groceries that Mother-In-Law brought for us, in a move of sheer generosity and loveliness. At this point Joey and I were barely able to speak anymore.

We got some coffee and headed to the SCAMP flat. SCAMP are our general managers. They are great. They have a great flat. Much better than ours. It smells like coffee and rainbows. Ours smells like feet.






We went to our venue around 4pm, the remarkable and beautiful Pleasance KingDome. It was still being built.







I worked on the bed.







Joey got bored. And shape-shifted into a fraggle.










At 6pm local we went to the countryside. Well, ten minutes out of the city. It was fucking beautiful. We got our harp. Claire, from SCAMP, used the brilliant GPS tracking system (apparently all the rage here) and I fell asleep with my mouth open.










At 8pm we crashed out at the flat a little bit. See how everything's getting blurry? I fell asleep with my mouth open while Joey played the new harp. When he saw I was asleep he threw said harp at my head.



And finally, at 10pm, we met up with SCAMP at the Wally Dug bar.



We drank. At midnight we split. It was a long crawl home, down the endless Princess Street. We got to bed at 1am. Or 8pm, however you choose to look at it.

And the next morning everyone else arrived...