SCOTLAND!

I like Scotland.

I took the night bus back, jammed in next to a six-foot-six fellow named Lou who was nigh on three hundred pounds, came from South Africa and had lived in Scotland for the last ten years with his wife and two daughters.

I slept a little. Well, I was unconscious a little, if not asleep. I remembered to bring my ear plugs on the bus, which helped, but I HATE these earplugs. They don't squish very well and make my ears hurt.

Oh! After I checked out of my hostel on Friday, I went to the Camden Market.

OH. MY. LORD. What a fantastic market! A lot of booths were really just the same thing over and over again, but about thirty percent of the booths were artisans, hawking their wares. I got some great inspiration.

There was a whole store selling rave gear. At least, that's what I thought when I first went in. The store went down a few levels, and the deeper you got, the less rave it got, and the more cyberpunk. I LOVE cyberpunk, providing it's done well. There was a whole line of handmade cyberpunk jewellry which I'm going to have to emulate when I get back to my tools. (It was good, but not as good as I could make it.)

I would have taken pictures of that store, but they were very strict on no cameras, and had people patrolling, keeping people from taking pictures.

Oh! And there was a whole room of cyberpunk erotic clothing! How hilarious is that? (Says the girl who would buy one of everything in that store if she'd had the money...)

The picture up there is from the side of the river, looking up towards the backside of the market. I had a sit down there and ate my lunch and read my terrible romance novels and made friends with pigeons.

When I got into Glasgow, I hopped on a bus and headed towards Amber's place. I dropped my junk, and we headed out to a big ole flea market. I ended up buying a tiny silver mussel fork, and a triple string of really excellent fake pearls. They were all crusted with crap, but they cleaned up really nicely. I'm tossing up whether to strip the pearls and make them into something else, or keep them as is, because it's a very nice, simple necklace.

We wandered around Glasgow for a while. Found that amazing cheese shop with the French guy with the Scottish/French accent. They were amused to see us again, and fed us a lot more cheese, and we bought a bunch of cheese.

Saw cool graffiti! Made me think of Tyne.

Anyway. Ran into Fergus, the Scot what works at the computer store, and we ate fish and chips and Indian food, though not together.

Then sleep.

Then yesterday the four of us went out walking in Paisley. Kelly and Fergus fucked off to take pictures of buildings, and Amber and I went to the grocery store to find dinner. There was a duck on sale, so we grabbed that, and some butter chicken sauce, and were heading back when we passed a little pub.

It looked like a nice pub, so I suggested we stop for a pint.

So there we are, sedately drinking our Guinness, when the four Scottish men standing at the bar (there always seems to be four Scottish men standing at the bar here) asked us whether we were American or Canadian. When we replied Canadian, there was high fiving and bets settled.

Then they bought us a round. And challenged us to a game of dominos.

Those men took their dominos seriously. It was kind of hilarious. There was a very old Scottish man with a face like a wrinkled apple who kept talking to us, but I couldn't understand a damned word her said.

Five pints later, we decided we should probably go, because we had a duck. Those guys would have kept buying us beer until we fell over, I think. (I also spotted the other cute Scottish guy, who was having beer with his mother and uncle, and I know this because AMBER IS A BASTARD WHO LIKES TO MORTIFY ROSIE).

We stumbled off down the road, taking a wee break on a nice grassy patch with trees.

We also found a church along the way that I'd never seen before. Not surprising, though, seeing as there seems to be an enormous church when ever you turn the corner.

After a while of laying on our backs, trying to make the world stop spinning (we eventually worked out that we'd had five pints in two hours, an act which I don't think I'll repeat any time soon), we pried our corpses up and tottered off down the road.

Fortunately, Amber's house was a lot closer than I'd thought, and we made it home without falling over and napping.

Then duck! I made Fergus de-bone the bird. He'd never stripped a bird before, so I was trying to teach him. He was not very willing though.

"You've never de-boned a bird before?" I asked, aghast.

"No," says Fergus, quite startled that I would think that any person in the early twenties should have by now.

"Well, how do you get the meat off the bones, then?" asked I.

Fergus looked at me as if I were daft. "We have butchers to do that."

It's true, though. There's a butcher on every corner here. Also, bakers and delis. The pre-made meals you can get here are amazing, and the packages desserts are of such incredibly variety and quality.

Anyway. Made it through the duck without stabbing myself or Fergus, and it was all cooked and very, very good.

This is Grandpa Hamish.

He is Amber's new kitten.

He is fierce.

He likes to hump stuffed animals.

(By 'hump' I mean 'attack ferociously'.)

He likes to do laps on my naked back in the morning.

Grandpa Hamish needs to stay out of the bedroom, I think.

Whelp. This is an entry of not very interesting photos, so I will have to get some better ones for youse folks tomorrow.

We're gonna road trip soon, so there will probably be long stretches where I am silent.

Just so you're warned...