Our last morning in London started with a leisurely breakfast at the Portobello Hotel. Gareth was delighted with his eggs and soldiers, which after some brief instructions on how to properly consume, he did so with gusto. We were accompanied by a young couple with two small children; I remain delighted by British accents (Geordie in this case) emanating from a tiny, high-pitched source.
After checking out, we made our way to King's Cross, where we were to take the 11:30 to Edinburgh.
Which is where a bit of adventure started.
We made it to the station with ample time to spare; specifically, enough time to catch an earlier line. In hindsight I should have realized this was a bad idea for two reasons: first, we were in unreserved seats, which meant trying to locate these amidst the chaos of boarding, unadvisable in the final minutes when most are seated; second, the earlier route had more stops, and would not arrive appreciably later, something j should've remembered from booking. We spent the first 20 or so minutes penned in the no-man's land at the end of cars reserved for the lost souls who cannot find seats. Fortunately, the railway service is well aware of this phenomenon and has people whose job it is to locate and re-home these castaways. The downside of this mercy is that G and I have been split up for the time being. As I write this, I observe that the seats across from me, occupied by two women obviously traveling together, will become available at Newcastle. I shall pounce there!
Alas, it was not meant to be. Not only were none of the seats actually available, my own seat had been mis-marked and I was evicted by a brusque middle aged woman with a terrible peroxide job. I now am banished back to the lost souls' area, which has only increased in size over the course of our journey.
I finally found another seat on the last leg of our journey, from Newcastle to Edinburgh. I joined G and we whiled away the final hour-and-a-half talking. I've enjoyed my time with him so much.
I'd forgotten the magnificent view of Holyrood as you walk up the long ramp of Waverley station. Unfurling our newly purchased umbrellas, we gazed as we waited for a cab. It was as you'd guess raining, and Old Town is quite hilly aside from that.
Finally after a bit of a wait we were in our rooms at the Leonardo. After u ravelling the mystery of why the light didn't work (the room was equipped with a master switch enabled by the room key card), we settled in and went out for dinner at the nearby Piccolina, and had a fantastic meal.
