I Can't Let You Do That, Nate...

First of all, I really must exclaim over how freaking cool this Yotel is! It’s like being in a freaking space station (or possibly an iPod…)! I absolutely love it, especially the space-age violet lighting... They should make college dorms like this… (and if you haven’t clicked on the link to their website yet, you really should.)

Nathan and I got up bright and early with the idea of running (not literally) back down to the Royal Mile to pick me up a girl-kilt. We did this will our full packs in tow, since we were supposed to be checked out of the house by 1000, and to Waverley train station by 1130. Once we started shopping around, however, I couldn’t find one that I felt justified in purchasing. They were all either expensive and overpriced, or cheaper but still overpriced considering the cheap fabric (not to mention the issue of finding my size and a tartan I liked), and when it came right down to it none of them really called my name. So I sulked for a while, then remembered a gorgeous rainbow moonstone and rose quartz necklace I’d seen at a vendor the other day, and dragged Nathan down to see if it was still there. If it wasn’t, I had the backup plan of buying a piece of jewelry incorporating green Scottish marble (from the vendor I’d previously purchased my true moonstone pendant from). Weeelllll, as it turned out, the vendors weren’t there at 0930. Nor were they there are 1000. Nathan was well and truly irritated with me by this point, so I pathetically submitted to heading down to the train station, where we verified the fact that our train didn’t leave until 1130. After a bit of wheedling (of which I am just a smidge ashamed) I coerced him into heading back to the vendor area one more time, with the caveat that if they still weren’t there he had the right to a free punch.

Fortunately for my arm, they were there. At least, the Two Skies people and their Scottish marble were, so after much dithering (my tiny fingers make it quite difficult to pick up rings at open air markets) we finally selected one flanked with silver trinity knots, and it was with great satisfaction that I allowed him to herd me back to the train station, where we were just in time to meet the others as they walked in.

The train ride was about four hours long, much of which Nathan and I passed in pleasant conversation with the elder Scottish ladies who sat across the table from us. Scots seem to be far more friendly than the English, as a general rule. Of course, that’s not entirely fair- the people in Portsmouth and Keswick were quite friendly- mostly it was the Londoners who were complete twats.

(One of the nice Scotttish ladies)


(Reading was the other way I passed the time.)

Once at King’s Cross we took the obligatory Hogwarts Express Photos, then scattered like light-exposed cockroaches.

(You always knew I was a witch, didn't you!)


(King's Cross, looking up.)

Nathan and I headed back to the National Gallery, where the coat-check people were assholes to me, and although it was clearly marked everywhere that the Galleries closed at 1800, they shut off the lights at 1730. We stubbornly stayed the course for a few more minutes, but finally gave up and left, bringing the grand total of our time spent in the National Gallery up to a robust fifty minutes. ::sigh:: I never did manage to see the Portrait Gallery…

In need of the kind of comfort that can only be provided by delicious food, we returned to Victoria and The Marquis (home of the only non-douche Londoner we’d met). Nathan had a steak, I indulged in Moroccan-spiced bangers and mash, and we each had a pint of the delightfully refreshing Kopparberg pear cider. Much mollified, we returned to Victoria Station, where we just so happened to run into another part of our cat herd, with whom we teamed up to hop on a train down to Gatwick. Sadly, no meeping people or erudite beggars made an appearance on that journey...

And so we return to the delights of the Yotel, which again- I cannot recommend enough. How brilliant to be already at the airport! How fun to have all sorts of special lighting and a moving bed and amazing shower!

(Coming down the hallway to our "pod". Yes, they call them "pods".)


(The bed in it's couch form, tucked conveniently out of the way.)


(Looking into the glass-and-mirror walled bathroom- the shower is on the right end.)


(Yet another mirror- hello Nate!)

All in all, an excellent way to finish up our holiday in the UK...