The flight Bobbie and I had booked was operated by Thomas Cook. The flight was 8 1/2 hours direct from Vancouver to Glasgow. The airplane itself was an older Airbus 320. The video system was broken and there were signs of old carpets and worn seats. AND THIS WAS IN THE PREMIER CLASS SECTION! So we spent the time trying to read, squirming in the seats to get comfortable, admiring the ice fields in the ocean below, and waiting for the next meal to arrive.
I will say this for the company -- the amount of booze that was offered free to us and for sale in the duty free was amazing. If I had taken them up on it all I would probably not have noticed the little stuff. All in all it was a typical flight. You've all seen the inside of airplanes so I won't bother posting pics.
And then we arrived in Glasgow, where the border agent seemed to feel it was humorous that a kilt maker was traveling to Scotland -- something along the lines of "taking coal to Newcastle".
I'm sorry but there are no pics of the first three hours of our stay in Scotland. First due to us finding out that our phones were not working. It seems that our Canadian cell phone service provider does not think it necessary to provide automatic International roaming. I don't know why they don't. After all, I posted here that I was making the trip. Did they think that I would remember to go all the way to their offices and sign up for that stuff?
I'm really going to have to have a talk with them about this. How do they think I'm supposed to check on the 26 emails I get a day offering to sell me Rolex watches for $20.00? How am I supposed to answer all the calls from customers wanting to know where their Kilts are?
In the end there was nothing to do but to turn our phones off and forge on with the trip. I felt like I was on a turn of the century safari to darkest Africa.
It also meant that I would have to spend the next 14 days talking to my wife. Oh the horror. Oh the deprivation.
We now come to the affair of the previously booked and paid-for rental car.... It was explained to us that the rental car agency was out of rental cars for a few hours -- we were asked (politely, I must say) to come back later. This was not a hardship for us, but really ticked off several other people in the queue! We found an internet connection to let the shop, the house, etc., know about being incommunicado, and we were able to get a cup of coffee (but I have to say finding a Starbucks in a Scottish airport a bit disconserting) When we did come back, a Scoda was waiting for us....Scoda. What's a Scoda? I know about Chevies, I know about Dodge pick-ups. I've even heard about those foreign things they call BMWs. But what's a Scoda? Oh well, at least they didn't try to give me one of those things I saw that said Ford on it but looked like one of those shoes little kids have with the roller skate wheels in the bottom.
I swear, that's exactly what they look like.
And to top it all off this Scoda they gave us had a serious factory defect. Someone had installed the steering wheel on the wrong side.
I'm not even going to mention the roundy things they drive on over there. I saw a lot of them. Many for three or four times each as I went around and around trying to find out how to get off.
Let me just say this. It became my mission in life to teach the Scots and English the proper side of the road to drive on. I drove normally on the right side. After a while the other drivers would veer over to to their right side. Hopefully they learned their lesson and will do it correctly from now on. It is for sure I gave them enough of a lesson.
I certainly hope you set them straight on proper driving patterns. 
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