Oh the puffins, the puffins. Sad that we must leave you in our wake. Today we leave Iona and travel to Edinburgh. I am writing from the bus.
Last night I ran into a rough patch. Basically it was obvious we would soon be moving from pastoral ruralness to urbaness and all it entails. I was unsettled. As usual when this happens, I wanted to maintain my image of eptness or at least a modicum of interior calm. I was tired and I needed to pack up.
We had been advised to set our small dinner groups and make reservations via Open Table for the upcoming (in less than 24 hours) Saturday night in Scotland’s bustling capital. My kids will vouche for me when I say, I am good for nothing heady at night especially anything electronic.
Finally I asked for help. What a concept!
Jacinta, Kathy, Maris, Elizabeth, Fons and others all played parts in setting up great plans for me, my buddy, and “the sisters”—our eldest pilgrims. I became excited again, full of anticipation (in a good way) and ready for the city lights and energy.
(Later on bus) Now it is becoming obvious that we’ll likely arrive too late for dinner out.
(Later, still on the bus) And now our tour company has wrestled this bull to the ground: In recognition of our late-arriving bus, they are treating us to either room service or dinner out. Our wonderful guide, Jacinta, has somehow secured the reservations!
Why did I ever waste an iota of this precious life on worry today?