On board the MV Hrossey
Jun. 7th, 2019 06:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustStill in harbour in Aberdeen, but we are in the bar, I have wifi and a glass of cold pinot grigio, and soon we will set sail for Lerwick. The passenger announcement is promising "a relatively comfortable crossing."
We were awake bright and early, to mixed news: Labour had won the Peterborough by-election, and Doctor John had died.
Last-minute packing of last minute things: an overnight bag, the contents of the fridge, medication... I realised somewhere along the road that I had not packed the open jar of cherry curd: well, that will be something to look forward to on our return. More seriously, I can't find my phone: this doesn't count as forgetting to pack it, and it's not impossible that it may turn up in the car, or in a pocket somewhere. I'm philosophical about the possibility that I may have to replace it: it is very basic, and I have begun to wonder how long I could get away with it. But I'm in no hurry to upgrade, and I haven't given up hope.
We drove north up the A68, through soft green hills. I spotted one - just one! - poppy field, somewhere in Northumberland. Across the border at Carter Bar, and lunch at Main Street Trading in St Boswells: tomato soup, coffee and border tart (highly recommended) but without buying any books. Saint Boswell, or Boisil, was a monk at Melrose and taught Cuthbert, according to Bede.
More scenery further north, but I slept through much of it. It wasn't until we reached the port at Aberdeen, and were directed to do a u-turn on the approach road and wait to be called to join the queue, that I realised that this is not necessarily a sign of heavier than usual traffic: we have never taken the car on the ferry from Aberdeen before. Taken the car to Shetland, yes, taken the ferry from Aberdeen as a foot passenger, yes, but car from Aberdeen is a first. The process was quite laborious, but we have survived.
Time to go and investigate dinner: in another first, they seem to have done away with the rather good restaurant, so it's self-service, but the menu looks fine.
We were awake bright and early, to mixed news: Labour had won the Peterborough by-election, and Doctor John had died.
Last-minute packing of last minute things: an overnight bag, the contents of the fridge, medication... I realised somewhere along the road that I had not packed the open jar of cherry curd: well, that will be something to look forward to on our return. More seriously, I can't find my phone: this doesn't count as forgetting to pack it, and it's not impossible that it may turn up in the car, or in a pocket somewhere. I'm philosophical about the possibility that I may have to replace it: it is very basic, and I have begun to wonder how long I could get away with it. But I'm in no hurry to upgrade, and I haven't given up hope.
We drove north up the A68, through soft green hills. I spotted one - just one! - poppy field, somewhere in Northumberland. Across the border at Carter Bar, and lunch at Main Street Trading in St Boswells: tomato soup, coffee and border tart (highly recommended) but without buying any books. Saint Boswell, or Boisil, was a monk at Melrose and taught Cuthbert, according to Bede.
More scenery further north, but I slept through much of it. It wasn't until we reached the port at Aberdeen, and were directed to do a u-turn on the approach road and wait to be called to join the queue, that I realised that this is not necessarily a sign of heavier than usual traffic: we have never taken the car on the ferry from Aberdeen before. Taken the car to Shetland, yes, taken the ferry from Aberdeen as a foot passenger, yes, but car from Aberdeen is a first. The process was quite laborious, but we have survived.
Time to go and investigate dinner: in another first, they seem to have done away with the rather good restaurant, so it's self-service, but the menu looks fine.
