Day Fifteen of Twenty.
In proper Edinburgh style, we once again drank too much the night before. We had a strange evening, complete with shots of Avalanche (something I haven’t drank since Las Vegas with Stephanie), running from men with too many spaces between their teeth, eating at Burger King (very American, I know) and losing (and finding) Robert the Bruce, my take-home Scottish boyfriend.
This morning was the closest I came to having a hangover. Brutal. Mag got us up at 8am, way too chipper for someone who stayed out almost as late as we did. He wished us a well trip and we thanked him for the room, the tea, and the company this past week. Then we shoved all our crap in our suitcases and headed for Paris.
It was raining… big time. Sigh. I thought we would have escaped the rain. At least it was warm. By the time we got to our hotel we were sore and exhausted from dragging our luggage through the Metro, and starving.
To the supermarket!
We got home and feasted! The only downside was that we had no corkscrew for the wine. Ruby tried to push the cork in but no luck. It was our first, and only, night without alcohol on our entire trip. With the window to our 6th floor room open to the streets of the third arrondissement, sleep was welcome and came quickly.
Day Fifteen of Twenty. Bonsoir Ecosse. Je te donne un morceau de mon coeur… jusqu’a ce que nous reverrons.