A reminder that this blog is a personal diary and contains little of interest to anyone but me. I love it because it keeps a brief written and visual record of what I did. Without it I would forget. This a much shortened account of trip to Scotland to see Puffins, family and old friends.

I set off for the U.K. on 16 May. The trip starts pretty much as it is to go on. It is defined by my stupidity and incompetence. I leave my phone in San Francisco! This makes the next 3 weeks extremely difficult.

I stay briefly with Brother Ian and Sister in Law Ann who treat me royally.

My face swells up and I have a lot of pain. I know these symptoms well. Ian magically gets me a dentist appointment immediately. She says, ” Horrible rot, immediate extraction of molar.” I can’t face it, I chicken out; I am tired, jet lagged and have a complex journey ahead. My last molar extraction was gruesome, leaving me felling unwell for days. “Please just give me lots of antibiotics and painkillers to stabilise it.” She gives me a look of complete disdain but does as I ask.

I take a sleeper from London to Glasgow. The little cabin was perfect but I feel the entire line from Euston to Glasgow Central needs replacing. We rattled, swayed, juddered and shook all night resulting in no sleep.

I visit old St Andrews friends, Will and Barbara. It is wonderful to see them again.

Off I go to Mull, which is the principal destination of the trip as I yearn to see Puffins. The weather is beautiful and so is Mull in the Spring.

I take a boat out to the Treshnish Island to see Puffins. The weather is outstanding. You can see for miles and miles. Puffins are everywhere! Everyone should do this trip.

Fantastic trip! Shout out for ‘Turus Magna’, the outfit who runs the boat trips. https://www.turusmara.com

I visit learned the Alasdair Satchell https://thequietripple.com/2013/07/27/i-see-mull/ in his beautiful home near Dervaig. Alasdair produces a book that records all the ancient sites of Kintyre. It is a book that was much beloved by my Father and I spent many hours with it in my youth. He sells me a copy.

Things go wrong as I am unable to get a ferry from Mull to Oban. Apparently you should book weeks in advance. They need more boats as the uncertainty of not being able to reach the mainland makes the islanders lives very difficult. I have to shorten my intended stay on Mull so as to find a place on a ferry.

Every cloud has a tweed lining and I head South to Kintyre to weep on my parents’ grave.

I have the worst breakfast ever in Tarbert. I think everything had been cooked well in advance and then warmed up, even the egg. It was horribly dry and tasteless.

However it was a memorable event as I was too weak to unscrew the top of my little jar of marmalade. The slim, 15 year old waitress takes it from me and opens it with a negligent twist of the wrist.

” That’s amazing, you must be so strong!”

“Aye” says she, “I’ve had ma porridge.”

Train from Glasgow across the country to bonnie Montrose to stay with the wonderful, beautiful Zandra and her family. Such fun!

Disgustingly, my body has broken out in a disfiguring, very ichty, rash caused apparently by large doses of antibiotics. I scrape at it with bits of broken flower pot and it eventually goes away.

Train down to Dunbar to stay with Alison. She has organised a trip for me to the Isle of May https://www.nature.scot/enjoying-outdoors/visit-our-nature-reserves/isle-may-national-nature-reserve

Alison has much influence in Dunbar and gets me a place on a boat even though you usually have to book weeks, nay months in advance. Shout out to ,https://www.bluewild.co.uk lovely people.

Alison drives me into Edinburgh, where I stay with George and Jenny. I am so pleased that we all get on so well and take joy in each other’s company even after 50 years.

I fly down to London. Edinburgh Airport is a nightmare at 06:00. So many people, so few staff. I thought I was going to cry during boarding. People trying to force huge cases into overhead lockers, people shouting at each other, atmosphere of belligerence and competition. This is not Japan.

What a relief to arrive at the exquisite oasis of Sister Rosy and Brother in Law Barry’s beautiful house.

Rosy organizes a big family durbar in a Windsor restaurant. People I rarely get to see, all getting older some looking bigger, stronger, more beautiful; others smaller, weaker, less beautiful! Perfect weather, great food, great fun!

Back to Central London where Ian has magically booked another dentist appointment.

HERE IS A TRIGGER WARNING . HORRIBLE IMAGE OF EXTRACTED TOOTH. SCROLL PAST QUICKLY IF YOU DON’T LIKE THIS KIND OF THING.

The dentist eases my rotted tooth from my diseased jaw in shake of a lamb’s tail. I should of gone through with the extraction as soon as I arrived in London but was in the wrong mood.

Ian, Ann and I immediately rush to the National Portrait Gallery to look at photos by Julia Margaret Cameron https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julia_Margaret_Cameron. Fantastic stuff. Here we meet with old Okinawa pal Tim and have lunch at The Portrait restaurant, which is on the top floor of the gallery.

This is a fabulous restaurant https://theportraitrestaurant.com. Go there. We have a wonderful time.

Train to Milton Keynes to stay with eldest Brother Alan. Were he Catholic, Alan would already have been canonised. He is the kindest person.

Very old friend Roger https://thequietripple.com/2017/10/10/from-an-antique-land/ asks us for lunch at Balliol College. We eat in the Senior Common Room where I bump into another old buddy, Brian Foster.

I am now waiting for a plane back to San Francisco. What a trip.