My stomach is gurgling, my mouth is dry and it’s still more than 6 hours to take off for Edinburgh, Scotland. Before I even get on the plane, I have a two hour drive from Fort Pierce to Orlando’s airport, and then an almost three hour wait for take off.
I’m packed (note: limits for European take on luggage are slightly smaller than US limits). I’ve taken a shower again because I’m going to be traveling for about 24 hours straight.
I found a place on the beach in Edinburgh. I’ll bet you’re thinking, “There’s a beach in Edinburgh?” That’s exactly what I thought when I saw the first photo of an apartment on Airbnb overlooking sand and water. I, of course, waited until the last minute (honestly sometimes I think I work best that way), so finding a place to stay was fairly melodramatic.
I was “declined” by the first place I requested. It stung like personal rejection, but once I had time to think about it I realized it was for the best. Diving back into the Airbnb pool required staying up almost all last Thursday night/Friday morning communicating with hosts in Europe. Sites were being snapped up quickly. After another decline (“I just booked it”), I found a place that looks out onto the shore.
Edinburgh looks to be rainy and chilly while I’m there. A great contrast to Austin and Florida. I got a warm sweater and boots for going out and exploring. And I plan to use the moody atmospherics for some writing.
I finally feel excited. Or I’m just nauseated. One or the other. I’m not 100% sure.