Just back from a crash course in Edinburgh neighborhoods. Armed with a handful of apartment appointments and an A-Z Edinburgh street map, Mark & I have been around and around and zigged and zagged in all of E-burgh's faceted nooks. Determined to find an unfurnished 2 bedroom (with room for a guest futon!!) in an adorable area, I have severely gone cross-eyed from map reading while in a moving car. (not to mention highly pukey feeling on several occasions over speed bumps)
Alas, no slam dunk on finding the perfect spot to make our new nest, but thoroughly fell in love with several areas and have plenty of hope for a very nice place to come our way. I even found 10 Scottish quid in the street, which I take as nothing less then Manna from Heaven telling me that all is OK and will provide. After all, the sun was shining for 2 of the days and the car hire place upgraded us to a convertible! After 1 of those sunny days, we even figured out how to actually take the top down! (which I am not ashamed to admit, make me feel very cool.)
We will most likely make another trip north in order to get it right, but we are both giddy about the move. What a fantastic and pretty and fun city. And also calm, if you know what I mean. Buzzy but manageable. And no rest for the wicked. And it is a certain cure for post wedding(s) blahs. (when do we get a chance to have those???) I am just happy to have 2 days without being responsible for anything except personal hygiene. And even that is iffy.
Highlight of the E-burgh flat search 3 days was watching Mark after England's HARD won win in England v Trinidad/Tabago game ... in a Scottish Pub. Where no one wanted England to win. They were rooting for Trinidad because one of the players was actually named Jason Scotland. (the joke being that was Scotland going to the World Cup... har har har) For once Mark is going to be the less popular one... with all the years of England being cruel to the Scots and whatnow. I look forward to being the nice American since I have been the frowned upon American for far too long. And for once, I like the taxi driver to ask where I am from... (which happened in Scotland!) Hurrah!
It is weird for Mark -- the same, yet foreign. I guess it would be like me moving to Canada. Part of North America. Similar but different. And them being kinda irritated in living in the shadow of mean bigger neighbor.
So many fun and excited new things in store for us. Now can someone please just come and disassemble our crappy Ikea furniture and pack for me?