I spent most of yesterday in perpetual motion.
Arrived in Edinburgh yesterday, after long flight and a rather ungraceful hike through the different terminals of Arlanda airport.
Flew in to Terminal 1 (did not know this); hurried over to Terminal 5, thinking "must fly from international wing"; nice lady behind information counters sends me back Terminal 2.
Stopped in Terminal 1. Mistook it for Terminal 2. Tried to check in at the Norwegian Air domestic flights kiosk.
Nice people behind the information desk sent me on my way towards the real Terminal 2, a good ten minute trek from current location.
Finally arrived in Edinburgh. Greeted by Natalie. Took a bus into city. We walk--luggage in hand--through cobble-stoned streets for ten minutes, to Francis's house. Dropped off things. Off to Tesco for groceries. Back home. Francis has promised to take us by car to Natalie's place. Piled everything into car. Car won't start. Car dead. Piled groceries into luggage. Carried the rest. Walked three blocks to Nat's flat. Climbed three flights of stairs. Collapsed.
"You know, Natalie, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to kill me."
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