A Northbound Train

The incredible coincidence of this post is that I'm actually on a train. One has to love that the world has become so wireless that this moving vessel can have full wireless access so that I am able to update this blog.

So, where am I off to, one might ask. Well, I am beginning this second leg of the journey heading north among rolling hills and tiny boroughs of the British landscape. I'm leaving the land of limeys, pence, boiled food and the Queen, and making my way to Scotland, home of haggis, kilts, bagpipes and violent sectarian soccer. After realizing I overpacked for this adventure, I forsook several shirts and a pair of shorts in Marion's closet. I probably should have parted with my DTH sweatshirt as it takes up a lot of room, but my love for it is too strong, and I've already lost it once, twice would be too much. Though I picked up a jersey, new toenail scissors (probably the fortieth pair I've ever bought), a combination lock, and a new book, I set out from the Boulicault's humble abode several pounds lighter (in both the monetary and weight terms), and I'm off to the second country in this wonderful, football-filled journey.

On that note, is Scotland a country? What is it's official designation. They're part of the United Kingdom, I know that, so they're not really a country. But at the same time, they, along with Wales and Northern Ireland get their own team in the World Cup (and European Cup for that matter). Scotland has it's own devolved parliament, but they still report to the England crown. So what are they?

And on that note, I'm just now realizing how far north Scotland is. Have you ever looked at it on a map? It's up there. I mean, it's not Greeland or Iceland or Sweden north, but it's up there.

Amazing that its going so quickly. I'm coming up on two weeks on Tuesday. But what's more amazing it how much further there is to go. I feel like I've been away for a while, but there's so much more, and I've barely scratched the surface. Several countries and even more cities yet to come, with no familiar faces until Germany. Also, no more privacy for a while as I move to hostels and dorm rooms (and even some sleeping on trains) for several weeks.

In honor of all the English teachers I've ever had I went and saw a show at the Globe last night. While it wasn't traditional Shakespeare, it was a traditional sixteenth-century good time nonetheless. I'm kind of glad it wasn't one of the long ones, because standing for three hours might have been difficult.

Anyways, keep sending me emails because I miss you all dearly, and will need to hear some friendly voices as this solo part of the trip begins.