Day 1...or 2...or...whatever

We arrived in Scotland today via Dublin -- not a real winner of a situation, and even survived the
"Fun" of a flight on Ryanair, aka the cheapest airline in Europe. :)

But to remind the readers of what's going on here, I am in Scotland at St. Andrews (the above mentioned home of golf) with my 3 brother-in-laws, in part to commemorate their father, Bubba, but also to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  So far, the Hoosiers seem to think it is (if I hear one more joke about the British currency, the pound, and "pounding it", I'll scream!).

For faithful readers of this blog, and no you are out there, all one of you, here's your food porn shot du jour.

However, this is definitely NOT a food porn trip.  When I suggested Indian food, I was told they ate only Indiana food (if you tire of this kind of joke, stop reading here) and I was told that Indian food tasted like a**.  I did not, though I wanted to, ask how the speaker knew what a** tasted like.

But first, the hustle of getting here.

The trip from home to JFK was not bad, with JP, the youngest, navigating on Google maps, knowing when the traffic snarls or "red spots" were coming.  Except for one bad spot coming off the Verrazano Bridge onto the Belt Parkway, we did fine.  But, OC, I was misguided by where we were parking (reserved a spot) -- "cheapAirportParking" turned out to be "JFK long term parking" and we had to circle through more traffic than a Hoosier's ever seen to get back to the place, with oldest bro law Butch calling to get directions.  Everyone had to powder their nose (this will be the euphemism till
another comes along) before being shuttled to JFK.  The driver, who we could barely understand, drove like Mario Andretti in this beat up old shuttle bus -- imagine some G forces as he accelerated onto the Belt Parkwa -- and slung us up to the Delta check in area.  There a guy, Carl, asked if we wanted to check in curbside and we did.  Bags?  One bro law says these two and Carl says "why you checking that bag?! It gonna cost you $100."  Well, on Carl's encouragement, 3 of us carried our bags on and JP, aka the clothes whore, had to check his 47 lb camouflage-colored bag.   Yes, for $100.  Yes, some a** burn.

To security, where we wizzed through -- JP timed it as 25 minutes from gettin on shuttle to being through security.

Then we ate.  $22 Cobb salads.  The BEST Cobb salad any of us had eaten.  Turns out it was pretty good, but no one is ever prepared for NYC prices.



Then on the plane.  No problem.  The trip was a little up and down but we were into a misty, foggy Dublin a few minutes early.  Our bags all came and then we stood in line to get through customs.  Easy enough.  But now to find Ryanair and check in.   Turns out Ryanair is in the other terminal.  About a quarter mile walk from where we were (remember, none of us has slept much and we are pulling our golf bags and our luggage).  fortunately, JP will ask for directions (what's w that?!?!?!).

Then we waited at Ryanair, where I'd already paid for two bags.  But we had to take the golf bags to "oversized luggage" where one guy was working grudgingly.   It was now 1030 and our flight left at 1235.  We had discussed going into to Dublin -- none of others had been -- but this trip I guess they'll have to say they've "been to Dublin" and mean the airport. ):


After a cup of coffee, we went through security, but this time they decided that the travel size Axe in other bro law Mikey's bag was a terrorist weapon!!! So he got held up for a few minutes and there was an exchange and he we went on.

The RyanAir experience was not to be missed.  The plane wasn't at the gate AFTER the time when we were supposed to start boarding.  And they called Zone 1 to board anyway?!?!?!!?!?  They were stopped on the Tarmac and waited until the plane arrived and the passengers deplaned but we actually passed each other on the Tarmac in the swap.  While standing there we watched most of our bags on the conveyor into the plane, so we were pretty sure we were going to have out stuff in Edinburgh.  (I tried to get Mikey to pronounce it like the natives -- "Ednburra" -- but he wasn't sure.  And he said "see she said it like I did" and I pointed out that the flight attendant he was using as his ideal was a non-native English speaker. :).


Bing bang, we were through customs in Edinburgh, but like Dublin we had to walk a long ways to the "car rental centre."  Butch repeated a line from Dublin "are we walking back from here?"  The people at AVis couldn't have been nicer – kudos to them.  But we had to fold the middle of the middle seat in a Ford Galaxy van (twice the size of everything around it) to get everything into the back.

Admittedly, I started using my left foot on the brake and we held up everyone in the Avis parking lot as we packed all 12 bags of gear (4 golf bags, 4 suitcases , 4 personal bags), and away we went, with JP navigating (maybe a bit too much – “follow that car there “ pointing, then “no, I meant left here.”  Everyone else was freaked out about driving along on the left side of the road (I should have been), maybe more so as I kept making the tiger stripes chirp on the left side (where the heck is the right side of the car in this my brain kept asking), then there was running over a serious of orange
construction cones, with the left side, and then there was running over two curbs on tight turns – on the left side.  See a pattern here?

But we took the scenic route most of the way to St. Andrews, along the Firth of Tay (for whom JP’s daughter is named, so I have heard) – JP took many pictures, and kept saying “I’m going to wonder what these are of, or where I was…”

Then to St. Andrews.  I took us down to the Old Course, which is closed on Sundays, to see it.  There we found hundreds of people milling about, just walking, playing the par 3 course adjacent, or enjoying the 14 degree day (Celsius, of course) – with 15 mph wind off the water.  It was NOT warm.
Requisite picture.  More from here tomorrow, as we play as of 1130.

Then to the house – yet another worry in the travel plans, which turned out to be very nice and in town.  St. Andrews is not huge.

Then we walked to the nearest pub for dinner (remember, NO INDIAN FOOD).  And home for two games of euchre, won by the youngsters.  Notably, the oldsters actually fell asleep sitting at the dinner table!  Just for a moment, mind you.  I have walked, acc to my Fitbit, 21,000 steps yesterday and 15,000 today.

After two days, I can say this: I know WAY too much about the others’ bathroom habits and needs.  And way too much about what they brought for underwear.  And, although we ARE in Scotland and I do well a fair amount of Brook Bros (whose logo is a sheep being weighed), I have heard WAY too much about sheep – Butch claims to have a t-shirt that says “accept no sheep substitute.”  I am still trying NOT to cope with that idea.

And, on that rather troubling note, I leave you readers with day 1, 2 or whatever it was…since none of us know what day it is or what time it is, etc.  Happy Mother’s Day.