The Bernard is Back

Pleased to be back in the US, and now that things are beginning to return to normal, I can turn my attention back on Ghosty: Trip No Further, the last book in the Ghosty trilogy. I've got 26,000 words so far, and a pretty decent first act. Now, the antagonist makes his move. I'm also adapting Antigone for stage.

I'm still processing the highs and lows of the trip, and I've compiled two preliminary lists, in no particular order:

What I most enjoyed about the U.K.
1. The museums, especially the British Museum and Tate Britain
2. The weather that was mild relative to the excruciating Indiana summer heat and humidity
3. The British Film Institute
4. Staffa Island
5. The Globe Theater

What I enjoyed least about the U.K.
1. Idiot pedestrians in London
2. Packing into a car on the Tube
3. Being away from my wife and family for 6 weeks
4. Hostel living
5. Hidden costs!

So, let's check out some new pictures. These are from Staffa Island.

Staffa

Staffa Island, population zero. Long ago, it was formed by a volcano, which exploded a couple more times, which led to its interesting tripartite structure. It's a little hard to get to; you have to charter a boat or get into a tour group chartering a boat. There's a good one that includes the islands of Mull, Iona, and of course, Staffa.

It rained the whole time. It was fairly cold. The sea spray was wet. The rocks were slick. I cracked my elbow when I slipped on one. I turned my ankle when I stepped in a hole hidden by some brush. I kept having to pull up my pants because my pantlegs had absorbed so much water. I nearly tumbled into the ocean at one point. The boat nearly left without me.

All that being said, totally worth it. Dream come true. You can totally see why Queen Victoria, Mendelsson, and Tennyson went potty over it.

By the way, if someone gets seriously hurt on the island (or near it, in the case of Miss Thammavongsa), he'd be airlifted to Glasgow, not Castlebay. Oops.

Lessons About Getting From Here to There

Rough day. I got up at three a.m., thinking that was plenty of time to get to Euston Station for a six o'clock train. I even prepared for it by riding the route the day before.

Lesson #1: The Underground in London is not 24/7. Before 6 a.m., you need to take the night bus. This isn't posted anywhere. You just need to know it.

Lesson #2: Trying to figure out bus schedules on the fly at 4 a.m. is very difficult. You stare at the local map, and all these individual bus stops dot the map like acne on a teenager's face. At some point in the future I will describe this in more detail, because it's actually a lot more complicated than I'm letting on.

Lesson #3: When you go to London, or anywhere in England for that matter, do be careful when you're looking at posted maps. Even when they have a "you are here" indication on them. I keep forgetting that they are never lined up with what is in front of you, as is typically the case in the US. It's a small difference, but a maddening one, when you realize you've wasted 20 minutes or more walking in the wrong direction.

Lesson #4: Remember that London doesn't have street signs per se. Usually, street signs are located on the buildings themselves. Usually. Sometimes they aren't. Of course, it gets really interesting when street names change on you. This usually only happens every few blocks, though.

So I missed my train by a half-hour. But, keep calm and carry on, I'm here now. I booked a boat tour of the Inner Hebrides, and tomorrow...Staffa Island. Hooray!