Playing the tourist

The storytelling festival was wondeful. There were three women and one man who told stories—they just got up on stage and told the audience a story, simple and fantastic as that—and the women told stories from Indian myth and folklore, and the man told a Celtic myth. (His story was absolutely tragic. And he had a wonderful harpist accompanying his performance. It just about broke my heart.)

Then later than night Sunshinebucket was due in to the Edinburgh airport from Bordeaux, where she’s spending the semester. I’d given her the info for the shuttle that got me to my dorm at the beginning of the year and promised to meet her in the courtyard where they’d drop her off. I grabbed a book and went down there about twenty minutes before I estimated she would show up, just to be sure I wouldn’t miss her.

And then I stayed out there until almost 1:30 in the morning. Reading and waiting for her. And she didn’t show.

So I went back up to my room and checked the Ryan Air website for her flight details. Nothing. Her flight didn’t even show up when I put the number in. And the shuttle that was supposed to pick her up at their airport didn’t pick up when I called.

I wanted to go out and look for her, but what could I have done? Wander around the city center in the hopes of randomly running into her?

So at 2:30, I got up and began to get ready for bed, trying to throttle my panic and worry. And then my phone began to buzz. I dove for it, and it was her. :) Her flight was late, she’d had to take the city bus and borrow a phone. She was two minutes away, and I literally ran out the door to meet her.

That’s really been the only trouble we’ve had since Friday, though. We’ve been playing the tourist since then, taking pictures and visiting as many tourist-y places we can. We’ve done so much walking that we’re both exhausted. =P

Pictures to come!