Driving on the left

Liverpool Cathedral

We are in Edinburgh now, right smack in the middle of the city, surrounded by castles, spires, cathedrals, and a lot of restaurants and shops. We suffered jet lag through Liverpool, but enjoyed the Beatles Taxi Tour, and the sights of that city. Young John is blogging the trip, check out http://johnvsuk.blogspot.com/.

I went on a training hike Saturday of 3-4 miles, not sure since I forgot the pedometer, but it certainly had some beautiful vistas of Edinburgh. I ended up hiking up the Salisbury Crags and Arthur's seat, pretty challenging and certainly got my hip's attention.

Salisbury Crag

I have had to make a change in my prednisone dosing, 40 mg every other day, and with that change, jet lag, and 9:30 sunset and 5:30 sunrise I am totally whacked out of kilter. It's 12:40 am right now, and I woke last night at 4:00 am, and got back to sleep until 9:30 am. One effect of this is that I broke my mouth clutch and have managed to tick off just about everyone. I have to go off by myself, and since we only have 2 sets of keys to the apartment, I then have to roam Edinburgh until I stumble into a family member with keys. The clutch is in the shop, hopefully fixed today.

Driving in the UK is on the left, as we all know, and it sounds simple enough, but it is very difficult to override 40 years of driving the other way. Some of the roads from Liverpool to Edinburgh were 2 lane and narrow, and pretty hairy in spots with big lorries (trucks) coming the other way. The only vehicles that can't seem to stay on their side are the size of a Toyota Yaris. We are driving a Ford Galaxy, a smaller van which is pretty nice. Diesel.

The driving thing has always been a bone of contention between Dana and me, a control issue that we all probably feel when we don't have it. Driving is an act of faith, faith that all the other drivers are sober and staying on their side, faith that the road engineers have marked things like no passing where they should, faith in my ability to remember I am in Scotland. We diverted from the major highway, the M6, to a series of 2 lane roads. These roads are narrow enough that when one of those lorries is coming at you, the vegetation is hitting the mirror on the passenger side. Some of these lorries are farm vehicles with giant tires, and it is pretty tight.

I am driving these roads at or below the speed limit, mostly 40 mph, but every time the going gets tight, I hear a variety of gasps, whoas, and mostly commands from the wife. Interspersed in this are the additional commands to pull over for a picture of a cow or sheep, especially if they have long eyelashes or dreadlocks. In the worst of this I have to pull over and tell everyone (except John who has said nothing, nerves of steel) to shut up, they aren't helping, I have driven about 500,000 miles with only 3 minor fender benders, none in the last 15 years. This includes driving in Spain, Italy (crazy), Greece (really crazy), Yugoslavia, Germany (fast), Austria, Mexico and France (Arc de Triomphe roundabout was fun).

Further, we have all been taught to veer right if things look bad, and that deeply ingrained behavior will spell disaster here, and I am fighting it. So I have to decide, do I piss off all the locals and drive like the tourists in Morro Bay, who go 15 when the speed limit is 25 (already slow), or do I keep up with the locals, some of whom are clearly on meth? I think somewhere in between.

I loaded the GPS (Garmin 350) with UK and Ireland maps before we left, and as soon as we switched it to local time, the lady (Mrs. Garmin?) changed to the local accent and I couldn't understand anything. John fixed her back to a US accent. She really struggles in the city, not knowing about no right or left turns. This morning I had to go retrieve the car from where it was parked for the weekend. It was already a tricky journey, because I woke at 7:45, and had to get the car out of there by 8:30, and it was about a 20 minute walk.

This normally would be no problem, except that I doubled my Metamucil (fiber laxative) dose last night. In an effort to clear the system I had a coffee, but no luck, so at 8:20 I started my jaunt. Guess what a good mile hike does to the system? Right, things are loosening up on me. So I get in the car, turn on Mrs. G (she loves me), and she sends me in a 270 degree path back to the apartment. She keeps telling me to take illegal turns. Everyone in Edinburgh that has a job is on the street, either walking, biking, or driving, and I do not need the extra challenge of Mrs. G. messing up, but eventually I get here, mostly because I ignore a lot of what she says. I have already walked all of these routes and don't really need her, but turn her on so she won't feel bad.

One thing I have to say is that Edinburgh is trying to outdo Liverpool in how much trash and broken glass is everywhere. The governments have cut pay of the workers here because of the crap economy, and they are flipping the bird back in their own way. A services strike is planned soon, and I hope we don't see it. I imagine there is always a problem with the drunkards trashing things, but it is verging on mayhem. The trash bins are overflowing, the garbage isn't getting picked up, and it is going to get worse with some huge events coming up, like the Highland games. Which reminds me, Crosby Stills Nash and Young played the Castle Commons on Saturday, wished I had known they were there. Oh well.

I did a lot of walking again Sunday; the Kings Mile, the Princes Road, the Scotland Museum, and getting lost until I found some family members in the National Museum. Family tension is pretty high, but we are working our way through it. Check John's blog for pics of Mike having his first beer. It is kind of sad that I cannot have a drink with the kid, as my liver numbers continue to go up. I need to limit Ibuprofen and Aleve also, so I am left with no painkillers. Crikey mates.

Mike and I on the King's Bridge