Oh, cat, don't fly away again. My head's killing me.

I didn't post from Scotland but I have an excuse - a tour guide who saw to it that I had NO energy at the end of each day. Thanks to hantsbear I got a great if exhausting first taste of Edinburgh, and every evening when we got back to the hotel, I collapsed into a stupor unconducive to blogging.

Now I'm in the BLOC hotel at Gatwick, with a window out onto the runways, so I can see planes taking off - still about 5 hours until my flight out. Rainy and gray (grey?), but the hotel is right in the terminal, so I don't have to go outside even for a second. Pretty minimal digs, the "shower" is just the bathroom once you've closed the door, and half the rooms don't have windows at all (ick). This is a repurposed office building; these were cubicles. Still, cheap and convenient.

Lots of adventures I'm still savoring. I got to see "the Tempest" in the new Sam Wanamaker Theatre, which is modeled on the indoor theaters of Shakespeare's day, and (for the performance) is illuminated ONLY by candlelight. Super cool. My train out that evening wasn't until 11:30pm, so the hotel clerk suggested I leave my bags with them and enjoy the city a bit more -- I took the Tube to Picadilly Circus, and on a whim got a cheap ticket for a ventriloquist show (this gal, the monkey was particular fun). London rulez.

As does the Caledonian Sleeper, the night train I took up to Edinburgh, though I was of course sleeping through most of it, it was dark, and the train track seems to run through a trench most of the time. Nonetheless, even my first glimpse of Edinburgh was stunning -- with the ancient buildings on the rugged crags right in the heart of the town, there are few cities with more distinct a skyline. I took the very new (2014) tram out to the airport and collected Steve, and we celebrated with sushi and gyoza, in the traditional Scots manner.

Saturday was the Edinburgh Zoo, which has pandas, penguins, lemurs, meerkats and KOALAS! Only koalas in the UK. I could spend hours there. Kind of want to, since the koalas are at the very back and very top of a very steep hill, so once you're up there you'll want to make it last. Yeah, there were pandas too.

After Zoo, to the heart of the city and Edinburgh Castle. Afterwards, back on Princes Street, I looked up at the height and thought, "I walked up THAT?" but I did, and it was worth it. Then to a fairly posh restaurant in what seems to be the hipster quarter, and Haggis Wellington.

Haggis. Heard of it for years, very curious, in spite of Groundskeeper Willie's description of it... always assumed it would be a bit runny and oily, like that little pellet of white fat that's always in every can of pork and beans, and you TRY to eat it but you excuse yourself and spit it out into the toilet. An acquired taste. But NO. I like haggis. It's dark, for one thing, kind of grainy, and very salty, with a nice tang. "You do realize that was on the breakfast buffet this morning," Steve told me, and I kind of had realized that, but I wanted the first taste to be SERVED, not just grabbed from a counter. Once that line was breached, mind you -- for the next 2 mornings, I piled haggis on my breakfast plate. I'm a fan. Perhaps even a cult member. I may form Haggis Eating Kia Soul Owners and combine my two great loves into one movement. HEKSO!

We had more fun on Sunday -- I'd mentioned my obsession with the Forth Rail Bridge (ever since "the 39 Steps" really), and Steve said, "let's go" -- bought us return tickets to a random down on the north side of the Firth, so we crossed the Bridge twice. I would never have thought of that. My OCD approach to such things would require an actual destination on the other side, even if just a restaurant or bookstore, but Steve's right, and now we've crossed the Forth Rail Bridge! After that we headed back to the town center and rode a hop-on/hop-off tourist bus to see other sides of the city, which filled up an hour until it was time to meet Steve's friend Colin, who is a great fellow, and with whom we gabbed with little regard to time until dinner approached and we had to part ways.

Steve and I hit the Zoo again and visited the koalas on Monday, since his flight & my train were both in the afternoon; got rewarded by rather a lot of activity from the males (the lone female was in the exact same spot she had occupied on Saturday, still glaring down). Then a sad parting, and the Virgin East Coast Train back to London.

I have had a great time on this trip, but my favorite parts were the meetings -- linuxcub in Copenhagen, hantsbear and Colin in Edinburgh. My normal travel is rather solitary -- ride a train on my own, go to shows on my own -- but the company of great people will be happiest memories from this jaunt.

In a few hours, off to LAX, and then transfer to Southwest to get home to Oakland. I'm brining my own snacks!

Last night in Copenhagen! But I only had two, barely a taste. I like this better than Stockholm, but that may be because I got to spend time with a wonderful friend, linuxcub, but the city in general feels friendlier. Flatter, that's for sure, and I'll get a bike next time I'm here. Today was a repeat of my full Stockholm day in the sense of riding the hop-on/hop-off tourist bus and then taking a nap. Tonight, a production of "King Lear" that was advertised as "in German with Danish subtitles" but was actually in Danish, though one guy spoke English or French depending on which character he was playing.

Tomorrow, off to Hamburg, on the special train that rides its own ferryboat! I anticipate a good deal of knitting while riding a train that's riding a boat. I will get a bicycle next time I do this.

Here I am in Sweden! And I know I'm in a foreign country because I've already pissed off a convenience store clerk, which I never do in the United States.

The impetus for the trip was my wonderful friend hantsbear, who wanted to show me Scotland, and the clincher was the newish airline Norwegian Air Shuttle, which flies direct to Europe from Oakland airport at insanely low prices. I booked with some anxiety, but the flight was good; I paid extra to get the exit row seat, which had ample leg room but (because TV and tray were in the armrest instead of the non-extant seat in front) were narrow. Opera upper balcony narrow. I fit but nobody bigger than me would. The entire cabin crew was of east Asian origin, and spoke as little as possible.

Now at the ominously-named Hotel Terminus, across the street from the Central Station. I did try to walk about a bit, but so creaky from the 10-hour plane ride that I moved slowly & didn't get far, but got to see why it's compared to Amsterdam - water everywhere, though the architecture is more monolithic. This has obviously been a center of power for centuries. Tomorrow I will be riding the "hop on hop off" bus to the various sights, in particular the ABBA Museum. Then I have a ticket to see Moliere's "the Miser" performed in Swedish. When everybody else laughs, I'll laugh.

Very little news -- traveled with Steve & Steve to Bradford-on-Avon to visit Steve's father & get ready to tour Bath tomorrow. Relaxing time. I am trying to photograph every food I eat that has a funny name. Tonight, Bangers & Mash. I will post the photo when I figure out how.

Oh, title refers to a large block of flats by the Avon River that doesn't fit at all with the 15th-Century surroundings. What was the preservation society thinking?

Phase III has begun! I rendezvoused with hantsbear at the Victoria Station -- the Bus Arrivals station, mind you, since there seem to be about 15 different Victoria Stations -- and then went looking for food. (BTW Steve wants to tell you a story about the bus driver, but you'll have to wait for him to post it to his own blog.) "I know a wonderful Swedish cafe," sez Steve, "we can have a great lunch there. It's got a sign in the door saying CLOSED ON JUNE 2 -- WILL REOPEN JUNE 3. "How about a wonderful Vietnamese noodle place?" sez Steve, and we'd walked by it a minute earlier -- but when we got back the door was locked and the sign was flipped to say CLOSED SUNDAYS. Ah, but third time's a charm! We got to a street that was lined with open restaurants, and easily chose a charming French cafe with an attractive prix fixe menu.

Minutes after we ordered, smoke from a piece of toast in the kitchen set off the fire alarm. It took the hostess 20 minutes to turn it off. Every other customer left. We were the only customers remaining. We recommend this technique if you wish to get attentive service from French waiters. Oh, and the food was really good.

Our main even today was the Chelsea Opera Group's concert performance of Verdi's early and unloved Alzira. We had a few hours before the show, so Steve suggested we try the Nestene Conciousness London Eye, the giant Ferris wheel with glass globules. I was actually willing, but the line was hours long, so we didn't have time. [weeps softly] The concert was great, actually -- I was worried Steve might be bored, but I forget that even second-tier Verdi has a propulsive energy that is great fun, even if the plot never gets beyond an inane tenor/soprano/baritone triangle dressed up in Inca & Conquistador drag. Tonight's Inez was named Zuma.

We're back at the hotel, same one I was at on my own last night (coincidence!), and in the lobby, since there's no WiFi in the rooms. Seriously, Holiday Inn Express, is this the middle ages? Then off on rail & bus to Coalville, where our new adventures will begin.

Brief note tonight, since the otherwise ritzy hotel has internet ONLY in the lobby (wtf, in 2013?). I'm in Paris for a total of 17 hours 45 minutes, which once again proves that I am an incredibly stupid man. Should have just skipped it & gone on to London, where I'll have my first nap in a week tomorrow afternoon. For tonight, no show, no restaurant, just a store-bought sandwich in my hotel room and a good night's sleep, which should come easy after a walk up to Sacre Coeur and then back down through Montmarte. Those girls in the tiny black cocktail dresses would be freezing if they weren't drunk off their butts.

I did enjoy the extra hours in Marseille, though -- took the bus up to Notre Dame de la Garde, which has spectactular views of Marseille, the Vieux Port, the Chateau d'If and the Mediterranean beyond, and is windy as all hell. I also took the little toy ferry across the old harbor, all 206 yards of it. I think that thing is only running because it's in the Pagnol plays, which seem to be worshiped there.

Or you'd think -- I went into the tourist office and asked if they had a cafe set up to look ilke Cesar's cafe in the plays/movies, and the helpful clerk sent me a block uphill to a "very nice cafe, you will like it." I got there, and, yes, it's a very nice cafe. It's a cafe much like Cesar's cafe. Or like any cafe. I resisted the urge to march back into the tourist bureau and yell, "What did you think I was asking for? I want a TOURIST TRAP, dammit! I'm a TOURIST. I want to be TRAPPED, okay? If you were Venice you'd have FIVE of the damn things!"

Instead I bought three dishtowels. They fit in my bag, but it feels way heavier than from just adding three dishtowels. Maybe the guilt I'm carrying from almost abusing a tourist clerk.

Funny how we can panic when are denied a service that we did not have 10 years ago, that was pretty much inconceivable 20 years ago. How did your ancestors survive? Truth, of course, is a lot of them didn't. We're the product of millenia of natural selecction favoring skills required in a non-internet environment. Next generation is going to be soft, softer even than the Pennicillin Generation. I gotta lot of stuff saved up.

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Rainy, dreary Prague! I was hoping it would be less dreary this morning, but instead worse; I was planning on dropping my bag off at the train station and getting a walk around town, the Charles Bridge, the Kafka monument, the Dvorak museum, but it was so bleak and unpleasant, and I could not for my life find the lockers at the train station, that when I saw a non-stop for Vienna was leaving in 40 minutes, I thought screw this and bought a ticket on it.

A FIRST CLASS ticket, Rick Steves. Yes, I already had a pre-paid ticket on the 13:38 train but it was Second Class, and I think I learned that lesson. Also the earlier train is named the Antonin Dvorak, so who could resist.

The train ride from Prague to Vienna is pretty, half through forests and half through wide plains; not nearly as dramatic as yesterday's ride, and at 4 hours 45 minutes the first really long train ride I've had.

I've got to think of this trip as less making a meal of Europe as doing a tasting run, just little bites to figure out what I want to come back for someday & have the full course. Prague, yes, I'll visit again, but that was a tiny bite. Vienna, already bigger. I like Vienna. And by that I mean that I understand the subway system. I made a point to ride each of the 5 U-Bahn lines a little bit (U1, U2, U3, U4 & U6. What happened to U5? A deep mystery).

I also made a point of eating the local food, being Wiener Schnitzel. No relation whatever to the American hot dog chain. That stuff is omnipresent, especially since the Food Polizei eased up and allowed restaurants to call it "Weiner Schnitzel" even if they don't use veal. Which is fine with me because veal is murder. Yes, I know that all meat is murder, but veal is murder of the cute. I had Weiner Schnitzel vom Schwein from a sad little fast-food chain called SchitzelHaus, staffed by a sullen young Spaniard who couldn't wait to get back to his World of Warcraft. It was every bit as good as you'd expect, but you want me to spend real money on this?

I have one other task in Vienna, and a lot of time to do it, since my overnight train doesn't leave until VERY late tomorrow.

One last LAST post from Leipzig. Just got an email from Deutsche Bahn -- my train to Dresden is late! They want to make sure I know in case this would make me miss my transfer.

The train is 5 minutes late. I set up a 2-hour layover. Now it's only 1 hour 55 minutes. What will I do?

And I love Amtrak, but they don't even send you an email when the train is 5 Hours late. Which it often is.