When I got back from Stirling, I visited the National Gallery, which was an art museum in Edinburgh. I got there about 30 minutes before it closed. It was full of neo-classical art.

I left the gallery, walked up a few blocks and grabbed an early dinner. It was a nice little place called Abbottsford. I had a pint and steak pie, which was delicious. By the time I finished my food and drink, it began to sprinkle. I was really tired and decided to head back home for a nap. Trust me, it was a much-needed nap. Afterward, I prepped for my trip to Glasgow.


The following morning was a dreary day. The kind you want when your only plans are to stay in bed and sleep. I laid in bed longer than I should have because I was still so tired. My nap kept me from going to sleep that night, so I didn’t get as much sleep as I needed. I finally jumped up, grabbed my bag, and ran downstairs. According to my bus app, the bus was two minutes. When I got outside, according to my eyes, the bus was leaving the bus stop. I was still a bit foggy and tired, which is not the best time to take off in a sprint. I ran a quick quarter mile after the bus and I caught it. Out of breath and starting to sweat, I got on the bus and waited for the bus to arrive to the train station.

Traffic was an absolute mess. My train left at 8:34 am. It was extremely slow going. I knew I wouldn’t make the train in time, not with how slow the bus was going and stopping every 100 feet. The bus was not moving, but was relatively close to the train station, so I got off. After I got off, I realized I was still a good ways away from the station, but it didn’t really matter. It was 8:34 am. My train time had passed and so I just walked.

I got to the station and changed to the 9 o’clock train to Glasgow. And I could have sworn the attendant said platform 13 (I think you know where this is going). I grabbed coffee and a pastry and sat down. At 8:55, I walked to platform 13. Got on the train, sat down, and started writing in my journal. The intercom came on and named the stops it would make; Glasgow did not make the list. I got up, put the stuff back in my bag and jumped off the train. I asked the attendant if the train was going to Glasgow. It was not. About 15 seconds later, it left. Dodged a bullet there.

I sat for the 9:15 train at platform 13. By the time I left, it was 9:45 am, leaving from platform 11. I am an absolutely incredible traveler.