August 11th, 2005

I Will Not Defame New Orleans.


Won’t get much pity from New Orleans folks when I say, “BRRR! It’s fuckin’ COLD in August!”

Here I sit, at Mercy’s window, through which is one of the most beautiful cityscapes ever invented, where Edinburgh is laid out below me like a great, 600 year old stone whore with lots of chimneys and slate tiles. That’s a mighty pretty whore!

Our travels are going deliciously so far. A couple days in Washington, the second spent mostly at the International Spy Museum, which entertained us for three more hours than I thought possible. There’s this cool little part in the museum where you climb some hidden stairs and crawl into an air conditioner duct. Scurrying along on hands and knees, you peer through the wall grilles and spy on other museum patrons. If only all A/C ducts were carpeted!

A long flight, made shorter by naps, Percoset, and more naps, alighted us safely in London the next evening. By the time we Tubed to Waterloo to Pablo’s, it was 11:30pm. All I desired in this world was a Guinness. A real English Guinness. “It’s 11:30. There are no pubs open,” Pablo sadly informed me. And I once again realized with acute pain how spoiled I am to live in New Orleans, where 11:30 isn’t an ending; it’s a jumping-off point!

Our weary host gave up his bed to us, and konked out, having a flight to Budapest at 3am. I’d feel sorry for him, except for the fact that his 3am travels will result in being in Hungary, and that has to be some consolation.

For our part, Ben and I woke up leisurely the next morning, Tubed to King’s Cross to catch a train to Edinburgh to stay with the Divine Miss Mercy. We have been here for two days now, in the throes of the Edinburgh Festival, the largest arts fest in the world, and lasting the entire month of August. We are awoken each morning by a little theatre troupe doing warm-up vocal woo-woo’s and wee-wee’s outside the window.

As we wander the curvind, steep streets, the cafés, the graveyards, Ben often remarks, “I love England!”

“Well, that’s nice, and I’ll tell Pablo. But what do you think about Scotland?”

“Oh, yah. This is okay too!”

Sketchy internet connection, so I’ll keep it short, and photos will have to wait until I’m finally home.

Waking up this afternoon, we’re off to coffee in a minute, then down to Holyrood Palace to soak in absolute splendor, then off to some shows with Mercy & Pals.

More when I find online access.