Since I arrived, every day has been go, go, go. I woke up to sun this morning and decided it was time for some sightseeing. Troon is only 45 minutes away, so off we went. A beautiful drive through the countryside with minimal stresses (when will driving in this country ever not be stressful?). We started with a walk along the docks, past the yacht club, past what seemed to be a lumber mill(?), and over to the Wee Hurrie fish & chip shop where I had a mug of soup and Scout had a chat with a sea lion. But I wanted a bit more lunch so we went into the “dug friendly” Harbour Inn. I love that dogs are welcome at (some) pubs in the U.K.!

Then off to the seawall walk where Scout was in heaven. We couldn’t go down to the tidal pools because the tide was coming in, but it was a glorious day and we walked for miles and miles along the shore all the way to a sandy beach. Scout and I were both completely content – no worries about car insurance, or finding a place to live, or the expenses of hotels and rental cars – just salty air and sunshine.

What a great way to wrap up our first week in Scotland.

I knew when I moved here I would spend a fair amount of time up front converting things mentally: miles to kilometres [1.6](why, after having converted everything else to metric, would the Brits hold on so tight to miles? baffling); GBP£ to CAD$ [1.7]; pounds to stones [14], and even dining out [about 2:1]. Oddly, groceries right now seem to be running about par. Most of my meals at present are Tesco sandwiches or John West Lunches on the Go, and they seem to be about the same price as similar products at Longos or Loblaws. I do know a point will come where I will just start thinking in the new measurements, but not quite there yet.

The one conversion I hadn’t anticipated, but which is turning out to be a constant is ETAs. When my TomTom says it will take 32 minutes to arrive somewhere, I now know to convert that by about 1.7 (much like the currency) and that I will be there in about 55 minutes. That is not entirely my fault. I think TomTom needs to be held responsible for about 30% of that: it’s an offline GPS, working from downloaded maps. And when, for example, the on-ramp to the A74 south was closed for construction and I was forced to head north to Glasgow on my way home last Thursday, I suppose we can’t really blame TomTom for that. (Altho, as I wended my way through Bothwell, Uddingston, Bellshill, and Craigneuk before ultimately getting back on track in Wishaw, it was hard not to). And the UK road systems are accountable for some degree for my extended travel time – why oh why don’t Brits label their roads? They seem to think that if you are coming from a smaller road (usually labelled) to a larger one, you instinctively will know the name of the larger street?!?! FFS.

But yes, I think it is fair to say that 60% of my driving overtime is my fault. What with mis-counting exits at round-abouts, an unwillingness to make right turns in rush hour traffic, and the fact that the skies are overcast more often than not, screwing up my sense of direction, I have spent a great deal of time on the Lanarkshire road system craning my neck to see the next turn and waiting for Kevin, the Aussie voice in my TomTom, to re-calibrate and re-instruct after each misstep on my part.

Ah well, all part of the greater adventure.

It had not occurred to me that my uncle would have zero access to the internet (although to be fair, his daughter had given me a head’s-up – it just hadn’t fully registered how devoid of connectivity I would be).  I had the NHS chasing me for my Day-2 COVID test, the car dealership asking for my input on car choices, the Animal Transport company providing updates on Scout’s progress across three countries, and 25+ friends and family all asking how I was and where I was and, most importantly, how Scout was.  And no way to deal with it. 

Thank heavens for a kind next door neighbour who let me sit in her front room and/or front garden and use her wifi on and off for the next 2 days. 

But, boy oh boy, people were getting antsy to hear updates (again, the interest centered mostly around the dog).  Clearly my one-word answers were not what they were looking for.   

All is resolved now, and the lines of communication are re-opened. Scout sits behind me in my hotel room, supervising my work.

What a 24 hours!  I woke at 3:10 am on D-Day, and was go, go, go for the next 13 hours.  I left Scout with Animal Transport in the morning, and had someone been standing near me as I left they would have heard, “I’m not going to cry; I’m not going to cry.  Damn, I’m going to cry.”  But, the good news was, I still had so much to do that I stopped crying pretty quickly.  By the time Sibling 1 and I got to the checkout desk at Pearson six hours later, there was only one last thing to do: say good-bye.  Again, without crying.  Hmm.  Well, whatever.  I tried.

Then it seemed like no time and we had landed in Dublin.  Then on to Edinburgh, to what turned out to be the easiest customs crossing I’d ever done.  I had my vaccination certificate ready, along with my negative COVID test, my passport, you name it.  But they just waved me through.  Really? Okay.  Then on to rent the car, program the GPS (SatNav), and brave the streets of Scotland.  I was so wound up, and so anxious; it wasn’t until I’d been driving for 20 minutes before it dawned on me: “You’re here.  You’re really here!  You started thinking about this in December 2019 and now, 21 months later, you’re here.  Take a breath, look around, and appreciate the moment.”

So I did.  I was gliding along the motorway on a sunny day, through the beautiful Scottish countryside.  It felt wonderful.

I don’t post a lot on social media – I’ll re-post good causes from friends, but that’s about it.  But the one post I knew I was going to do was from the airplane, as we were taking off, announcing my departure on my big adventure.  Except, for the first time that I’m aware of, Facebook had shut down.  Completely. Well, how annoying.  Nonetheless, the plane took off and the adventure began, Mr. Zuckerberg et al notwithstanding.

4:13 a.m. I’ve been up since 3 o’clock. I drop Scout off at 9:00 a.m. for her 5:30 p.m. flight with KLM, then my Aer Lingus flight is 5:45 this afternoon.

Yesterday was quite the day – friend JK came to say good bye to Scout (and me, but mostly Scout), one friend did me a favour of driving me all over Halton to drop off thank you gifts at other friends’ houses. Sibling 2 had me over for dinner, and the the neighbours hosted a lovely send-off party. I will miss this street very much (but, you’re coming back, Elaine; you’re coming back).

Still feels like lots to do: packing is at about 85%; I have to return modem and satellite boxes via post office; there are still boxes for storage not yet fully packed (!); and I have just emptied the fridge of the last of the food – homemade applesauce and hard boiled eggs for breakfast and lunch today.

If I hadn’t hired a property manager/handy man – I don’t know where I would be right now. I am walking away from so many tasks that I had intended to complete myself, and there are boxes that I am just never going to fit in the storage room. Fortunately, I can count on SB for that – what a load off my mind all that delegation has been.

Time to sort out the last of Scout’s paperwork – and then, we’re off!

It’s less than two weeks until we go.

Up until now I’ve been focused on the organizing, and the process, and the newness of everything. Then, a couple of week ago, Sibling 1 offered to host an early Thanksgiving and Farewell Elaine dinner for the family. Whoa. “Farewell dinner”. Then some good friends sent me a beautiful going-away card. And my neighbours want to get together for a final drink. Suddenly excitement is turning to something else – this is starting to sink in. I’m leaving. I’m going away. I won’t see many of these people for two years – I’m not exactly sad, but this is not going to be easy. I know COVID has taught me you don’t have to be in the same room with someone to stay in touch, but this is the other side of a very big ocean.

Well, if homesickness comes, I’ll ride it out and focus on the positive. (and call my sisters. A lot.)

Well, last week I did it. I got on a plane for the first time in 24 months. We flew to Calgary (the epi-centre of Canada’s vocal anti-vaxxers). Pearson airport was excellent, not crowded, well maintained, very safety conscious. The flight wasn’t full so we were 2 in a row of 3. But we were twitchy, I guess partly being close to people again and after all that time away from travel – it wasn’t a comfortable ride and I think that was mostly our nerves. I suppose it was good practice for flying to Edinburgh. Calgary was great – everyone masked and distancing. Beautiful city.

This was all happening 3 weeks before D-Day, and I thought I couldn’t afford the time away from home, but stepping away from all the moving mayhem and spending 10 days with dear friends was exactly what I needed. Drinking my own weight in wine & gin every 48 hours was maybe something I didn’t need, but hey, whatevs.

I also didn’t need the Emergency Alert that set off all our phones the night before we were leaving – Alberta is going back into lockdown. Clearly time to get out of Dodge.

Scout stayed with her brother & cousin here in Milton. She loves being there, but every now and then can feel a tad out of her element. Below is what Sibling #2 looked up and saw one afternoon. Not disconcerting, no, not disconcerting at all. I wonder how long she had been sitting there, just staring?

Only 22 more sleeps! But so much to do. While I do feel on top of everything that has to be done, I also know that when one domino wobbles, a whole bunch more can fall. Flight booked: check. Movers & property manager booked: check. Cleaners, painters, & yard maintenance booked: almost. Storage locker built: almost. Scout’s trip booked: not until next week. Car sold: almost (and have to say I have the BEST friends – of all the jobs in the world, there are few I dread more than selling a car, and JL &BN have stepped up – the BEST!). Almost all of the above is being done with the help of friends and local businesses – I am a lucky girl. Only two things weighing me down: some tax issues (still waiting for my accountant!) and I have nowhere to live in Orkney. Trying not to dwell too much on that last thing.