I forgot to mention the surprisingly amateurish vibe we got from the Caledonian Sleeper team.
It all looks very professional on the internet, but it’s a different story in person. I can’t blame them for having a fault with the water, meaning our cabin had to be changed at the last minute (or can I?) but it seemed to completely floor the receptionist in the lounge when we checked in. “Is it just you?” well, no it’s me and the man listed below me with the same surname who is standing beside me. “Why are you in a twin room, then? Did you not want to share a bed?” she asked before blushing and deciding perhaps it wasn’t an appropriate question. I tried to explain I’d booked a double room and it was them who had changed it, but by then she was caught up in the stress of finding our keycard that was missing. “What’s your cabin number?” she asked, which of course, I didn’t know. She went through all her cards twice while a queue built up behind us, so I said we’d grab a seat in the lounge and pick up the key later. “We’ll bring it to you!” she said (they didn’t). There were several announcements while we were waiting for our train, looking for various missing keycards “Could everyone please check your cards to see if you have C1? Or how about Victor Charlie?” I had to go up and get our card shortly before we boarded, and she didn’t remember me. “Oh yes. What’s your cabin number?” I had to explain the whole situation again before she would give it to me.
Similarly, the shower in the lounge was very much appreciated, until I was done and found there was no towel, and no indication anywhere of how to get one. Simon had to grab one from reception and bring it to me.
There was only one wait person for all the passengers in the lounge, who was very nice but only appeared intermittently and seemed more concerned with clearing tables than taking orders. We did eventually succeed in flagging her down and got our haggis shortly before boarding.
Anyway, in spite of all that, I really enjoyed the trip. It wasn’t quiet but the rocking of the train was very soporific and I got my best night’s sleep yet. They brought our room service breakfast at 6:30, by which time Simon was already up and dressed. We’d had a standoff about having the blinds open. I said we can’t ride along with no view of the outside, what’s the point in being on a train otherwise? But he was concerned about random people being able to look in and see him in bed. To be fair there were quite a few train stations in the last hour of the trip.
We got into Aberdeen promptly at 7:30, actually earlier than advertised. We went to the lounge which was in great condition, sparkling new and clean. It was certainly uncontaminated by staff. I had to find a ticket office to ask about my refund (“you’ll have to contact them on the website”) and ask, unsuccessfully, for a towel (not falling for that twice!) (“Towels! No, they never supplied us with any towels…”)
The shower was lovely, and luckily for me, Simon had stolen a facecloth from the club in London (so much for the high trust model), which I used to dry myself.
It was a 20 minute walk through town to our accommodation, dragging our suitcases over the cobblestones. It was 9 am when we got there but they happily let us into our room straight away. Bless.
Simon had booked a 3 hour walking tour of the highlights of Aberdeen, which was very good but after 2 hours our guide had clearly run out of highlights so we let her get away early. Her name was Morgan and she was actually Canadian. I said Oh! Our son in law is Canadian, he’s from…. and I completely forgot the name of the city, and spent the entire tour racking my brains trying to the think of it (and now I’ve remembered, when it’s clearly too late. I was right that it started with O, and I was sure Ontario wasn’t right…it was Ottawa).
Morgan said she was an historian, but spend most of the tour recommending various drinking establishments. She did say she works as a restaurant manager on the side. Although I suspect tour guiding is actually the thing she does “on the side”.
Highlights:
The Harbour has been used for shipping for 1000 years.
Robert the Bruce kicked out the British and destroyed two castles around here in the early 13 hundreds.
Theres a statue of William Wallace of Braveheart fame but I don’t think he ever came to Aberdeen.
Aberdeen had two universities back when all of England only had two, Cambridge and Oxford.
North sea oil has brought enormous amounts of money to the city, at one point property was more expensive than in London, although it’s going through a bit of a rough patch at the moment. The Main Street has a lot of vape shops, charity stores, a “Poundland” (like a two dollar shop) and barbers (good for money laundering apparently).
Unfortunately, my bowels have been acting up on our holiday, not unusual for me. I, like many others, tend to get constipated when I’m away from home. My tummy was very gripey and gassy while we were walking around, I tried to fart as quietly as possible whilst maintaining an innocent expression but I suspect I was being fooled by my tinnitus into thinking I was much more stealthy than I actually was. Never mind, in any event, Morgan took pity on me and acted oblivious.
We had lunch in a beautiful old converted church. There are so many churches here, they’ve obviously decided God can spare a few.
Back to the club for a nap.
Slept far too long but felt very refreshed afterwards. Dinner in the club, just the two of us. Lovely.
