Edinburgh 2002-06-02                     


Sheena and Margaret picked me up early at St. Andrews square.  As she predicted, I was surprised that Margaret as awake at that time.  Went to Auntie Frances and Uncle JimmyÕs, where Christopher and Andrew were just waking up and begun our time of leisurely meals and sporadic glimpses at the World Cup.  While in Edinburgh we made a trip with Kathryn to the Princess Gardens to celebrate the Jubilee and see the show.  As would be expected of Scotland, the festivities werenÕt quite as ambitious celebrations of the QueenÕs reign as they appeared to have in England.  The following day, we met the extended Cockburn clan at the beach in Dunbar for a nice picnic and chance to see baby Charlotte.



St. Andrews 2002-06-04


Rode up to St. Andrews with my sister to stay with Auntie Mary.  Spent much of the day in front of the telly watching the World Cup, but that is one of the great pleasures.  Wandered the town as well of course, Margaret went Wills hunting.  Christine, Mike and Emma came up for the day, which as great.  Had a grand time playing football in the garden with Emma.  Went to Ratho with the Humphries for a night and went to the Scottish Museum with Christine and Emma.  Once Emma learned that I would give horsey-back rides, the requests were endless, but I was happy to oblige.


Stuttgart 2002-06-10


Took the bus down to London, flew to Frankfurt, waited for my sister to arrive on a later flight.  In doing so I ran into a guy who went to Keele (he recognised me) who was an Anglo-German working for a big investment bank in London.  Could I have done thatÉ?  Took the ICE down to Stuttgart watching Father Ted on MargaretÕs laptop.  Why couldnÕt I have such a thing on the longer slower journeys?


Granada  2002-06-16


Flew into Malaga from Stuttgart after spending the night at the airport so that I could catch the super early charter flight. I was quite glad that I wasnÕt on an Ibiza or Mallorca bound flight.  Still Malaga has its share of tourist monstrosities, which I fled immediately.   I made my way to Granada with a short stop in Bobidilla, a town that very much represented my poorly informed idea of the Spanish interior.  The hostel in Granada was big and unsocial, but otherwise quite comfortable.  Wandered the city as usualÉ