Our last morning in Edinburgh saw us both sitting, bleary eyed at breakfast, Nicktor having the added burden of a hangover. “Never again,” he moaned, knowing this was clearly a lie to make his brain feel better.
We left Masson House, boarded a bus and headed into the New Town to catch an airport bus. It was then a short trip to the airport, passing Edinburgh Zoo, which I have to get to next time.
We checked in, went through security and sat at the Costas nursing coffees.
Actually, I’m surprised Nicktor was given one. He has some sort of problem with choice and when he goes up to the counter of a coffee house will say he wants a coffee. They say, “What kind?” And he just repeats “A Coffee!”
Choice aside, apparently someone claims that the coffee machine has meant the death of tea and he’s taken this to heart and proclaims it loud and bold. I didn’t mention it but I reckon, by the same sort of flawed logic, that the introduction of the teapot spelled the end of real ale.
However, I feel I should have pointed out to him that coffee was drunk in Britain before tea. The first Coffeehouse arrived in 1652 while tea had to wait until the Restoration (post 1660). In fact, believe it or not, the tea was purchased by and served in, Coffeehouses! So, if anything, for a long while, tea meant the death of coffee in Britain.
Any more beverage discussion was halted by our walk to the gate for the plane home.
The flight was delightfully uneventful (Nicktor read and slept while I watched another episode of The Walking Dead) and we landed at Southampton on time. We collected the car and Nicktor drove me home.
Another fun weekend though it did miss the Great Religious Discussion of 2014.
I arrived home to the news that Max will be ready this Thursday. To celebrate, we drove over to Haslemere in Sidney and had Chinese takeaway from the still marvellous Good Earth, where Emma delighted the only table of diners by pressing her face against the plate glass window, looking adorable.