The last thing I did the night before was to dance at a ceilidh, whirling exhausted around circles and lines with spirited historians of science. The first person to wish me happy birthday in person did so at 4 am, when the fire alarm went off in the halls ore residence. The first (& only so far) person to give me a present warmed the cockles of my heart by it: I barely knew her, but she immediately, upon learning it was my birthday, dug into her bag to offer me an ocean-smoothed stone from Aberdeen's beach, a piece of the city and its granite.
M. offered, or perhaps threatened, to arrange for a breakfast time choral rendition of the song I wrote for last year's BSHS song contest, a followup to yesterday's fabulous and performative Songs of Science session, which ended with a group singalong. Fortunately, M. refrained. Especially after the 4 am wakeup, most of us would not have quite been up for it.
I am traveling first class, which is civilized: free drinks and biscuits, table service for cooked meals, spacious seats, and ambient tranquility. Alas, I am again seated on the side of the train away from the ocean, and conveniently located for sun-based screen glare. Still, it is lovely out.
I am running low on Scotland, but there's still most of England to see today.