Aberdeen is a city whose charms only a native can appreciate. Or even know about apparently. Let’s just say, the city my poor ancestors helped build would be almost completely obscure if it weren’t for petroleum.
My “iPod” posts strangely disappeared when I arrived in Aberdeen for the IACAC conference. Why? Because the Marriott Hotel was charging three Pounds Sterling for every 15 minutes of internet access (or 25 Pounds a day if you preferred). Someone failed to tell these highway robbers that internet is now a utility akin to water or electricity. To his credit, the hotel manager admitted to the absurdity of the situation, but had his hands bound by a contract signed some years ago with their service provider. My access during the week was limited to a single trip to McDonalds where I bought a coffee and nursed it very, very long. Even Starbucks charges for internet in the UK.
So, traveling with an iPod proved less successful than I had anticipated. I ended up with countless pages of hand-written notes from the plenary sessions, and countless unanswered emails stacking up throughout the week.
The trip back was uneventful. Spent the night in Gatwick with the airport chaplain there, the blessed Jonathan, and then had a much better flight back to Vancouver than the first leg of the journey.
So much for my postscript.