Sunday, last day in Scotland

    We were up and out early, needing to stop at a petrol station to fill up the car rental. The round about back to the airport was not nearly as treacherous as the one a week ago from the airport. We arrived promptly at 6:30am just as the Eurocrat guy was rolling in. All he said was, "Got keys?" and "Have nice day." and we were off. No asking about incidents , no "spraining" to do about extra wear and tear on tires secondary to bad curbs.

   Past security at the airport, we went to file our VAT paperwork. Several clerks had tried to help us understand Value-Added Tax, a kind of excise tax that non-Europeans can get back by jumping through a few hoops. We had some clerks give us the proper stamp and form and envelope. Most everyone else blew us off, although, since we kept all the receipts that said VAT £1.33 or £2.67 etc. I submitted all our receipts.  Getting anything back, after dropping them in an unsealed envelope into a post box, will be a pleasant surprise.

  We almost shopped at the duty free store but we spooked ourselves out that we were already over some limit (just as we had freaked ourselves out about the weight of our stuffed suitcases.) (Neither was over 50lb.)

   We got our last Scottish breakfast in the airport and the flight home was uneventful. Traveling by day and just expecting not to sleep in uncomfortable chairs made it more tolerable. The Park and Fly dudes in Portland had detailed our car so we drove home in style. Cleverly, I had taken Monday off of work so we had an extra day to recover from jet lag, unpacking and the reality that vacation was over.  How nice to still enjoy playing together and getting through the challenges of travel.

   P.S.  All the whisky made it home intact.

  

Clyde, unwinding at home with some of our booty