People love making transatlantic comparisons. Think Sting’s Englishman in New York. Think Toby Young’s How to Lose Friends and Alienate People. Think Jeremy Clarkson’s unfortunately abortive attempt to get himself shot in The South.
[Stroke Bloke’s back from holiday. To make up for missing last week, I commend to you this post that predated Ada Lovelace Day on 13 October.]
So, Longsufferinggirlfriendoftheblogbeth and I did indeed make it to Inverness last week to embark upon a scientifically rigorous search for the Loch Ness Monster. We stayed at a hotel on the Lochside. We took a boat ride up the loch to Urquhart Castle. And the results are in…..
Just take a look at the red area on the right hand side of the scanner readings. RIGHT?!?!
Later this week, Phonefinderoftheblogbeth and I will be taking a trip to Inverness. The capital of the Highlands is an interesting place for all sorts of reasons – I’d recommend taking a look at what Ian Wiki has to say about it here.
Our host, the partner of ein Autobahnkind, throws the Mercedes people-carrier into bends that lead us to Highgate. Looking out the windows, I want to tweet to every Scot who ever said, “I can’t be doing with London,” and fill 140 characters with wide arboretums and bilingual Eurostar stations and urban parklands and Japanese supermarkets and treetop walks.
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As I walk across the tarmac, Copenhagen Airport’s Terminal 3 stretches before me and away from me. As its location requires, it’s the height of good taste in modern design, all low-slung glass and steel. Inside, it looks like an airport in a world capital of design should — like a 23rd century version of Monet’s Gare Saint-Lazare.