Into the Woods

While retrieving my passport from the lock box, I flipped through all my old passports. There are five passports altogether. It was in April 1984, I was reminded, that I made my first trip to the United Kingdom, including my first trip to Scotland. What a trip that was!

At the time, I had a Welsh friend, now deceased, who was a solicitor practicing in London. He was a political wonk, and though he was descended from Welsh coal miners and felt guilty about it, he was a supporter of Margaret Thatcher. He had requested tickets from his member of Parliament, and we attended the Prime Minister’s question day in the House of Commons, with rather amazing seats in the Sergeant at Arms’ private box. Somewhere in my archives I still have the front page of the next morning’s Times of London. The newspaper would supply the political context, controversial at the time, which I have forgotten. But I will never forget the most dramatic line of the day. A member of the opposition party asked the Prime Minister a long and hostile question. Mrs. Thatcher’s reply was very short a brought a round of laughter: “I do not speak for Mr. Haig.” I can almost still hear her voice.

My upcoming trip to Scotland will be only my second trip to Scotland. I’ll be in Edinburgh and the isles of Mull, Ulva, and Gometra. I have enough memory cards for about 2,500 photos. When I return, I’ll be at risk of boring you all with Scotland posts. I probably will not be able to post while traveling, because I’m taking a bare minimum of electronics.