I’ve never been accused of being adventurous. Edinburgh isn’t far away. We speak the same language, we use the same money. The Brother lives down the road. I’d won a scholarship to attend the conference.
These are the reasons I stayed when all I wanted to do was get the bus from outside the hotel door to the airport and come home to hide, defeated by the outside world.
I’d just about coped with the drama of getting lost and hunting out essential tablets.
I coped with rain so heavy it seemed an Ark may be imminent. I was drenched. My conference papers were soaked. A raincoat with a hood wasn’t up to the task. I bought an umbrella. I’m not easily beaten.
I coped (no bother at all) with 2 nights in a budget hotel by the train station, all on my own. I had no issues with a view over the city, a huge bed to myself, copious amounts of breakfast pastry, and a fabulous shower.
I thought it was the fault of the rain. I’d walked back from the conference via the pharmacy. As a result, everything was soggy. Everything in the cloth bag, everything in the handbag, everything under the coat.
My phone just needed a little recovery time.
That seemed to do it. Until it stopped altogether.
And I could do nothing. I was in a different city, unable to access phone numbers or the internet. Even if I found a phone box, I have no idea what the Brother’s number is. The bus to the airport was very tempting.
But that would be defeat and I wasn’t letting my not adventurous at all adventure defeat me. And anyway, if I ran away, I’d miss out on time with the Brother, Arty Lady and the Not So Little People. That was what was keeping me sane.
If only I could work out how to let them know when to collect me from the station…
I woke early in the morning, convinced someone had spoken to me. Odd. A few minutes later, a train grumbled or squealed or moved.
And Siri responded.
My phone had taken to responding to the trains, but not to me. What sort of surreal farce had I wandered into? I was having a hugely stressful 24 hours, and I couldn’t begin to work out how to resolve it.
It was 5 am. It took me a while to work out that Siri might in fact respond to me speaking if it were answering the traffic sounds.
Eventually I could send messages. I had contact with the world. I promised Arty Lady I’d send a pigeon when I got on the train.
They took pity on me. The Brother came to get me, to leave me off the next day and collect me again.
They’d figured I couldn’t be left on my own. I didn’t get lost, or soaked, again and my phone dried out eventually.
I didn’t have to ask Siri about phone repair places after all.