You're in Glasgow now aye lass!

Thursday night at 7:53 local time I touched down in Glasgow after an 11 hour solo flight from Perth to Dubai and then an 8 hour flight from Dubai to Glasgow. All in all I spent about 26 hours in transit, beginning when I left my front door to arriving in the Motherland. Thankfully on my first flight (scored the window seat) I sat next to a pleasant Perth couple in their early 60s whom I chatted with about my plans for the future, their grand kids and how poor the food service was. We all agreed before we even took off that we all would need the toilet several times throughout the flight and would all go at the same time in order to avoid the awkward climbing over your fellow passenger debacle. 'Twas grand (as the Scots would say). After a brief layover at Dubai airport, where my inner Blair Waldorf spotted Pink Berry frozen yoghurt ($10.60 later, note to self: never buy anything at Dubai airport again!) and where I am 95% sure I sat a seat down from Ricky Gervais, or at least his Doppelgänger,  in the departure lounge, I boarded an 8 hour flight en route to Glasgow!  Reign and destroy! Now the reason that I keep saying that is because some uber-patriotic Scot yelled it down the cabin as we graced the tarmac and I thought that if I am to be a proper Glaswegian then I best practice some national pride - aye. Astoundingly, I was just about the only person on my flight arriving on an Australian passport, here's to being an exotic foreigner! After 'clearing customs', and by 'clearing', I mean walking through a back hallway straight into the country, potentially carrying god knows what (I could have smuggled a donkey in should I have wanted to), I was met by my uncle, aunt and cousin - who I have only met once in my life, 10 years ago! Apart from that, I don't have much to report.

Later on I will compose a post about my weekend getting amongst the Glasgow nightlife! But for now, I'm about to walk my adopted puppy/boyfriend - Reginald the Boxer.