Last summer, I traveled to Scotland on vacation for a week to attend a wedding on the Isle of Skye. I’d hardly consider the first few hours of the trip relaxing. I picked up my rental car in the center of downtown Edinburgh and was instantly tasked with operating a manual transmission from the right seat on the wrong side of the road, and then navigating what seemed like an endless number of four-lane roundabouts to get out of town and on my way toward the city of Inverness. I set my expectations low for the drive, which was basically not to run into anything or get pulled over by the police for doing something stupid. As a bonus, I got honked at countless times and received the international hand gesture of disapproval from surrounding drivers. I made it out of town unscathed, albeit with an elevated heart rate and a death grip on the steering wheel.
Fly Like Someone is Watching
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