Suicide on the East Coast Express... Agatha Christy style.

I am typing this from my phone so it may be quite the challenge to read since I can't spell check it. Good luck.

We left London for Edinburgh, Scotland. About an hour and a half into the train ride a man came over the speaker and said there was a fatality on the line near York and our train was terminating. So there we were, standing in a train station for two hours waiting for the police to clean up the station where the fatality occurred and for another train to pick us up. But let's be honest. Death on a train in England. Those are all of the ingredients for a great Agatha Christy. Am I right, mom?

So we finally arrived in Edinburgh about four hours late and went right to our whiskey tasting. It was disgusting. But on the paper they gave us about the three different whiskeys it said one of them was 170 pounds, which is around $230, or something like that. Who would buy that? Anyway, everyone was just staring at me while I took a sip of each one and my face cringed. At the end they all stood and clapped for me. So odd. Moral of the story is, however, that if someone ever offers you whiskey, take it and sell it to someone else. They are crazy expensive.

Tomorrow we get a "traditional Scottish breakfast" to start the day. I hear it has a lot of meat.

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