A bit more of a final update...

So it appears that the last time I updated this blog I was in Edinburgh. I did manage to get my vegetarian haggis--perhaps a contradiction in terms to those purists of the world, but quite tasty nonetheless--although the literary tour was cancelled when we got there. So sad.
From Edinburgh we headed northwest to the Highlands, in the Oban area. Our hotel was described variously as being in Kilchrenan and Taynuilt, both of which are in Argyll, and so we logically got off our train at the Taynuilt stop expecting to hire a cab to the actual hotel (which was advertised as being in the middle of nowhere, along a loch...i.e. not walkable with luggage). Of course, that action assumed that Taynuilt was in fact a town with cabs for hire, as opposed to what it actually was: a mere pause on the route, with perhaps ten buildings--main street--in view. We enquired at the post office, and they don't have taxis in Taynuilt. We ended up having to hire one from Oban to drive out to Taynuilt and then to Taychreggan, our hotel, and then back to Oban. All for a mere $80. But what can you do?
It was totally worth it, too. Okay, the hotel actually wasn't all that great. But the scenery, ach! I could feel the Scottish blood running in my veins. The pictures I have do it no justice: to stand on a hillside and look out over the green, mist-hung hills dotted with sheep and ancient cairns, to breathe the air, to see the gloaming light intensify the reddish tints run through the grasses and the glassy surface of the loch...
I want to go back.
Sigh.
But onward.
After Kilchrenan we intended to finish out our trip in Bath. We hired another cab to take us to Oban, so we could catch a bus to Glasgow, so we could catch a train to London, so we could catch a train to Bath. The bus was running late, so we had to take a later Glasgow-London train than planned, but it all still seemed to be working out alright...until, that is, they informed us that our train was no longer going to London, but rather to York. Seems there were electrical problems with the train lines between where we were and London, so they were rerouting all the trains. The difficulty, there, of course, was that suddenly several trainloads of people are trying to fit themselves onto the one train that would still be running between York and London. We had no chance. There was a second option, to take a train to Leeds, thence to London, thence to Bath, but that wouldn't get us to Bath until roughly 1am, assuming all went well (which, at that point, we were reluctant to assume).
So we stayed in York. Fun city, actually. It's walled, and you can walk along portions of the wall and look out over the city, and it has historic sections with crooked streets and buildings all tumbling together. All told, a fine alternative to Bath.
After York, the trip to London to catch our plane home was uneventful, as was the plane ride itself. I suppose they did accidentally route Mum's bags to Ghana instead of Portland (easy mistake, you see), but at least they know where it is...
And now I'm home. I like home, but I would have been content to keep wandering around a bit longer. I certainly hadn't tired of it yet.
Hm, I feel like these last couple days of the trip got much more attention than the rest, since the internet here at my house is free and the cafes I visited were not. Well, I'm sure random stories will keep popping up on here as I think of them. But this entry is getting long, so--for your sakes--I'll postpone them for now.
Later.