Scotland Calling

Back across the pond

My first trip abroad was to London. Fitting, now that I look back on it. I was 18, recently graduated from high school, and already a budding Anglophile. I’m not even sure I knew what that meant, but I was that nerd who wore a tweed waistcoat and smoked a pipe, listened to pretentious British singer-songwriters, and occasionally sneaked a pint of Woodpe…