I am on a very modern train going through the English countryside to Scotland. There’s a table an outlet, and wi-fi. What more can a person ask for? The Jamboree ended yesterday; the closing ceremonies were Tuesday night. Like at our National Jamborees, a lot of music and fireworks were included in the closing. All in all, the World Jamboree was an impressive achievement on the part of the British Scout Association. Kings and Prince attended, but the important attendees were the scouts from around the world that lived together peacefully and showed each other great respect. Not much like this has happened before, but perhaps the participants will go home and tell their parents, “it is possible to live in peace.”

Originally, Don Ellison, a friend from back home, offered to give me a ride into Chelmsford, He’s part of the LDS contingent. However, his boss needed the van they rented, and I had to arrange my own transportation. The normal shuttle operation, about a mile from where I tented, did not leave until 9:00 a.m., and I had to catch a bus into London at 9:50 a.m.. Also, I knew lots of other people would be waiting for a ride into town as well. There is a gate into Hylands Park much closer to where I tented arranged to have a taxi meet me there around 8:00 a.m. Calling a taxi meant using someone’s mobile phone, as I do not have on that works in Europe. Although, Don told me that for a relatively small charge, he got temporary, overseas calling from his cell phone provider, Verizon. I wish I had known about that before I left America. A nice Norwegian scout let me use her cell phone to make the cab reservation, and a British policeman at the gate let me use his cell phone to confirm the reservation from the gate in the morning. Everything worked according to plan and I had some spare time in Chelmsford before my bus (always a good thing).

Many people at the Jamboree caught colds, and I hoped to avoid one, but just before the Jamboree ended, I developed a runny nose and a scratchy throat. The weather, except for the days before the Jamboree opened officially has been excellent; indeed, hot and sunny, albeit, not as hot as back home. The paper had a picture of Brighton Beach that was mobbed over the weekend as Briton’s tried to soak up the sunshine. Of course, the last day of the Jamboree grew cloudy and rainy by the afternoon, and the mud returned with vigor. I was thankful that I would not have to drag my luggage in the mud to the shuttle bus.

It was raining as the crowds assembled for the closing ceremonies, but thankfully it stopped by the time things really got underway. Because of my cold, I opted not to attend the event, but could hear the music and see the fireworks from my campsite. I just didn’t want to get chilled and wet before leaving. I said my good-byes to our amateur radio friends in the afternoon, and said good-byes to a few more people at dinner. Everyone wished me luck on my journey.

I mailed some of my scouting stuff home so now I am down to two items of luggage, a large rolling duffle and a pack. The duffle, however, is quite heavy, and I plan to send some more home from Scotland. I made reservations at the Palmer Lodge, another hostel in London, for Wednesday night. The Palmer Lodge is a delightful old Victorian building in the Camden area, and I would recommend it. Basically, I treated my cold all day with naps and tea. This morning, I packed quickly and at 7:00 a.m., I headed to Kings Cross station to catch the train to Inverness. I was in a hurry because, I had only and an hour. Being in a hurry is not a good thing as you will learn. To get to Kings Cross from the Swiss Cottage underground station requires changing lines at the Baker’s Street stop. With my luggage, I trudged up and down stairs several times, and up and down escalators too. On the last escalator, going up, I moved too fast, lost my balance, and fell over my luggage, face first onto the grooved steel escalator steps. I probably tumbled three or four steps before rolling onto my backpack, and straightening up. Some people stopped the escalator, and I sat down on a step for minute to catch my breadth. Although I didn’t know it at the time, I got scratched and bruised on my left shoulder, and left knee. I also got a small laceration on my left ear lobe. After a few minutes, I picked myself up and continued to Kings Cross. Of course, the story doesn’t end here. With 15 minutes to spare at Kings Cross, I stopped for a cup of coffee, but when I coughed (left over from my cold), I felt a sharp pain in my left side/chest. Oh, oh…that’s where my heart is.

I got on the train to Edinburgh, with some effort, and found my assigned seat. The pain in my chest got worse. I started to feel a dull pain continuously, and a sharper pain when I had to breathe hard or coughed. So I told the ticket lady that came by that I was having pain in my chest, and that I had a triple bypass in 2003. She called ahead for an ambulance in the next town, Peterborough, and she called to see if there were any doctors aboard the train. A nice young doctor named Claire came to sit by me, and we chatted. I hoped that my pain was just from the fall, but could not take a chance. At Peterborough, an ambulance took me to the hospital, and after an examination that showed all was well (a normal EKG, normal blood pressure, etc.), they decided that, indeed, it looked like I had injured myself in the fall, and that the medicine would again be tincture of time. So with some effort and some relief in the knowledge that my heart was OK, I walked about a half mile back to the train station and caught the next train to Edinburgh. This has really been an adventure! So now I have had an encounter with the British medical system, and I must say it left me with a positive impression. After my exam, the doctor basically pointed me to the hospital exit. I asked about the bill, and he said, not to worry about it. I may get a charge in the mail, but most likely not. In the U.S., when I had my heat attack, the first item on the agenda was to see the health insurance people, and then get medical attention. Apparently, there is another way.

After a two-hour delay in Peterborough, I walked back to the train station, still in pain, and got onto the next train to Edinburgh. This turned out to be a long day. The train got as far as Newcastle, and stopped because there was a power outage to the north. Everyone was herded off the train and onto long distance coaches (busses). Edinburgh was another 150 miles, and the coach was not as comfortable as the train, but after riding for almost four hours we made it into the Edinburgh station, and I caught the next train to Inverness.

As we traveled north, the flat farm land changed to rolling hills and northern forests, then to rolling highlands with low grass and shrubs. The purple heather was everywhere. We passed the Cairngorm National Park near Pithlochary. Finally, after a long day, I walked from the train station to the Highlander Hostel, and got settled in for the night. Tomorrow I meet the Loch Ness Monster!

Philip Sternberg
Scoutmaster, Troop 1131