Old Money

You will hear the phrase “old money” from me off and on, especially when referring to Imperial measurements which the US persists in using as apposed to the rest of the world which is firmly entrenched now in the metric system. Today – I am literally talking about old money.

Let me start at the beginning in Alkmaar where my hotel was. Walk to the train station – no problems. Buy a ticket. Oh – there is only one machine. Today it is not taking cards. Luckily the local newspaper/magazine location was willing to provide change. Did I mention that the ticket machine only took coins? No bills, just coins. And when it said – No Change Given – what it really meant was exact change only.

I managed to get to Schipol (with the usual train change in Zaadam), found the market which hadn’t been listed on the airport’s website as it is actually in the “trains” area… Anyway. drop baggage through a machine that weighs the bag and checks to make sure your luggage routing tag is readable. Through security, through the automated passport control and on to the gate.

A few hours later, I boarded – flying to Edinburgh.  By the time I was off, had my bags, and exited the airport, I was tired and elected to take a taxi. Arriving at Beverley’s was when the fun began. I have cash, a lot since I closed out my UK Bank account in 2014 and kept meaning to either use it or change it. But in reality, I kept forgetting to bring my pounds sterling along.  And some of my pounds are Bank of Scotland.

Well, the UK has gone to the same kind of fancy bills with embedded plastic like the rest of the world. I didn’t know this till I tried to pay. I have LITERALLY old money

Changing my money at Bank of Scotland is on the agenda for the morning.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

About Holly

fiber person - knitter, spinner, weaver who spent 33 years being a military officer to fund the above. And home. And family. Sewing and quilting projects are also in the stash. After living again in Heidelberg after retiring (finally) from the U.S. Army May 2011, we moved to the US ~ Dec 2015. Something about being over 65 and access to health care. It also might have had to do with finding a buyer for our house. Allegedly this will provide me a home base in the same country as our four adult children, all of whom I adore, so that I can drive them totally insane. Considerations of time to knit down the stash…(right, and if you believe that…) and spin and .... There is now actually enough time to do a bit of consulting, editing. Even more amazing - we have only one household again. As long as everyone understands that I still, 40 years into our marriage, don't do kitchens or bathrooms. For that matter, not being a golden retriever, I don't do slippers or newspapers either. I don’t miss either the military or full-time clinical practice. Limiting my public health/travel med/consulting and lecturing to “when I feel like it” has let me happily spend my pension cruising, stash enhancing (oops), arguing with the DH about where we are going to travel next and book buying. Life is good!
This entry was posted in Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.