Bob and I went to Worldcon in Scotland and had a good time.
We stayed up overnight drinking near the beginning. (I love that in the UK, they keep the hotel bars open as long as guests want to drink.) We saw dawn outside the windows when we went up to the room.
We muddled through the first couple of days but got back into the swing of things before the show wrapped up.
Isaac Asimov had recently died and I recall that we held a celebration of his life with limericks and puns in honor of his magazine column. I stood and offered my three-stanza (although non science related) creation.
Just what is the trouble me lad
You look so incredibly sad.
The doctor just sighed
As I led him inside
And showed him my daydreaming dad.
"Why he looks mighty bully to me.
There's nothing abnormal to see."
He sighed once again
When I said with chagrin,
"My poor father thinks he's a tree."
He scratched his head to remember
Then tossed me a jar. He was limber.
"Apply this as spray
About every third day.
And you'll have fine pears next September."
I recall that we staggered around the city of Glasgow on our final day in town (probably Aug 29) and then gathered everything up to head back to the states.
I seem to recall that the transit for this journey was precarious and fragile.
I think Sylvia and I rented a car in Detroit, drove together to NYC where I caught my flight at JFK. On the way back, I returned to JFK, took a bus into Manhattan, took a train to Dulles in Washington DC, then a flight to Austin where I met up with Sylvia again and returned by car to Detroit after visiting with family.