Where is it?

Today - this evening, actually - Susie is going to Milngavie to do a Little Black Dress event. She called me this morning while we were both eating toast (in different places) to say "Look, where IS Milngavie anway, how the bleep do I get there?" It's not that far from where I grew up, so I was able to give her pretty good directions. I even volunteered to go with her and carry her books and stuff, but she said "No, no, I'll manage, though who knows when I'll get there, or get back, indeed," and sighed as if it was Siberia she was going to. Honestly it's just a wee train journey. It would be interesting to know if other writers are like that - mountains out of molehills, I mean - exaggerating. I wonder if, say, Philip K Dick, who supposedly wrote about space travel a lot (I've seen the films) actually liked driving or taking buses, or just stayed in his house. I suppose I'll never know.