Why I Like Old People Better & Espionage

The Grand Scottish Tour for me only included two places: Glasgow and Edinburgh. In my next life (or just later in this one), I would love, love, love to go travel about the Highlands in Scotland, but it didn't happen on this journey of many, many steps.

Chase and I departed Thursday afternoon from the flat. Our train left from King's Cross at 3, so we had ample time after class to eat, pack and get ourselves there. John, Hayes, Chase and I grabbed some paninis at a little Italian sandwich place that we pass on our way to Holborn Tube Station that seems to only be open for lunch, Monday-Friday. Anyway, they make really yummy paninis there, so we popped in. Made our way back to the flat and had so much time that I ate and packed and had time to sit around remembering things I had forgotten to pack (rare occurrence that I have the time to remember things I've forgotten). Arrived at the train station without much ado, and off we went! Most of the train ride was long and boring, but towards the end we had these really spectacular views of the coastline that made (in my eyes, if not Chase's) the 5 hours on the train worthwhile.

Arrival in Glasgow was without fanfare. Walking to the hostel was pretty sketchy; I was definitely glad to not be flying solo. We discovered almost immediately that Scotland really IS hilly, and we got a workout trekking up and down hills to our accomodations. We kept passing these small herds of juvenile (delinquent?) boys, and my feeling that I was glad to not be alone only inensified as we walked. Got to the hostel safe and sound, and found out that the owner (who I talked to when I booked our stay) forgot to put us in "the book." Meaning we didn't have a room. BUT, not to fear, they were in the process of refurbishing another building across the road to turn into another hostel, so we were put up in a bedroom with two of the workers (they stay in town for 4 nights of the week and then go back to their respective homes for the weekend). Which was cool and all, except that one of them (two huge Russian dudes) snored like a FIEND. I'm serious. Never in your life have you heard snoring this loud and varied and punctuated with gross throat-clearing. GROSS. So Chase was supremely frustrated and ended up climbing down from his bunk bed and poking the guy like 10 times to get him to stop. I, for one, was just glad that he didn't punch Chase in the face and go back to happily snoring (he was HUGE!).

Next morning we were up pretty early to get free breakfast and head out (left bags at the hostel for later pick up). We went to the city necropolis (read: GIANT cemetary on top of a GIANT hill) and wandered around there for a while. This is where liking old people better first makes its appearance. As of approaching the necropolis, I was feeling creeped out by the city, was bothered by the fact that Glasgow is a city of people who REFUSE TO MAKE EYE CONTACT, and was just sort of generally energy-less. That is, until I passed a really nice old man on my way into the necropolis who was walking his dog. We chatted briefly, but it wasn't even our conversation that made the difference. It was his openness and his smile and the fact that he LOOKED at me. I didn't realize just how much I rely on that human connection in my everyday interactions. I couldn't understand half the things he was saying because his accent was SO thick, but we talked about his dog and he asked about my walk and he just sort of restored my faith in people. So, thus rejuvinated, up I trekked to the top of the necropolis. Where there were incredibly beautiful views of St. Mungo's Cathedral at its base and of the surrounding city and towns. It was so beautiful that I kept snapping pictures with my phone....and then realized that it might be weird/morbid that I was taking photos of a cemetary... and then decided that I didn't care.

An example of a pic from the necropolis.

Left the necropolis and went down to check out the church. Beautiful inside, and I really liked the plaque that they had posted just inside.


Plaque

 After exploring the church we headed to lunch at a place called Waxy O'Connors. Nice enough place, but notable because our server talked to us about Gaelic football and hurling and their differences (and how even guys who play both sports disagree ALL the time about rule discrepancies, in large part because they share the same season of play, and a lot of times guys will play on a team for each sport, necessitating some tricky every-other-weekend-scheduling). Interesting.

Trekked on to the botanical gardens at the complete opposite end of the city.


Botanical Gardens (or just Botanic Gardens according to the signs outside)



Neat carnivorous plant from the botanical gardens

 Somewhere along the lines we passed a square in the center of Glasgow with a larrrrrrge monument to Sir Walter Scott. He's a big deal, here in Scotland.

Walter Scott. He's kind of a big deal.

One thing I will say about monuments here in Europe: they are almost universally tall columns with a statue of the MAN they celebrate chilling at the top. I'll counter myself almost immediately with a monument in Edinburgh to, again, Walter Scott (I told you he's a big deal in Scotland). That one looked like a mini Gothic cathedral. But I digress (I'll post pics of that at the opportune moment in this post).

Cool clock outside the bus station

OK, so post-botanical gardens we headed back to the hostel. Chatted with the owner for a while (a totally California Scotsman with loong hair and a vocabulary more likely to be found on a naval cruiser than in a hostel) and then left for the bus station. No snags there, but a nice bus station attendant let us go on the earlier bus to Edinburgh since we were there so early. Thanks again Mr. Attendant!

Got into Edinburgh and immediately had better vibes from the city than I EVER got in Glasgow. About 5 minutes after checking in to the hostel and trekking up all 6 stories to get to our room, another American kid, David, popped in and was as excited to meet us as we were to meet him. Turns out he's from the same part of Atlanta that Chase is from; small world!? So the three of us bopped around for the night. Went to a little pub around the corner that had won the 2009 Edinburgh pub of the year and I hung out with (the title makes a reappearance!) an old man at the bar and we talked for probably a good 45 minutes about Scottish food and beer. For example, neeps and tatties? Yeah, those are turnips and potatoes. We also met two guys (sidenote: I was, besides the barmaid, the only female in the establishment. Which was tiny, granted, but it was still somewhat overwhelming, and I was grateful when 3 girls walked in to hang out with a big table full of guys on the other side of the bar) who were studying at the University of Edinburgh. A guy from Geneva, and one from Chile. They're roommates, and after they left the pub they were headed to club... so we, of course, joined them!

Espionage. AKA the name of the club we went to. It was a 6 level underground restaurant/bar/club. Ground floor and first underground floor were restaurant, and the 4 levels under those were dance floors and bars, each with its own DJ! So we, naturally, went straight down and danced our butts off. It was SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've missed dancing. So we had a blast and then headed back to the hostel to rest up before another long day of walking.

Woke up and went straight to it. First stop, Gothic Scott Monument.



Scott Monument. We CLIMBED THIS.

Lots of steps, but totally worth it for the views we had of the city. Four levels to stop and admire from, and a tiiiiiny spiral stairwell. Which leads me to this musing on Europeans: they HAVE to be skinny in order to visit half of the scenic overlook sights in Europe (or at least the UK). Because half of them are at the top of monuments like this one. With narrow little passageways like this one:

That's my foot so that you've got a point of reference for JUST how narrow that little passage was. Also, there's just one way up. And that way also serves as the way down. So imagine SHARING that passageway with the random people going in the opposite direction. I don't know how they don't have more deaths from people getting stuck in this little passage and asphyxiating.

Edinburgh Castle as seen from the Scott Monument

This seemed like the quintessential Scottish picture, to my way of thinking. What do you think?

Hiked up to Edinburgh Castle only to find a line that FAR exceeded my patience. So we saw the outside of the castle but I never actually made it inside (Chase did later in the day when we split up, and said that it was cool but prrobably not worth the 14 pound entry fee that still applies as their "summer price" until October 1, so I'm ok with it). Left the Castle and walked away via the Royal Mile where we saw this:

THAT IS A UNICORN HOLDING THE SCOTTISH FLAG. I want to be Scottish.

Off to the other side of the city to climb ANOTHER massive hill (seriously, start a work out regimen before you ever decide to visit Edinburgh. Or don't be cheap, like me, and pay to take a bus tour) with more spectacular views that made the burning in my entire lower body worthwhile.

View from the top

"Edinburgh's Folly" a monument that the city couldn't raise the funds to complete beyond these 12 pillars. Pretty view of the sea behind, though.

After leaving this hill, I was spent. Two days spent traipsing up and down interminable hills and layering and de-layering depending on whether or not the sun was out finally wore me down enough that I threw in the towel. Oh, but not til after we walked halfway to jebip down a random sidestreet that Chase claimed was the shopping street in Edinburgh. Lithe maybe? Or Liffe? Something like that. And maybe it is a big deal, but saving my feet from falling off was a bigger deal to me at that point. I don't regret it. At that point, we split up. I headed back to the hostel to grab some chicken fingers and Chase went to the Castle. We both made it back at approximately the same time, so we went to Pizza Hut for dinner. True story: Pizza Huts here are classy places. Real menus, clean tables, staff that seats you when you walk in. The pizza is exactly the same though (DELICIOUS). After dinner we literally went straight back to the hostel and straight to bed. It was about 8:30 by the time I had brushed my teeth and packed my things. And I passssssssed outtttttttttt. Slept beautifully, but going to bed so early wasn't ENTIRELY lame because we had to be out by 6:30 this morning to make it to the bus station to get to the airport for our flight at 8:15.

The last bite of an amazing raspberry almond bar that I had for breakfast at the airport

Made it back safely without major difficulty, and I decided to head to the Tate British to do some research for a project I've got coming up in my Art and Architecture class. On the floor was this cool mosaic that I liked (I like the sentiment of it, really)

"If the fool would persist in his folly, he would become wise"

Got to skype with Mom-Mom(!), Andrew, Mom and Dad... was so nice seeing Anj and Mom-Mom (and M&D but I see them more regularly on skype). Went to dinner with John and Hayes to a place called Nando's that makes some yummy chicken, and then came back here to skype. The boys are playing Pokemon and WOW on their computers and can't understand why I'm laughing at them. They're nerdy, but so am I. Just definitely NOT in a video game kinda way. So while I blog, they game. I think we're going to go grab a nightcap and catch up on each others' weekends.

Last comment. In the early aughts in the States, the status symbol car was the Hummer, right? Yeah, well here, if you're pretty sure that you're a big deal, you drive a Bentley. Sometimes a Porsche (which you'll see in the States, too, fair enough), but big deal means you drive a BENTLEY. Done.