So - back across the pond at last. Where did the time go? Feels like yesterday that I was landing in Glasgow and being whirled away to Stirling by a man named Hamish. Now I'm sitting at my breakfast bar and rambling once agian about my time there.
Well, what to say? I'm sure people expect a ramble about how much it sucked coming home and me wailing on and on about how much I miss it. Well, I do miss it. More than you know. But I'm coping just fine. Culture shock? Nope. Reverse culture shock? A little. I guess it's more of a "eye-opener" coming home. Everyone's SO plugged in over here. Laptops, smart phones, tv, movies, games...UGH!!! No one seems to value interpersonal conversation anymore. In fact, I went to dinner with a few friends when I came home and found a few of them uninterested in me and on their smart phones while I was trying to talk to them. I find such things overly frustrating now. My group of friends in Scotland were much more interested in putting on music and sitting down over a deck of cards or dinner to while away the hours with conversation and friends. None of them had a smart phone - and if they texted, they kept it where it belonged - a seperate conversation from the here and now. I love that.
I also think I'm notcing the rudeness more. This may just be my experience, but everywhere I travelled in the UK - England, Scotland, Ireland - all the people I met or talked to or asked for directions were the NICEST people I have ever had the opportunity to meet. Complete strangers would be willing to sit down and spend some time talking and getting to know you, to point you in the right direction if you were lost with complete good grace, and to find you interesting. I've been gestured rudely at, honked at, sworn at, snapped at and overall just treated rudely ever since I got home by people outside my family and friends. Is this what we've become okay with in the US? Since when is asking for directions such a bothersome thing? Does it really make us feel better to honk and swear at a car going slow in front of us rather than just sit back and enjoy the ride - or if you are in a hurry, find a way around them? I guess I just see no point in being rude or taking rudeness anymore. What's the point? Does it make us feel better? Does it improve our interpersonal relationships? I'd like to think not.
But - enough about those annoying little details of life. I'm beginning to sound like John Lennon with the human relationships and peace spiel...not that that's a bad thing!! ;-)
As much as I am handling the transition back to the US (in my opinion) without issue, I am also missing the relationships I had in Scotland. Friends I have made that have impacted my life and personality more than they even know. I miss waking up in the morning and walking into a sunlight kitchen filled with music and laughter at Anton standing on a chair with a snuggie draped around himself as if a robe with a goofy hat on and Donald pretending to worship him. I miss Tyla's wicked comments and insight paired with Saori's loving personality and playful nature. I miss Gavin and Donald's arguements about Lennon being a Communist or not, as well as the devious card games in which they were pitted against one another. I miss matching my wit and humor against that of Gavin, the nights of Supernatural watching with Tyla and Saori, the foot references from Anton and the love of the Beatles of Donald. I miss the nick names, the horsing around, the smiles, the shoulder to lean on when things got rough, the support, the human interaction. I miss just bouncing out the backdoor to toss around the pigskin or heading up to the pitch to play a friendly game of football that dissolves into serious competition. I just plain miss it. And the people. But I never said goodbye. I will never say it. Because I refuse to believe that that was it. That I'll never see any of them again. That I'll never be in Scotland again. Because I won't.
Beacuse I will go back one day. I will.
I guess all I can is, I was lucky. To live with who I did, when I did and where I did. Another time, another place, my experience may not have been the same. And I'll never be back in that same situation. I realize it won't be like that. But it doesn't matter. Those friends will still be there - I'll still visit them. That's all that matters to me. That I lived in the most beautiful country, sculpted by God's own hands, amongst the most gracious people and left with an experience that will live in my heart forever.
Not many people can say they KNOW a place. Sure, a lot of people can claim to know a place - everyone who goes on vacation somewhere for any length of time comes back like they've lived there all their lives. But I feel like one of the lucky few. I've lived in a place so unreal sometimes I still have trouble grasping that it happened. I consider myself one of the few who needs not CLAIM to know a place, but to have lived amongst its people, spoken the language, eaten the food, witnessed the history, touched the past and felt its awesome presence enough to know its heart and soul.
I know Scotland. I am Scotland. It's as much a part of me as my beating heart or my soul - and no one, NO ONE, can take that away from me.
And one day soon, as sure as the sun will rise, I will reconnect myself with my heart and soul.
Scotland, I am and always will be, forever yours. Thank you.
Wednesday 15 June 2011
Tuesday 3 May 2011
True Love
Being in love is when you and your closest family abroad go on a major grocery run, making tons of food for each other while listening to great music, heading out under the starlight and laughter to play football in the dark, coming home and drinking in good company into the wee hours, and then having your heart break at the thought of leaving it all behind. I love these people and this place. It's definately not going to be easy going home...
Thursday 28 April 2011
Bliss
Bliss = being surrounded in the kitchen by flatmates who I've come to love, listening to the Beatles and laughing whilst cooking dinner and cleaning the dishes - jokes flying, smiles shinning. There's no place I'd rather be. God will I miss it here.
London Calling
I know I've been back for a few days, but since everyone else is working today I decided to sit down and get some work done on my blog.
SO - just came back from London on Monday. It's a great place to go if you ever get the chance to, however, there are some tips I would recommend to any future travellers to London. Firstly be aware of the prices and exchange rates. London (as I am sure you're aware) is expensive - but it may be more so than you initially think! The tourist traps especially. LOOK OUT for them, they are lurking around every corner. One store will claim to have trinkets no other store carries, but the basic London shot glass, t-shirt, poster, you name it can be found somewhere else for so much cheaper. Certain things are harder to find, such as person specific items, like Sherlock Holmes, the Beatles, etc. Those tend to be centered around where they were (Abbey Road, Baker St, etc - Beatles store is actually nowhere near Abbey Road, it's on Baker st next to the Sherlock Holmes museum!)
Also - take advantage of the free things. The Natural History Museum, The National Galleries, The British Museum, WALKING, attending a service at a famous cathedral. These things are enjoyable and save you lots of money - especially since the dollar isn't doing so well at the moment. Walk wherever you can - and give yourself time. London's public transportation is wonderful but on a weekend night or an evening, traffic can run amok with your evening plans if you decide to take a bus or the tube. Packed quarters and slow traffic may make you late or ruin your chances of catching a last minute movie/restaraunt/sight to see. Also be very aware of tube closures when you arrive - this will save you time and grief when planning your stops for the day. There's nothing more frustrating than attempting to get somewhere only to find your original route shut down and you haven't planned a B.
And when you have this thought (as most of us do) - "I'll get there early and beat the lines of tourists" - DON'T!! We thought we'd get to Westminster right as it opened in order to beat the rush (we figured people are on vacation, who'd be getting up at seven to go see a church?) and ended up waiting in line to get in for an hour and a half, which completely messed up the rest of the day for us. We ended up running to Windsor and only spending a few hours there instead of the whole afternoon. And for those of you who know me - I HATE running through things. So - as we stood in line, we noticed that the later in the day, the less the line became. In fact, on our way out, we noted that the line wasn't even HALF of what it was at nine in the morning. SO - Think the opposite of the opposite. But ONLY on holiday weekends. Most of the time, the "beat the crowd" technique works.
FINALLY - avoid Holiday weekends (Royal Wedding was the week we went, that made it all the worse). Things are shut down, open less, closed to tourists and overall messy on such weekends. And the other tourists are RUDE on said weekends, as its all about "doing what I want, when I want, and screw anyone else who also has somewhere to go and something to see". Trust me on this - I was skipped in line, cut off, bumped, pushed, walked into, cut off, blocked, remarked about, gestured at, and other rude things from fellow tourists while just standing in line!
BUT - DESPITE all of these unlucky woes, we did see some awesome things. After a day of major fails with Good Friday having everything closed down, we managed to get into the Temple area and visit Temple Church, famed in the Da Vinci Code films, but also in history for having been built by the Knights Templar. It was small but gorgeous, and a bit of a win for that day. We also saw the Globe Theatre, something I'd never managed to get to in the past, and being a Shakespeare fan, it was neat to see the third reconstruction of the original (burnt down a lot over time).
We also, once in Westminster Abbey, got an audio tour which was narrated by Jeremy Irons - how cool?! got to revisit some historical figures I never really appreciated when I was little when I came the first time. I touched the tomb of Elizabeth I, in my opinion a brilliant monarch and a personal idol. Her tomb was gorgeous, and as I listened to the music accompanying the tour, I was brought to small tears as I touched her marble effigy. It was a moving experience. Also very touching was seeing Mary, Queen of Scots, Jane Austin and the Bronte sisters, and touching them all. To think, I was inches from the remains of historical figures that I've been studying about for the last semester! Also in Westminster is Newton's tomb - that was cool. And seeing Will and Kate's wedding flowers being arranged and some already set up? That was pretty neat too.
We attended a service at St. Paul's - as it was getting expensive to get into things by this point, and services are free! But it was beautiful - mid-afternoon sun slanting in from on high amongst the gilded dome, a choir chanting, a priest reading poems and passages from the bible. It was very atmospheric, and humbling to sit beneath such architechture and think that man built that!
We saw the play War Horse, something I've been meaning to do since my good friend Sarah came back from London gushing about it - and it was everything I hoped! It was fantastic - the story, the puppets, the theatre (front row seats!), the actors, the music - it was all good! I didn't cry like I expected to, but I was very moved overall by the whole thing. I highly recommend it to anyone who likes a good play, enjoys something new, loves horses, is a history buff, or anyone period! It has something for everyone - humor, joy, sadness, epic scenes and touching moments. It's an experience not to be missed!
We also - much to my delight, went to Abbey Road and re-created, as one must do, the famous album cover of the Beatles. A hint for other Beatle nuts - GET THERE EARLY. Preferribly between nine and ten, as rush hour traffic is died down and most of the tourists start arriving around ten-eleven. And watch out for cars. The locals don't exactly enjoy being held up on their way to work so a bunch of giggling girls can get their photo taken. A lot of drivers respect the famous crossing, but most will not. Be aware of that - and check the abbey road studios website, you can see for yourself the traffic, busy hours and the danger! But it was awesome to take a photo there - especially because I got to be John Lennon - my favorite Beatle. You can thank my mum and my flatmates for my lasting obsession with the Beatles. They're one band I'll be listening to for a LONG time :-).
Baker street was next on the list - it was a tourist trap, unfortunately. Unless you're a HUGE literature buff or a UBER fan - don't bother going in the museum. It costs 6 pounds, and its a set up of the Detective and Doctor's house as it was in the novels. The shop is also over priced. Keychains run at 3 to 6 pounds, while mugs and shot glasses range anywhere from 6 to 12 pounds. Not worth it. Though I was geeked to see the place of Sherlock Holmes (fan of both film and novel) I didn't bother buying anything or going in the museum - but I did get my picture taken!
Windsor is a must see. The castle is GORGEOUS, and the grounds are even prettier. The town itself is lovely, and a great place to get some grub before and after a lengthy wander of the castle and cathedral. The Drury House is a recommended tea stop to any traveller. And Windsor is handy to get to - its only about an hour train ride from central London, and costs about 5pounds with return so long as you have a railcard. The castle itself is expensive to get into, but its well worth it. You'll be awed by the gilded state apartments and the beautiful St. George's Hall - and you may even get a peak at the royal family, who frequently inhabit the side of the castle the tourists aren't allowed to see! While we were there, we were told that the Queen, Prince Charles and William were all across the courtyard! How cool! I saw the wedding flowers, and I was only yards away from Will himself!
The Natural History Museum is said to take two hours to get through. We were there for that long and didn't even get through half. It's a gorgeous buidling with a lot of awesome things inside, so much in fact, that it was a bit overwhelming at times! But worth it - I saw specimins there that I wouldn't see back at the Milwaukee Museum just because of its sheer size. For example - ever stand next to an actual Blue Whale? No? Well, you can at the Natural History Museum and I can tell you, you never feel so small as you do next to THAT. It's a relaxing wander if you're looking for something the kids will enjoy too, or for those who just like musuems. The BRITISH MUSEUM, however, is the crown jewel of all museums. It contains things I'd never in my life thought I'd see. Panels from the Pantheon, the Roesetta stone, the head of Rames III, Cleopatra's mummy, the famed winged oxen of Assyria, artifacts from Mesopotamia, Babalyon and other ancient civilizations. And it was free to get into! Bonus! But - BUYER BEWARE, this museum takes an ENTIRE DAY to get through. We only had two hours to spare and didn't get to see much! The audio tour would be worth it as well (its not free but I would have paid for it) as you an pick and choose which items you want to hear more about. It's helpful too that it doesn't matter what order you go in, so if you're only interested in the Eygpt and European rooms, for example, you can go straight there and pick the numbers you want to hear about. But this too, will take all day. Each case of artifacts contains HUNDREDS of things, all with descriptions and numbers. It's a great place to visit if you want to kill an entire day! (In a good way!)
Overall, it was a great time - I did miss seeing some things I wanted to see (Tower of London, London Eye, Tower Bridge) but I got to see other that I'd never been to before (War Horse, Temple Church, the Globe, Baker St, Abbey Road). I'd love to go back to London again, but I'd make sure that it wasn't on a holiday or the weekend before a Royal Wedding! Oh well, you live and you learn. At least now I can navigate the tube system with no problem. May come in handy again sometime, right? My next trip is Rome with my flatmate Saori. I hope its a bit less of a fail! We plan on seeing the Vatican, the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, Castel Sant Angelo, Maria Del Popolo, the Parthenon, hear the Pope speak, and eat great food. I look forward to it.
But for now I'll say good bye - and good luck to Will and Kate! All hail the future King of Great Britain!
SO - just came back from London on Monday. It's a great place to go if you ever get the chance to, however, there are some tips I would recommend to any future travellers to London. Firstly be aware of the prices and exchange rates. London (as I am sure you're aware) is expensive - but it may be more so than you initially think! The tourist traps especially. LOOK OUT for them, they are lurking around every corner. One store will claim to have trinkets no other store carries, but the basic London shot glass, t-shirt, poster, you name it can be found somewhere else for so much cheaper. Certain things are harder to find, such as person specific items, like Sherlock Holmes, the Beatles, etc. Those tend to be centered around where they were (Abbey Road, Baker St, etc - Beatles store is actually nowhere near Abbey Road, it's on Baker st next to the Sherlock Holmes museum!)
Also - take advantage of the free things. The Natural History Museum, The National Galleries, The British Museum, WALKING, attending a service at a famous cathedral. These things are enjoyable and save you lots of money - especially since the dollar isn't doing so well at the moment. Walk wherever you can - and give yourself time. London's public transportation is wonderful but on a weekend night or an evening, traffic can run amok with your evening plans if you decide to take a bus or the tube. Packed quarters and slow traffic may make you late or ruin your chances of catching a last minute movie/restaraunt/sight to see. Also be very aware of tube closures when you arrive - this will save you time and grief when planning your stops for the day. There's nothing more frustrating than attempting to get somewhere only to find your original route shut down and you haven't planned a B.
And when you have this thought (as most of us do) - "I'll get there early and beat the lines of tourists" - DON'T!! We thought we'd get to Westminster right as it opened in order to beat the rush (we figured people are on vacation, who'd be getting up at seven to go see a church?) and ended up waiting in line to get in for an hour and a half, which completely messed up the rest of the day for us. We ended up running to Windsor and only spending a few hours there instead of the whole afternoon. And for those of you who know me - I HATE running through things. So - as we stood in line, we noticed that the later in the day, the less the line became. In fact, on our way out, we noted that the line wasn't even HALF of what it was at nine in the morning. SO - Think the opposite of the opposite. But ONLY on holiday weekends. Most of the time, the "beat the crowd" technique works.
FINALLY - avoid Holiday weekends (Royal Wedding was the week we went, that made it all the worse). Things are shut down, open less, closed to tourists and overall messy on such weekends. And the other tourists are RUDE on said weekends, as its all about "doing what I want, when I want, and screw anyone else who also has somewhere to go and something to see". Trust me on this - I was skipped in line, cut off, bumped, pushed, walked into, cut off, blocked, remarked about, gestured at, and other rude things from fellow tourists while just standing in line!
BUT - DESPITE all of these unlucky woes, we did see some awesome things. After a day of major fails with Good Friday having everything closed down, we managed to get into the Temple area and visit Temple Church, famed in the Da Vinci Code films, but also in history for having been built by the Knights Templar. It was small but gorgeous, and a bit of a win for that day. We also saw the Globe Theatre, something I'd never managed to get to in the past, and being a Shakespeare fan, it was neat to see the third reconstruction of the original (burnt down a lot over time).
We also, once in Westminster Abbey, got an audio tour which was narrated by Jeremy Irons - how cool?! got to revisit some historical figures I never really appreciated when I was little when I came the first time. I touched the tomb of Elizabeth I, in my opinion a brilliant monarch and a personal idol. Her tomb was gorgeous, and as I listened to the music accompanying the tour, I was brought to small tears as I touched her marble effigy. It was a moving experience. Also very touching was seeing Mary, Queen of Scots, Jane Austin and the Bronte sisters, and touching them all. To think, I was inches from the remains of historical figures that I've been studying about for the last semester! Also in Westminster is Newton's tomb - that was cool. And seeing Will and Kate's wedding flowers being arranged and some already set up? That was pretty neat too.
We attended a service at St. Paul's - as it was getting expensive to get into things by this point, and services are free! But it was beautiful - mid-afternoon sun slanting in from on high amongst the gilded dome, a choir chanting, a priest reading poems and passages from the bible. It was very atmospheric, and humbling to sit beneath such architechture and think that man built that!
We saw the play War Horse, something I've been meaning to do since my good friend Sarah came back from London gushing about it - and it was everything I hoped! It was fantastic - the story, the puppets, the theatre (front row seats!), the actors, the music - it was all good! I didn't cry like I expected to, but I was very moved overall by the whole thing. I highly recommend it to anyone who likes a good play, enjoys something new, loves horses, is a history buff, or anyone period! It has something for everyone - humor, joy, sadness, epic scenes and touching moments. It's an experience not to be missed!
We also - much to my delight, went to Abbey Road and re-created, as one must do, the famous album cover of the Beatles. A hint for other Beatle nuts - GET THERE EARLY. Preferribly between nine and ten, as rush hour traffic is died down and most of the tourists start arriving around ten-eleven. And watch out for cars. The locals don't exactly enjoy being held up on their way to work so a bunch of giggling girls can get their photo taken. A lot of drivers respect the famous crossing, but most will not. Be aware of that - and check the abbey road studios website, you can see for yourself the traffic, busy hours and the danger! But it was awesome to take a photo there - especially because I got to be John Lennon - my favorite Beatle. You can thank my mum and my flatmates for my lasting obsession with the Beatles. They're one band I'll be listening to for a LONG time :-).
Baker street was next on the list - it was a tourist trap, unfortunately. Unless you're a HUGE literature buff or a UBER fan - don't bother going in the museum. It costs 6 pounds, and its a set up of the Detective and Doctor's house as it was in the novels. The shop is also over priced. Keychains run at 3 to 6 pounds, while mugs and shot glasses range anywhere from 6 to 12 pounds. Not worth it. Though I was geeked to see the place of Sherlock Holmes (fan of both film and novel) I didn't bother buying anything or going in the museum - but I did get my picture taken!
Windsor is a must see. The castle is GORGEOUS, and the grounds are even prettier. The town itself is lovely, and a great place to get some grub before and after a lengthy wander of the castle and cathedral. The Drury House is a recommended tea stop to any traveller. And Windsor is handy to get to - its only about an hour train ride from central London, and costs about 5pounds with return so long as you have a railcard. The castle itself is expensive to get into, but its well worth it. You'll be awed by the gilded state apartments and the beautiful St. George's Hall - and you may even get a peak at the royal family, who frequently inhabit the side of the castle the tourists aren't allowed to see! While we were there, we were told that the Queen, Prince Charles and William were all across the courtyard! How cool! I saw the wedding flowers, and I was only yards away from Will himself!
The Natural History Museum is said to take two hours to get through. We were there for that long and didn't even get through half. It's a gorgeous buidling with a lot of awesome things inside, so much in fact, that it was a bit overwhelming at times! But worth it - I saw specimins there that I wouldn't see back at the Milwaukee Museum just because of its sheer size. For example - ever stand next to an actual Blue Whale? No? Well, you can at the Natural History Museum and I can tell you, you never feel so small as you do next to THAT. It's a relaxing wander if you're looking for something the kids will enjoy too, or for those who just like musuems. The BRITISH MUSEUM, however, is the crown jewel of all museums. It contains things I'd never in my life thought I'd see. Panels from the Pantheon, the Roesetta stone, the head of Rames III, Cleopatra's mummy, the famed winged oxen of Assyria, artifacts from Mesopotamia, Babalyon and other ancient civilizations. And it was free to get into! Bonus! But - BUYER BEWARE, this museum takes an ENTIRE DAY to get through. We only had two hours to spare and didn't get to see much! The audio tour would be worth it as well (its not free but I would have paid for it) as you an pick and choose which items you want to hear more about. It's helpful too that it doesn't matter what order you go in, so if you're only interested in the Eygpt and European rooms, for example, you can go straight there and pick the numbers you want to hear about. But this too, will take all day. Each case of artifacts contains HUNDREDS of things, all with descriptions and numbers. It's a great place to visit if you want to kill an entire day! (In a good way!)
Overall, it was a great time - I did miss seeing some things I wanted to see (Tower of London, London Eye, Tower Bridge) but I got to see other that I'd never been to before (War Horse, Temple Church, the Globe, Baker St, Abbey Road). I'd love to go back to London again, but I'd make sure that it wasn't on a holiday or the weekend before a Royal Wedding! Oh well, you live and you learn. At least now I can navigate the tube system with no problem. May come in handy again sometime, right? My next trip is Rome with my flatmate Saori. I hope its a bit less of a fail! We plan on seeing the Vatican, the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, Castel Sant Angelo, Maria Del Popolo, the Parthenon, hear the Pope speak, and eat great food. I look forward to it.
But for now I'll say good bye - and good luck to Will and Kate! All hail the future King of Great Britain!
Saturday 9 April 2011
Of Emerald Isles and Cameras Dying
Well, I know I've been back for a bit from my trip to Ireland, but I haven't really had time to sit down and blog about it until now. It's been busy for me here, for those of you who know what's going on in my academic life - there were some issues regarding graduation, but I believe it's all fixed now, so I'll get off the topic. No need to waste good memories with a bad one.
Ireland. Well, what can I say? First, Ireland will always be my first love in the British Isles. But my heart belongs to Scotland now. I say that because of the disenchantment I faced while on tour of my ancestral home. Ireland, though still gorgeous, has changed. They've gone and commercialized a great deal of the natural beauty. I remember from when I was 10 - the sense of wonder and awe at the beautiful natural wonders of the Cliffs of Moher and other things. Upon my return I discovered a shoulder high fence thrown up around most of the cliffs. I understand the safety issue that the Cliffs present, but by putting those fences up the natural beauty is half lost behind walls of slate. I mean, if people are going to throw themselves off the Cliffs in what they think is a poetic death, is a fence really going to stop them? Sure, they may pause for a second, but there's no one walking around and PREVENTING people from climbing over or jumping off. The fence just ruins the view. Oh, well, that and the gift shops and the museum carved into the hillside next to the brand new parking lot that greets you when you pull up. Completely uncalled for. I understand here as well that tourism happens to be a big deal for Ireland, but come on. Really? Do we have to belittle and commercialize everything with little plushie leprachauns and pins for every clan name including "Hernandez"? (Honest to God, we saw a lot of Spanish last names given clan crests and little descriptions - GROSS.)
Enough of the negative though. I saw a lot more of the cultural side this time around. Being 21 puts a whole new spin on things. The best part of all the trip was, I'm sure you're astonished, is the night life in the local pubs. No - not because I can legally drink now. It's because to know a people, you have to sit and talk with them. In order to know where you're going, you have to know where you came from.
The people in Ireland know how to live. They get work out of the way and then leave it there. They don't bring work home, or the problems they faced there. They go home, they enjoy family, and then they go enjoy traditional Irish music or a live band at a pub with tons of strangers and make everyone feel at home. I don't think there was a single pub we went into that the people didn't treat us like family, didn't engage us in conversation, or didn't join in with the dancing. It's a friendly place. If you ever find yourself wandering the Emerald Isle, make a point of stopping in and enjoying a locally recommended pub. Avoid the tourist traps and the pubs recommended by the tourist information booths. Ask a local. They know where the real fun is to be had.
And the men. Ha. Well, the Irish men sure know how to charm. I can't even remember all the celebrities they said I looked like or reminded them of - all attractive too. I got mistaken for a celebrity actually in a pub in Ennis. It was very flattering. The men are gentlemen too - they judge you by your character. If an attractive woman is sitting alone in a pub, you can bet her personality is chaffing or abrasive. They enjoy the company of people, even tourists, who aren't snobbish, rich spendthrifts, or foolish. They test you once and a while to see where you fall in the spectrum. Thank god for my level head! I won't ramble on here - I could go on for ages about the well raised young men. All I can say is - American boys? You've got a lot of lessons to learn from these guys. Good luck catching up.
I also made some new friends, three American girls studying here with me at Stirling and one of them at St. Andrews. They became my partners in crime. We were Team America. It made the fun so much more enjoyable - they made the experience wonderful, when it was otherwise just okay. I couldn't have wished for three better companions to brighten the Irish skies!
The weather - what a wonder! Apparently I have the best luck this year when it comes to weather. It was clear everyday except for one, in which it drizzled for an hour, got foggy, then cleared up. It made some of the drives so much more beautiful. Especially the drive from Dingle to Galway, passing through the Burren and others. Its listed among the top ten most senic drives in the world. It's like stepping into Lord of the Rings or some Medeival fantasy. You can just see the ancient Irishmen on horseback riding to a fortress in the distance or sweeping by on some errant mission. (How romantic of me, right?) But again, if you ever get a chance - wander that road. It'll take your breath away. (Preferrably listening to your faveorite movie score or soundtrack. Or Irish traditional music. Either works. ;-D ).
And on the broken cameras...oh the cameras. On the beach that stole a part of my soul, I was attempting to place my socks and shoes back on without getting sand in them and dropped my camera right into the sand I was trying to avoid. My quick snatch and squeal of frustration was not enough to save my poor camera. As I swiped the sand away (BAD MOVE I've come to realize - it forces the sand into the rings of the lens) I tried to turn it on. There was a distinctive crunch as sand jammed into the rings that extend the lens, and the LCD screen read "lens error" in frightening bold letters. Great. I'm halfway through Ireland and my fecking camera takes a shite on me. Luck of the Irish, right?
Well, as a morose two hours pass by in which my companions and guides manage to get my mind off the camera, I finally got into a photo shop in Dingle, where I scared the living daylights out of the shop owner. I had been waiting outside the door for it to open - and he came around the other corner and I happened to be standing right there. Poor guy. But, he is the hero of this tale. The last time I'd been in Dingle I was 10. I remember that city fondly. I knew I had to get a photograph of myself on the monument to the dolphin Fungie, like I had when I was 10. Sort of a full circle thing. You know? Problem was, my camera, as previously stated, was in a bad way.
John, the shopowner, got an aresol can of air (computer cleaning thing...you know) and then informed me that he could try, but there was no gaurntee that it would work, and even if it did, the lens could be stuck open and exposed for the rest of the camera's life. I didn't care at that point. I wasn't going through Ireland without a camera! He worked some magic, I'll tell you, as the camera spat sand everywhere, then turned on just as if it was never broken. I almost leapt across the counter and hugged him. Scared him again. So - with tears in my eyes and an explination as to why it meant so much to me, I shook his hand. When I asked how much I owed him for his help, he smiled and said "How about next time you're in Dingle you stop in and say hello - that's payment enough for me."
Well, Mum and Dad - if you're in Dingle - you'll have to go shake John's hand for me. Just ask a local where his shop is. He'll be happy to meet you. Maybe I'll do it myself in the next twenty years, when I go back to Ireland to get back that little piece of my soul I left behind.
Though I may be in love with Scotland now, and despite all of the disenchantment I experienced while back in Ireland, I'll always love and belong there. No matter what. That piece of my soul I'm glad to leave behind in a fair country like Ireland.
Ireland, you've got me for the next twenty years. Be gentle.
Ireland. Well, what can I say? First, Ireland will always be my first love in the British Isles. But my heart belongs to Scotland now. I say that because of the disenchantment I faced while on tour of my ancestral home. Ireland, though still gorgeous, has changed. They've gone and commercialized a great deal of the natural beauty. I remember from when I was 10 - the sense of wonder and awe at the beautiful natural wonders of the Cliffs of Moher and other things. Upon my return I discovered a shoulder high fence thrown up around most of the cliffs. I understand the safety issue that the Cliffs present, but by putting those fences up the natural beauty is half lost behind walls of slate. I mean, if people are going to throw themselves off the Cliffs in what they think is a poetic death, is a fence really going to stop them? Sure, they may pause for a second, but there's no one walking around and PREVENTING people from climbing over or jumping off. The fence just ruins the view. Oh, well, that and the gift shops and the museum carved into the hillside next to the brand new parking lot that greets you when you pull up. Completely uncalled for. I understand here as well that tourism happens to be a big deal for Ireland, but come on. Really? Do we have to belittle and commercialize everything with little plushie leprachauns and pins for every clan name including "Hernandez"? (Honest to God, we saw a lot of Spanish last names given clan crests and little descriptions - GROSS.)
Enough of the negative though. I saw a lot more of the cultural side this time around. Being 21 puts a whole new spin on things. The best part of all the trip was, I'm sure you're astonished, is the night life in the local pubs. No - not because I can legally drink now. It's because to know a people, you have to sit and talk with them. In order to know where you're going, you have to know where you came from.
The people in Ireland know how to live. They get work out of the way and then leave it there. They don't bring work home, or the problems they faced there. They go home, they enjoy family, and then they go enjoy traditional Irish music or a live band at a pub with tons of strangers and make everyone feel at home. I don't think there was a single pub we went into that the people didn't treat us like family, didn't engage us in conversation, or didn't join in with the dancing. It's a friendly place. If you ever find yourself wandering the Emerald Isle, make a point of stopping in and enjoying a locally recommended pub. Avoid the tourist traps and the pubs recommended by the tourist information booths. Ask a local. They know where the real fun is to be had.
And the men. Ha. Well, the Irish men sure know how to charm. I can't even remember all the celebrities they said I looked like or reminded them of - all attractive too. I got mistaken for a celebrity actually in a pub in Ennis. It was very flattering. The men are gentlemen too - they judge you by your character. If an attractive woman is sitting alone in a pub, you can bet her personality is chaffing or abrasive. They enjoy the company of people, even tourists, who aren't snobbish, rich spendthrifts, or foolish. They test you once and a while to see where you fall in the spectrum. Thank god for my level head! I won't ramble on here - I could go on for ages about the well raised young men. All I can say is - American boys? You've got a lot of lessons to learn from these guys. Good luck catching up.
I also made some new friends, three American girls studying here with me at Stirling and one of them at St. Andrews. They became my partners in crime. We were Team America. It made the fun so much more enjoyable - they made the experience wonderful, when it was otherwise just okay. I couldn't have wished for three better companions to brighten the Irish skies!
The weather - what a wonder! Apparently I have the best luck this year when it comes to weather. It was clear everyday except for one, in which it drizzled for an hour, got foggy, then cleared up. It made some of the drives so much more beautiful. Especially the drive from Dingle to Galway, passing through the Burren and others. Its listed among the top ten most senic drives in the world. It's like stepping into Lord of the Rings or some Medeival fantasy. You can just see the ancient Irishmen on horseback riding to a fortress in the distance or sweeping by on some errant mission. (How romantic of me, right?) But again, if you ever get a chance - wander that road. It'll take your breath away. (Preferrably listening to your faveorite movie score or soundtrack. Or Irish traditional music. Either works. ;-D ).
And on the broken cameras...oh the cameras. On the beach that stole a part of my soul, I was attempting to place my socks and shoes back on without getting sand in them and dropped my camera right into the sand I was trying to avoid. My quick snatch and squeal of frustration was not enough to save my poor camera. As I swiped the sand away (BAD MOVE I've come to realize - it forces the sand into the rings of the lens) I tried to turn it on. There was a distinctive crunch as sand jammed into the rings that extend the lens, and the LCD screen read "lens error" in frightening bold letters. Great. I'm halfway through Ireland and my fecking camera takes a shite on me. Luck of the Irish, right?
Well, as a morose two hours pass by in which my companions and guides manage to get my mind off the camera, I finally got into a photo shop in Dingle, where I scared the living daylights out of the shop owner. I had been waiting outside the door for it to open - and he came around the other corner and I happened to be standing right there. Poor guy. But, he is the hero of this tale. The last time I'd been in Dingle I was 10. I remember that city fondly. I knew I had to get a photograph of myself on the monument to the dolphin Fungie, like I had when I was 10. Sort of a full circle thing. You know? Problem was, my camera, as previously stated, was in a bad way.
John, the shopowner, got an aresol can of air (computer cleaning thing...you know) and then informed me that he could try, but there was no gaurntee that it would work, and even if it did, the lens could be stuck open and exposed for the rest of the camera's life. I didn't care at that point. I wasn't going through Ireland without a camera! He worked some magic, I'll tell you, as the camera spat sand everywhere, then turned on just as if it was never broken. I almost leapt across the counter and hugged him. Scared him again. So - with tears in my eyes and an explination as to why it meant so much to me, I shook his hand. When I asked how much I owed him for his help, he smiled and said "How about next time you're in Dingle you stop in and say hello - that's payment enough for me."
Well, Mum and Dad - if you're in Dingle - you'll have to go shake John's hand for me. Just ask a local where his shop is. He'll be happy to meet you. Maybe I'll do it myself in the next twenty years, when I go back to Ireland to get back that little piece of my soul I left behind.
Though I may be in love with Scotland now, and despite all of the disenchantment I experienced while back in Ireland, I'll always love and belong there. No matter what. That piece of my soul I'm glad to leave behind in a fair country like Ireland.
Ireland, you've got me for the next twenty years. Be gentle.
Wednesday 23 March 2011
It's the Great Scottish Spring, Charlie Brown!
Well I'm back after a bit of a hiatus on writing posts...
You know that saying; 'In like a lion, out like a lamb'? Well it couldn't describe the Scottish Spring any better. It started off with howling winds, driving rains, a snowstorm and a washing of sleet - as if the weather was saying 'Remember that lovely weather you arrived in? Sucker!' Oh well - it appears the worst is over now, and the weather is steadily warming up, the trees have buds and the Daffodils are sprouting everywhere you look. Its beautiful here, even more so than it was in February, and I know I said it was gorgeous. The heather has even started to bloom - whites and purples like blankets across the high peaks and craigs, and even in nicely potted gardens outside academic buildings. You don't see that back home - that's for sure.
Along with this nice weather has come a number of things - first of all, an unlikely friend and ally. I won't lie, upon meeting Tyla, my first instinct was that it would be tough to get along with her - it just felt like our personalities might clash. Boy, was I wrong. While my first ally upon arriving, Cara, has slowly faded into the background, I'm finding myself more and more drawn to Tyla and Saori. We have more in common than I ever imagined. Maybe its the stress of school work, maybe it's something else, but Cara has withdrawn a bit and seems more introverted than initially. Tyla, on the other hand, has become my go-to girl.
While Cara and a few of the others are content with blazing through seven museums in a day, I've discovered a fellow wanderer in Tyla. She enjoys taking her time and getting the feel for a place, rather than just being able to say she saw it, or she was there. Same goes for Saori. In fact, as plans fell apart around me, I began making new plans with Saori and Tyla, and lo and behold everything is working out. Its a wonder to find fellows in historical enjoyment and theater taste.
Because of these new developments in my personal relationships, I'm planning trips to places I thought I'd never see. On April 21st - 24th the three of us will be heading down to London, and perhaps spending an afternoon at Windsor. Also, I'm finally going to see the play War Horse, which I've been dying to see since Sarah told me about it in Janruary - I've actually got a front row seat, bought and paid for! We also plan on making a trip to Westminister, St. Pauls, Tower of London, the Globe, Baker St, Abbery Road and a few other little places along the way. I can only say I'm very excited about this trip!
A HUGE deal for me is the trip we intend to take in May. To Rome. To see the VATICAN. In all my dreams I never thought I'd get there until I was 30 or so, but here I am, 21, checking the airfares and planning the routes/days. I cannot wait to see the Colesseum, Castel Sant Angelo, Trevi Fountain, Fountain of the Four Rivers, the Pantheon and the Vatican most of all.
But, while this trip is my most anticipated, it is also causing me the most worry. Airfare is jumping up every night by 10 pounds - which is adding up to a lot of money. We can either go before exams, which we can book airfare now and get the cheap seats as well as being guarenteed to not have interference with studying - OR - we can wait until the final schedule comes out in April and plan around exams, and pay more. I'm stuck between a rock and a mentally hard place here. This may sound silly, but I feel like I'm on a mission to get to the Vatican, and nothing's going to stop me from getting there. But you'll be surprised how much stopping power cost can have. Yes, I can borrow a little bit if need be, and yes, I can work it off no problem. I was convinced on waiting to see what happened with exams, thank you to my wonderfully level headed mother for that, but now, with arifare creeping up on 170.00, I'm not sure what to do! (I can only imagine how far its going to climb by April...UGH)
On a happier note, I am off to the Emerald Isle on Sunday morning for a week rediscovering my roots there. Its a five day tour around the entire Island (except for Northern Ireland), and I cannot wait to go!
So, in short, the weather's nice, the trips are falling into place, and I'm between a rock and a hard place with my mission to Rome. But, so far, things have worked out perfectly. So long as I don't spend on silly things, watch my grocery bill and try to do less laundry, I think I can pull the trip to Rome. Here's for hoping.
You know that saying; 'In like a lion, out like a lamb'? Well it couldn't describe the Scottish Spring any better. It started off with howling winds, driving rains, a snowstorm and a washing of sleet - as if the weather was saying 'Remember that lovely weather you arrived in? Sucker!' Oh well - it appears the worst is over now, and the weather is steadily warming up, the trees have buds and the Daffodils are sprouting everywhere you look. Its beautiful here, even more so than it was in February, and I know I said it was gorgeous. The heather has even started to bloom - whites and purples like blankets across the high peaks and craigs, and even in nicely potted gardens outside academic buildings. You don't see that back home - that's for sure.
Along with this nice weather has come a number of things - first of all, an unlikely friend and ally. I won't lie, upon meeting Tyla, my first instinct was that it would be tough to get along with her - it just felt like our personalities might clash. Boy, was I wrong. While my first ally upon arriving, Cara, has slowly faded into the background, I'm finding myself more and more drawn to Tyla and Saori. We have more in common than I ever imagined. Maybe its the stress of school work, maybe it's something else, but Cara has withdrawn a bit and seems more introverted than initially. Tyla, on the other hand, has become my go-to girl.
While Cara and a few of the others are content with blazing through seven museums in a day, I've discovered a fellow wanderer in Tyla. She enjoys taking her time and getting the feel for a place, rather than just being able to say she saw it, or she was there. Same goes for Saori. In fact, as plans fell apart around me, I began making new plans with Saori and Tyla, and lo and behold everything is working out. Its a wonder to find fellows in historical enjoyment and theater taste.
Because of these new developments in my personal relationships, I'm planning trips to places I thought I'd never see. On April 21st - 24th the three of us will be heading down to London, and perhaps spending an afternoon at Windsor. Also, I'm finally going to see the play War Horse, which I've been dying to see since Sarah told me about it in Janruary - I've actually got a front row seat, bought and paid for! We also plan on making a trip to Westminister, St. Pauls, Tower of London, the Globe, Baker St, Abbery Road and a few other little places along the way. I can only say I'm very excited about this trip!
A HUGE deal for me is the trip we intend to take in May. To Rome. To see the VATICAN. In all my dreams I never thought I'd get there until I was 30 or so, but here I am, 21, checking the airfares and planning the routes/days. I cannot wait to see the Colesseum, Castel Sant Angelo, Trevi Fountain, Fountain of the Four Rivers, the Pantheon and the Vatican most of all.
But, while this trip is my most anticipated, it is also causing me the most worry. Airfare is jumping up every night by 10 pounds - which is adding up to a lot of money. We can either go before exams, which we can book airfare now and get the cheap seats as well as being guarenteed to not have interference with studying - OR - we can wait until the final schedule comes out in April and plan around exams, and pay more. I'm stuck between a rock and a mentally hard place here. This may sound silly, but I feel like I'm on a mission to get to the Vatican, and nothing's going to stop me from getting there. But you'll be surprised how much stopping power cost can have. Yes, I can borrow a little bit if need be, and yes, I can work it off no problem. I was convinced on waiting to see what happened with exams, thank you to my wonderfully level headed mother for that, but now, with arifare creeping up on 170.00, I'm not sure what to do! (I can only imagine how far its going to climb by April...UGH)
On a happier note, I am off to the Emerald Isle on Sunday morning for a week rediscovering my roots there. Its a five day tour around the entire Island (except for Northern Ireland), and I cannot wait to go!
So, in short, the weather's nice, the trips are falling into place, and I'm between a rock and a hard place with my mission to Rome. But, so far, things have worked out perfectly. So long as I don't spend on silly things, watch my grocery bill and try to do less laundry, I think I can pull the trip to Rome. Here's for hoping.
Wednesday 2 March 2011
Changing Our Way of Life
Been thinking lately about the American vs UK way of life, and how much we could learn from our ancient brethern across the pond. I feel like all we do in America is live to work. We're constantly on the run, working 8-10 hour days, driving miles and miles to work, running errands, eating on the run, going to the malls and shops after work so that we don't return until after dinner. It's like we're content to always be moving, as if the standard of living is achieved by how much one can accomplish in a day.
Well - I've come to the conclusion that we're dead wrong. One should not measure their day by how many errands they've run or how many hours its been since one has been able to sit down. They should measure it by how many hours they've spent in good company, or eating a homemade meal with friends and family, about how many places they've travelled leisurely in the past year.
Coming to this conclusion was easy enough via observation. The shops here close down at 5:30pm, and on Saturdays they close down around noon, with none really open on Sundays. Though it startled me at first, as I was still running on the American, open 24 hours or until midnight sort of schedule, I have come to appreciate it. The early closing time fits with the work schedules over here, as it gives people enough time to get to the store, grab a few things for dinner, and then be at home or do whatever they please afterwards. Walking the campus at night, once dinner time rolls around, laughter rings out of every open kitchen window, often accompanied by music. People tend to gather and enjoy each others company, or go for walks or go to play a sport together. They're not always running errands or complaining about the length of their day. They're markedly happier here because of the societal schedule.
Yes, things still run on a schedule around here - just because they care more about spending time with people than objects, doesn't mean they start classes or other things whenever it suits them. They get it done and get on with their lives. And they do it cheerfully. Haven't met a single Scottish grump since I've been here. Try saying that after spending almost three weeks in America. Bet you couldn't!
Hey America - you could learn a thing or two from Scotland.
Well - I've come to the conclusion that we're dead wrong. One should not measure their day by how many errands they've run or how many hours its been since one has been able to sit down. They should measure it by how many hours they've spent in good company, or eating a homemade meal with friends and family, about how many places they've travelled leisurely in the past year.
Coming to this conclusion was easy enough via observation. The shops here close down at 5:30pm, and on Saturdays they close down around noon, with none really open on Sundays. Though it startled me at first, as I was still running on the American, open 24 hours or until midnight sort of schedule, I have come to appreciate it. The early closing time fits with the work schedules over here, as it gives people enough time to get to the store, grab a few things for dinner, and then be at home or do whatever they please afterwards. Walking the campus at night, once dinner time rolls around, laughter rings out of every open kitchen window, often accompanied by music. People tend to gather and enjoy each others company, or go for walks or go to play a sport together. They're not always running errands or complaining about the length of their day. They're markedly happier here because of the societal schedule.
Yes, things still run on a schedule around here - just because they care more about spending time with people than objects, doesn't mean they start classes or other things whenever it suits them. They get it done and get on with their lives. And they do it cheerfully. Haven't met a single Scottish grump since I've been here. Try saying that after spending almost three weeks in America. Bet you couldn't!
Hey America - you could learn a thing or two from Scotland.
Friday 25 February 2011
The Feel of a Place
After much reviewing of my photographs from the weekend I spent in Skye, and then talking a walk around campus and a few side roads the other day, I have come to one resounding conclusion regarding this country. Photos just don't do it any sort of justice. Sure they're pretty, vast in scope and can give you an example of what its like to be here, but that's just it - you have to BE HERE to understand the true magnificence of this place. Pictures can't let you smell the wind, taste the air, feel the ground beneath your feet. Its something without compare.
It it through this conclusion that I am now set, more than ever, to get my parents up to Skye. No one can say they've lived without experiencing that place in all its potential glory. Even when the weather was so-so, the FEEL of the place was what really got me deep down. There is nothing comparable to the way the wind off the moors stirs your heart, the way seeing the landscape roll in person leaves you speechless, the way the smell of the heather and the sound of the land imprints itself in your mind. One cannot simply see pictures of a place and say they've been there, or "how beautiful" or "it looks like so and so..". Yes, some of the landscapes here may be comparable to Western Canda or perhaps Ireland or New Zealand, but they FEEL entirely different. There is a history here that no other place can claim.
Also, on a less philisophical note - Spring is on its way! It's been two straight days of 55 degress and mostly sun, the tulips are shooting up from the spongy ground and the trees are putting out little green buds. It won't be long now before all the days get more hospitible and I can dive into hiking a bit more earnestly. The ridge (Danyat) behind Alexander Court is still tempting me daily to try and gain its peak. It defeated me the first time, but that was the sun's fault, not mine! I'll yet get up there and also climb to the Wallace Monument. Perhaps this weekend would be a good time to do that, seeing as the weather has turned for the better. But, I will add this little disclaimer regarding the weather here - its much like that of Wisconsin somedays, don't like it? Just wait five minutes and it can completely change on you.
So, though Spring is apparent, I could wake up to driving rains and grey tomorrow. But no fear, a little rain is in no way going to dampen my experience. I'm in Scotland for heaven's sake!
It it through this conclusion that I am now set, more than ever, to get my parents up to Skye. No one can say they've lived without experiencing that place in all its potential glory. Even when the weather was so-so, the FEEL of the place was what really got me deep down. There is nothing comparable to the way the wind off the moors stirs your heart, the way seeing the landscape roll in person leaves you speechless, the way the smell of the heather and the sound of the land imprints itself in your mind. One cannot simply see pictures of a place and say they've been there, or "how beautiful" or "it looks like so and so..". Yes, some of the landscapes here may be comparable to Western Canda or perhaps Ireland or New Zealand, but they FEEL entirely different. There is a history here that no other place can claim.
Also, on a less philisophical note - Spring is on its way! It's been two straight days of 55 degress and mostly sun, the tulips are shooting up from the spongy ground and the trees are putting out little green buds. It won't be long now before all the days get more hospitible and I can dive into hiking a bit more earnestly. The ridge (Danyat) behind Alexander Court is still tempting me daily to try and gain its peak. It defeated me the first time, but that was the sun's fault, not mine! I'll yet get up there and also climb to the Wallace Monument. Perhaps this weekend would be a good time to do that, seeing as the weather has turned for the better. But, I will add this little disclaimer regarding the weather here - its much like that of Wisconsin somedays, don't like it? Just wait five minutes and it can completely change on you.
So, though Spring is apparent, I could wake up to driving rains and grey tomorrow. But no fear, a little rain is in no way going to dampen my experience. I'm in Scotland for heaven's sake!
Sunday 20 February 2011
Of Faeries, Hairy Coos and the Isle of Skye...
I had thought it couldn't get any prettier than Stirling. As beautiful as it may be, there is absolutely nothing that compares to the magnificence that is the Road to the Isles and the Isle of Skye. There is nothing on earth, man-made or otherwise than can even compare with the natural majesty that those lands posess. Photographs nor words can do them proper justice. One must be in the presence of such earthreal things to really understand what I mean. I plan on getting my parents to those lands. Missing out will not do. If one misses seeing the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, one has simply not lived. Not even in the slightest.
We visited Dunkeld (City of the Celts in Gaelic), Ruthven Fort, Inverness, Loch Ness, Eilean Donnan Castle, Kyleachen, Portree, MacDonald Castle, Faerie Glen, Ben Nevis, Glen Coe, Fort William, and others...what a trip! I don't think I've ever been as blown away by scenery as I was on that three day weekend. It was like opening a fantasy novel like Lord of the Rings and strolling into it. Sorry New Zealand, but that could've been filmed in the Highlands of Scotland and it would've been more magnificent. Trust me. And hiking the moors of Scotland? One of the most moving experiences of my life.
On a sadder note, I managed to get food poisoning whilst on Isle of Skye. From Haggis. Go figure. It was uber tasty, but my digestive system decided otherwise. A lovely night spent in the bathroom. But from that, I found out one thing about myself, I'm a pretty tough cookie. The next morning, the morning I was to hike through some wilderness on Isle of Skye, I was almost unable to get out of bed the pain was so bad. But I looked at myself in the mirror and told myself to take some pain meds, suck it up and get my ass on the bus. Our first stop on the Isle was a river said to be the tears of the giantess female warrior Skea (not sure how to spell it...Gaelic after all...) who's crying for her lost lover Culachen. (A giant from Ireland - our driver told us the tale and its morale was never to trust an Irishman haha). It is said that should one put their faces into the water, they gain eternal youth and beauty. By this point, I was cold, in pain, hadn't eaten and tired as all hell, but I dragged my sorry arse down to the river and stuck my sodding face in. Like magic, my energy was restored by the cold, fresh waters. Was there magic in that land of Skye? I can't say for sure, but I'm thinking there was something to it other than myth.
By the time we hit the capital of Skye, Portree, I was sick as a dog again, but my lovely flatmate Cara managed to get me some meds at the Chemist in town. The meds knocked me out for twenty or so minutes, and when I awoke we were just about at the next stop, a brisk three mile hike into the wilderness made of breathtaking views and a gorgeous moor. By then my screaming stomach had stopped hurting, and despite having eaten nothing all day for fear of another anarchy spell by my guts, I hopped off the bus, and off I went. The rest of the day was much better, I think the hike and movement coupled with the drugs did wonders. No more illness after that.
Thank god I hadn't stayed in bed that day - I would've missed out on a gorgeous day and probably would've kicked myself after seeing photos of it. Faerie Glen, for example, was the weirdest but prettiest landscape I'd ever seen. It was as if someone had shrunken Scotland and ploped it in the middle of nowhere. I walked the Negativity Circle, giving the rest of my food poisoning and my troubles over to the faeries, and then left them an offering to ensure good luck. That night I lost my room key, and it mysteriously appeared in my handbag the next morning. Magic, again? Perhpas. ;-)
I also fed a Hairy Coo (Hairy Cow). So cute. They're the big, orange, hairy, stoner looking cows that are native to Scotland. His name was Hamish, and his girlfriend was Heather. So cute. Hence the Hairy Coos in this blog post title.
The last amazing day was topped by the magnificent Glen Coe. The sight of a terrible massacre of the MacDonald clan by the Campbell Clan of England. They were sent to make an example of the clan under orders of the leaders of England who had set a charter that stated all clans had to swear fealty to the King of England in the space of a year or be put to sword and flame. All the clans of Scotland signed said charter, save for one. The MacDonald clan of Glen Coe refused until the last minute when the chief was swayed by his people. Angry that they weren't being taken seriously by the Scottish, England ordered the Campbells to march North and make an example of the MacDonalds. Once the Campbells reached Glen Coe, the MacDonalds, seeing the tired clansmen, offered them hospitality, which, under tradition, included two weeks of water, food and shelter as well as friendship for free. The Campbells accepted, and for two weeks mingled with their victims. On the dawn of the fourteenth day, the Campbells turned on their hosts and slaughtered them in their beds. Some escaped into the mountains only to perish there in the cold. Few survived. Henceforth the name Campbell is equal to the word TRAITOR.
I had found in a little village, right before Glen Coe, I had walked into a little wool mill and tourist shop, only to find they had Clan Tartan scarves. I searched once in vain for the Wilson's tartan (my family) until by chance I came upon it hanging in the bottom row, without a tag on it. The one behind it had a tag with the family history, so I bought it, along with a silver claymore and scottish shield pin to go with. I donned them both proudly in Glen Coe to honor those who died.
I discovered the Wilsons are famed for their tartan weaving - and the original colors for the Wilson Clan were picked by William Wilson for his wife, Janet. Creepy considering my middle name is Janet! I also found out they fought at the battle of Bannockburn, and also there were likely a few Wilsons at Culloden. Since the field of Bannockburn is so close to Stirling, I will have to make another journey there, this time more of a pilgramage, wearing my scarf, to honor my family. I had never thought my past was connected to such famous historical moments, but, I guess your past can always surprise you when you least expect it!
I look forward to returning to some of these places when my parents arrive in May. I only hope they'll be as awestruck and blown away as I was. My mum will die to see the moors, and my father will probably enjoy seeing the family history as well as hiking a bit. I CANNOT wait to show them. In the meantime, I'll be planning more trips to places around the UK, and perhaps even to Prague.
This is going to be an amazing semester!
We visited Dunkeld (City of the Celts in Gaelic), Ruthven Fort, Inverness, Loch Ness, Eilean Donnan Castle, Kyleachen, Portree, MacDonald Castle, Faerie Glen, Ben Nevis, Glen Coe, Fort William, and others...what a trip! I don't think I've ever been as blown away by scenery as I was on that three day weekend. It was like opening a fantasy novel like Lord of the Rings and strolling into it. Sorry New Zealand, but that could've been filmed in the Highlands of Scotland and it would've been more magnificent. Trust me. And hiking the moors of Scotland? One of the most moving experiences of my life.
On a sadder note, I managed to get food poisoning whilst on Isle of Skye. From Haggis. Go figure. It was uber tasty, but my digestive system decided otherwise. A lovely night spent in the bathroom. But from that, I found out one thing about myself, I'm a pretty tough cookie. The next morning, the morning I was to hike through some wilderness on Isle of Skye, I was almost unable to get out of bed the pain was so bad. But I looked at myself in the mirror and told myself to take some pain meds, suck it up and get my ass on the bus. Our first stop on the Isle was a river said to be the tears of the giantess female warrior Skea (not sure how to spell it...Gaelic after all...) who's crying for her lost lover Culachen. (A giant from Ireland - our driver told us the tale and its morale was never to trust an Irishman haha). It is said that should one put their faces into the water, they gain eternal youth and beauty. By this point, I was cold, in pain, hadn't eaten and tired as all hell, but I dragged my sorry arse down to the river and stuck my sodding face in. Like magic, my energy was restored by the cold, fresh waters. Was there magic in that land of Skye? I can't say for sure, but I'm thinking there was something to it other than myth.
By the time we hit the capital of Skye, Portree, I was sick as a dog again, but my lovely flatmate Cara managed to get me some meds at the Chemist in town. The meds knocked me out for twenty or so minutes, and when I awoke we were just about at the next stop, a brisk three mile hike into the wilderness made of breathtaking views and a gorgeous moor. By then my screaming stomach had stopped hurting, and despite having eaten nothing all day for fear of another anarchy spell by my guts, I hopped off the bus, and off I went. The rest of the day was much better, I think the hike and movement coupled with the drugs did wonders. No more illness after that.
Thank god I hadn't stayed in bed that day - I would've missed out on a gorgeous day and probably would've kicked myself after seeing photos of it. Faerie Glen, for example, was the weirdest but prettiest landscape I'd ever seen. It was as if someone had shrunken Scotland and ploped it in the middle of nowhere. I walked the Negativity Circle, giving the rest of my food poisoning and my troubles over to the faeries, and then left them an offering to ensure good luck. That night I lost my room key, and it mysteriously appeared in my handbag the next morning. Magic, again? Perhpas. ;-)
I also fed a Hairy Coo (Hairy Cow). So cute. They're the big, orange, hairy, stoner looking cows that are native to Scotland. His name was Hamish, and his girlfriend was Heather. So cute. Hence the Hairy Coos in this blog post title.
The last amazing day was topped by the magnificent Glen Coe. The sight of a terrible massacre of the MacDonald clan by the Campbell Clan of England. They were sent to make an example of the clan under orders of the leaders of England who had set a charter that stated all clans had to swear fealty to the King of England in the space of a year or be put to sword and flame. All the clans of Scotland signed said charter, save for one. The MacDonald clan of Glen Coe refused until the last minute when the chief was swayed by his people. Angry that they weren't being taken seriously by the Scottish, England ordered the Campbells to march North and make an example of the MacDonalds. Once the Campbells reached Glen Coe, the MacDonalds, seeing the tired clansmen, offered them hospitality, which, under tradition, included two weeks of water, food and shelter as well as friendship for free. The Campbells accepted, and for two weeks mingled with their victims. On the dawn of the fourteenth day, the Campbells turned on their hosts and slaughtered them in their beds. Some escaped into the mountains only to perish there in the cold. Few survived. Henceforth the name Campbell is equal to the word TRAITOR.
I had found in a little village, right before Glen Coe, I had walked into a little wool mill and tourist shop, only to find they had Clan Tartan scarves. I searched once in vain for the Wilson's tartan (my family) until by chance I came upon it hanging in the bottom row, without a tag on it. The one behind it had a tag with the family history, so I bought it, along with a silver claymore and scottish shield pin to go with. I donned them both proudly in Glen Coe to honor those who died.
I discovered the Wilsons are famed for their tartan weaving - and the original colors for the Wilson Clan were picked by William Wilson for his wife, Janet. Creepy considering my middle name is Janet! I also found out they fought at the battle of Bannockburn, and also there were likely a few Wilsons at Culloden. Since the field of Bannockburn is so close to Stirling, I will have to make another journey there, this time more of a pilgramage, wearing my scarf, to honor my family. I had never thought my past was connected to such famous historical moments, but, I guess your past can always surprise you when you least expect it!
I look forward to returning to some of these places when my parents arrive in May. I only hope they'll be as awestruck and blown away as I was. My mum will die to see the moors, and my father will probably enjoy seeing the family history as well as hiking a bit. I CANNOT wait to show them. In the meantime, I'll be planning more trips to places around the UK, and perhaps even to Prague.
This is going to be an amazing semester!
Wednesday 16 February 2011
Religious Experience With the Wind
I never really understood how Kathy in Wuthering Heights could be so in love with the smell and sound of the wind off the moors, but after a change in weather whilst on a walk, I can truly know how she felt.
After parting company with m flatmate after a brief wander through Stirling, the weather turned and became rainy. The wind, of course, came with it. And while walking down through the old, grey, winding streets of cobbled stone that is m home for the next few months, I realized one thing by watching the locals. Umbrellas are totall useless here. As soon as you open one here the wind turns it inside out in a heartbeat. Hence why no one really uses one lest they be a tourist.
I soon tucked the damned brelli away in a frustrated mood as I was now going to get soaked and cold. However, after hopping on the bus and getting off on campus, the walk back to my flat caught me off guard. The wet wind came sweeping down off the highlands behind my flat and hit me like nothing else. It was like having a religious revelation, like walking into a breathtaking cathedral for the first time. I couldn't believe it. It was incredible. Truly, something divine must have fashioned and gave shape to this land, a land which inspires moments of the purest awe in just a gust of wind. Kathy - I now know what I once did not. A taste of the wind off the moors is all it takes. I'm hooked.
The weekend is all lined up for a three day trip that includes Inverness, Loch Ness, Isle of Skye, Glen Coe (and another I cannot remember), Fort William, Eliean Donnan Castle, Macdonald Fort, and Edinburgh. I'm looking forward to having some soul stirring moments at all of these places. I just can't believe how few days I've been here and all the things I've already seen...
Stirling, Bridge of Allan, Stirling Bridge, Bannockburn, Stirling Castle, Dunblane/Dunblane Cathedral, Glasgow. I only hope this furious pace of seeing historical places and beautiful lands continous into my semester all the way until I jet out on June 4th.
After parting company with m flatmate after a brief wander through Stirling, the weather turned and became rainy. The wind, of course, came with it. And while walking down through the old, grey, winding streets of cobbled stone that is m home for the next few months, I realized one thing by watching the locals. Umbrellas are totall useless here. As soon as you open one here the wind turns it inside out in a heartbeat. Hence why no one really uses one lest they be a tourist.
I soon tucked the damned brelli away in a frustrated mood as I was now going to get soaked and cold. However, after hopping on the bus and getting off on campus, the walk back to my flat caught me off guard. The wet wind came sweeping down off the highlands behind my flat and hit me like nothing else. It was like having a religious revelation, like walking into a breathtaking cathedral for the first time. I couldn't believe it. It was incredible. Truly, something divine must have fashioned and gave shape to this land, a land which inspires moments of the purest awe in just a gust of wind. Kathy - I now know what I once did not. A taste of the wind off the moors is all it takes. I'm hooked.
The weekend is all lined up for a three day trip that includes Inverness, Loch Ness, Isle of Skye, Glen Coe (and another I cannot remember), Fort William, Eliean Donnan Castle, Macdonald Fort, and Edinburgh. I'm looking forward to having some soul stirring moments at all of these places. I just can't believe how few days I've been here and all the things I've already seen...
Stirling, Bridge of Allan, Stirling Bridge, Bannockburn, Stirling Castle, Dunblane/Dunblane Cathedral, Glasgow. I only hope this furious pace of seeing historical places and beautiful lands continous into my semester all the way until I jet out on June 4th.
Sunday 13 February 2011
First Impressions
Day One and Two...
Arriving here in Scotland was one of the single most exciting times in my life. I mean, way up there in terms of incredible happenings. It was that feeling of relief - "I'm finally here" hardly describes it. It's like achieving something I once thought may have been impossible. But here I am, bloggin away in my flat after a lovely night cooking, hiking and talking with my flatmates.
I had a moment waking up this morning where I thought: "My God, what the hell am I doing here?!" and a brief moment of saddened panic. But then I got down to my routine - showered, did make up while watching a film on my laptop, getting dressed, and decided to head out to the Uni's shop to get some groceries. Don't get me wrong, the night I arrived (last night) my flatmates were fantastic - we went to a pub and watched a Rugby match, Aton cooked a lamb leg for dinner from his uncle's farm (where else would that happen?!) and they showed me around a bit to get my bearings. This moment of utter saddness hit me out of nowhere - I couldn't put my finger on it.
But, have no fear readers, this blogger found everything could be solved by simply stepping out the door. Today I went alone to the campus shop, and as soon as I saw the highland landscape, the Wallace Monument framed in a halo of sun against grey sky, the castle brilliantly lit with golden light, swans walking along the path and the fresh, damp air...I told that feeling to "piss off". The walk did wonders. And my flatmates did even more. Halfway to the store, they called me and asked if I'd like to go on a hike in the ridges behind the flat. How could I resist?
The way was steep - but everyone was helping one another, guys watching out for the girls, girls helping each other and so on. The little saddness left from the morning completely disappeared as a mossy stone wall, crumbling with wooden fence in the gaps, appeared ahead and beyond was a craggy clearing of a golden hue filled with highland sheep. It was so pretty I can't even give it justice. We hiked out onto a one lane road, and from there the wilderness opened up before us, all rust colored and twisted trees on ridges and sweeping valleys. A gurgling stream ran beside the road, which just set the scene as we hiked on pact sundown. I couldn't stop oozing over the beautiful country that is Scotland - hope the flatmates get used to that, because I don't think I'll ever get over it.
I can't think of a better place to be, or a place that's made me fall this far in love already. The people are wonderful - and yes, all Scottish men sing and play guitar, this is not just a stereotype. They may not sing well, or play the guitar well, but they do both in varying degrees of proficeincy. :-P My flatmates are lovely, the guys are kind as can be, and a bit sassy too, which is appreciated by me. (Wonder where that comes from? ;-D )
I look at it this way - I'm in Uni at La Crosse for four months out of the year, and the last two semesters I really didn't go home much. So how different is going to Uni here for a bit over three and not going home, but having my parents come here at the end of term? Sure, its a couple thousand miles away, but there's ways of getting in touch. I have a feeling I'm going to be just fine come tomorrow morning. The prospect of a possible trip to the Isle of Skye or the Highlands this weekend is definately going to keep my spirits high. As are the other trips with my flatmates in the works - a Rugby match in Edinburgh, a weekend in York, Lincoln and Nottingham, a day in Bath and Cardiff, a trip to Loch Ness and Inverness, trips to Edinburgh and Glasgow, a weekend in London, hikes in the Highlands and Trossachs.
I have a feeling this is going to be a good semester...
Cheers!
Arriving here in Scotland was one of the single most exciting times in my life. I mean, way up there in terms of incredible happenings. It was that feeling of relief - "I'm finally here" hardly describes it. It's like achieving something I once thought may have been impossible. But here I am, bloggin away in my flat after a lovely night cooking, hiking and talking with my flatmates.
I had a moment waking up this morning where I thought: "My God, what the hell am I doing here?!" and a brief moment of saddened panic. But then I got down to my routine - showered, did make up while watching a film on my laptop, getting dressed, and decided to head out to the Uni's shop to get some groceries. Don't get me wrong, the night I arrived (last night) my flatmates were fantastic - we went to a pub and watched a Rugby match, Aton cooked a lamb leg for dinner from his uncle's farm (where else would that happen?!) and they showed me around a bit to get my bearings. This moment of utter saddness hit me out of nowhere - I couldn't put my finger on it.
But, have no fear readers, this blogger found everything could be solved by simply stepping out the door. Today I went alone to the campus shop, and as soon as I saw the highland landscape, the Wallace Monument framed in a halo of sun against grey sky, the castle brilliantly lit with golden light, swans walking along the path and the fresh, damp air...I told that feeling to "piss off". The walk did wonders. And my flatmates did even more. Halfway to the store, they called me and asked if I'd like to go on a hike in the ridges behind the flat. How could I resist?
The way was steep - but everyone was helping one another, guys watching out for the girls, girls helping each other and so on. The little saddness left from the morning completely disappeared as a mossy stone wall, crumbling with wooden fence in the gaps, appeared ahead and beyond was a craggy clearing of a golden hue filled with highland sheep. It was so pretty I can't even give it justice. We hiked out onto a one lane road, and from there the wilderness opened up before us, all rust colored and twisted trees on ridges and sweeping valleys. A gurgling stream ran beside the road, which just set the scene as we hiked on pact sundown. I couldn't stop oozing over the beautiful country that is Scotland - hope the flatmates get used to that, because I don't think I'll ever get over it.
I can't think of a better place to be, or a place that's made me fall this far in love already. The people are wonderful - and yes, all Scottish men sing and play guitar, this is not just a stereotype. They may not sing well, or play the guitar well, but they do both in varying degrees of proficeincy. :-P My flatmates are lovely, the guys are kind as can be, and a bit sassy too, which is appreciated by me. (Wonder where that comes from? ;-D )
I look at it this way - I'm in Uni at La Crosse for four months out of the year, and the last two semesters I really didn't go home much. So how different is going to Uni here for a bit over three and not going home, but having my parents come here at the end of term? Sure, its a couple thousand miles away, but there's ways of getting in touch. I have a feeling I'm going to be just fine come tomorrow morning. The prospect of a possible trip to the Isle of Skye or the Highlands this weekend is definately going to keep my spirits high. As are the other trips with my flatmates in the works - a Rugby match in Edinburgh, a weekend in York, Lincoln and Nottingham, a day in Bath and Cardiff, a trip to Loch Ness and Inverness, trips to Edinburgh and Glasgow, a weekend in London, hikes in the Highlands and Trossachs.
I have a feeling this is going to be a good semester...
Cheers!
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