Last Days in Scotland

Hogmanay

Mom asked what I would have done if she hadn't come to Scotland to spend the holidays with me. I answered her honestly and said, "Probably write and catch up on the movies I missed. But mainly write." She nodded her head even though we both knew I probably wouldn't have had nearly as much fun without her there.

My original plans were that I would spend the few days before departing Scotland in Edinburgh. "Why Edinburgh?" you ask.

Simple.

Hogmanay.

Hogmanay is the Scottish New Year. We're talking huge street parties and massive amounts of fireworks. You think those little Roman candles you and your family shoot off are something? Nope. The Scots know how to light up the night sky.

Because Mom had joined me, those original plans were discarded and it was a very good thing, too. I might not have made it to Edinburgh for Hogmanay, but I was in Stirling. I was searching online for where all the Stirling Hogmanay festivities would take place and discovered that The Proclaimers would be performing at Stirling Homanay which would be taking place at Stirling Castle. That was a ten minute walk away from my flat, folks!

Being American I foolishly thought that The Proclaimers were a one-hit wonder, and for some strange reason it's true in America. We listened to song after song, and I loved nearly every one of them. There were people there from every age group, all singing along and having fun. That night it decided to rain, but it was so cold that the water was partially frozen. Big clumps of wet slush fell on us, but it was okay because we were "mad for it." It, being the music.

And the night only got better when the clock struck midnight and the pyrotechnics lit up the sky while the crowd sang "Loch Lomond." It's truly an experience I will never forget.

There was a strange competitive vibe going because the concert was being filmed and the host/announcer was trying to amp up the crowd. If we were the livelier crowd then the television segment would be on Stirling and not so much Edinburgh. (Honestly, I don't think that happened 'cause it's Edinburgh, man.)

Funny side note: whenever the host kept mentioning Edinburgh, a guy in the crowd would yell, "Fuck Edinburgh!" 

Back in the States

It's been two weeks since I left Scotland. I've moved into the dorms at St. Ed's and oddly enough the weather has been very similar to what I left behind in Scotland. Those first few days were cold and wet.

The view outside my dorm room.

I've spent the past couple of weeks meeting up with friends and spending time with my family. Oh, and getting ready for my classes. Is it sad that school is a bit of an afterthought? I hope that's normal.

One thing that kind of bugs me is whenever one of my friends asks how Scotland was. This was one of the main reasons why I started this whole blog. Maybe they want to hear it from the horse's mouth. Maybe it's just customary to say something along those lines when someone's been gone. How could I briefly describe an experience that I dedicated an entire blog to? Anything I would say would sound trivial or like I was indifferent toward the whole semester, which couldn't be further than the truth.

"How was Scotland?"

Green. Beautiful. Wet. Fun. Amazing. Frustrating. Living in Scotland was everything I expected and nothing I was prepared for. It was challenging and exciting, scary and enriching.

It made a liar out of me, which I both love and hate. Meeting the Spaniards and having them laugh at my Spanish only validated the point my mother made with some of her co-workers: "Mexican Highlander? What kind of Mexican can't speak Spanish?" Plus, I never actually made it to the Highlands. It is something I deeply regret and the only way past that is, of course, to go back. In the meantime, I am a fraud. A fake. A phony... maybe that's a bit over-dramatic. 

One thing that is definite is that not everybody read this blog. When I asked why they didn't read it, some very valid reasons popped up, the common one being that things simply got too busy in their own lives to check-in to see what I was up to. I understand that, trust me, I do. Then I got one of the funniest, albeit frustrating, reasons: "I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

To that I say...

This is the last time I'll post on this blog. This experience has been wonderful and I've made a lot of friends along the way. But sadly, this chapter of my life is over and new adventures await.

Bye, guys.

Bertie Hits the U.K.

It's funny. When I first found out that my mom, Bertie, was coming to Scotland, I was very happy. Excited and nervous, but happy.

I went to Edinburgh and planned on spending the day in the city before picking her up at the airport. However, walking up the ramp out of Waverley Station, a cold gust of wind and rain quickly ushered me to the Airlink stop across the street. Never fear though! Yes, I was in the airport all day, but it gave me time to write and I can't complain about that.

I had all day to prepare for Mom's arrival. Heck, I've had months to prepare. But all the emotions hit me when I was standing at the gate, waiting for her to walk through those glass doors. My eyes stung and I felt a bit silly getting so emotional.

But she is one of my best friends, I hadn't seen her in months, and I just missed her.

When she came through the gates I made sure to be one of the first faces she saw. We hugged, and cried, and other people noticed and said "awe." Yes, I'm very happy that my mom came to Scotland to spend the holidays with me.

Our initial plans were to travel around and sight-see. One thing we were not anticipating was Boxing Day. What is Boxing Day? I'm still not sure. What I do know is that the blasted rail station was closed on that day—the day following Christmas. No, I'm just kidding, not about the train station but about not knowing the significance of Boxing Day.

Oddly enough, the mall and movie theater were closed on Christmas but not on Boxing Day. Theaters in the States wouldn't dream of closing their doors on Christmas. So instead, I took Mom on a little tour of Stirling. We walked up to the castle and discovered that it too was closed, but the view was amazing.

View of Wallace Monument

Mar's Wark 

We've also been to a couple of restaurants in Stirling. Typically, I don't eat out because I prefer my cooking, but Mom and I decided that we didn't want to cook. We went to a "New York Italian" place called Frankie and Benny's. Sorry, I've eaten in Italian restaurants in both in New York and Italy, but not once have I ever been given naan when I ordered garlic bread. Ugh.


We also went to a nearby pub that I've talked about in a past post, Morrison's Cold Beer Co. I stuck with a dish that I knew I would like, but I have tried their fried haggis in the past. I'm proud to report that Mom ate some fish and chips with her bourbon and Coke.

But on Christmas, we needed to have a good meal. So, we roasted a chicken, mashed some potatoes, and served it with some buttered corn. Very yummy and satisfying.

Boxing Day was the day we had tried that "Italian" restaurant, but afterward we went to Thistles and had bought some things for our trip to London. I finally got some wellies! Wellies, rain boots, galoshes, whatever you want to call them. (What do you call them?) A lot of sales happening on Boxing Day. I had bought some jeans, but because of the massive amount of shoppers, the dressing rooms were closed.

(I don't think I like them, not because they don't fit right, but because the button is on the other side. You may think it's not a big deal, but it is, folks, when you really have to go and every nanosecond is crucial.)

After shopping, we checked out The Hobbit. Good stuff! I've seen it before, and as I was seeing it the second time, I thought about how I needed to see the LOTR trilogy again and also re-read The Hobbit. I was also cursing Peter Jackson because I know that bastard is going to make more money off of me, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. 

London

When I had first asked my mom what she wanted to do while she was here, she said we could "take a day trip to London." This is just not possible. It's six hours by train and nine by bus. Because I'm too tired to discuss every second of London, here are the main points and a video:

—Westminster, Big Ben and Parliament

We got there right on time to hear it chime.

Outside Parliament in Westminster...

...and the Supreme Court.

—Double-decker vs. Underground

She wanted so badly to ride a double-decker, so that's
what we did. See, I get my awesome dweebiness from her.

—Buckingham and the Horse Guards

So amazing that we got to witness this.
The guards change post at eleven in the morning.

Yeah, she did that, and I love her for it.

Hey, Alicia, "It looks like he's... leaning."

—Tower of London and the Crown Jewels.

They wouldn't allow us to take pictures, so Mom and I rode the little conveyor belt twice to see them again. 

Charles Dickens giving a reading of A Christmas Carol.

Below is a dramatic reading of Oliver Twist.

I got so used to seeing red telephone boxes that
when I saw a black one, I needed a picture with it.

Hook 'em!

— Miscellaneous fun

On the way to Hyde Park, we walked under the Wellington Arch.
The picture does not do it justice.

Shopping center in Bloomsbury.

Mom fully embracing the U.K. "cheers!"
I tried telling her our cheers and theirs means different things.

Had a delicious meal with Mom in an Italian restaurant called Strada.
The treatment we got from the Italian staff reminded me of Italy.
If they were going for authentic, well done.  

Tried black pudding despite knowing what it's made of.
Never again.

We did all of these things in two days, people. Two days! I'm currently sitting on a train, trying to block out the rowdy rugby group behind me. Mom? She's sitting at the table a row ahead of me, playing a dice game with the people she just met. But she's like that—she can make friends anywhere.

   

Added bonus:

Today in St. James's Park there was some major drama in the pond. Two geese totally threw down, and one of them got owned.

These Greylag geese doing their version of the "fight, fight, fight" chant.

And of course the swans could care less.

Once More with Feeling

If there's one thing that I've learned in my travels it is that I'll never see everything I want to see. The truth is, there is just too much to see and do and not enough time. Perhaps that's not entirely true. Perhaps it's just the universe that conspires against me. Whether it's bad weather on my day off or missing my alarm when I had wanted to wake-up early enough to take a day trip. Either way, I never made it back to Glasgow to see the Mitchell Library. I don't like having regrets.

There's not much I can do about it now. On the bright side, one of the reasons I won't have time to go to the library is because in two days my mother will be here! Yes, I'm very excited.

While Lorena and I were in London, she had confessed that she was nervous about getting to the airport. Catching a train and then the shuttle service to the airport while dragging two suitcases seemed a bit daunting to her, so I told her I would go with her. It's not like it was terribly inconvenient, and since I plan on picking my mother up, it would be good for me to learn the best way to get there and back. Plus, I could spend the day in Edinburgh.

Hold on tight, kiddos, 'cause here it is.

After dropping Lorena off, I caught the shuttle back to Waverley. From there I decided to go to the castle since I hadn't gone when I was in Edinburgh with Sami. Now, when I was on the shuttle with Lorena we passed signs on Prince's St. which led to the castle, so, like an idiot, I was walking around looking for those signs. I couldn't find them, and after ten minutes of walking up and down the street, I decided to just head to the place itself. Kinda hard to miss a castle.

I took a road that was very windy and wondered briefly if I was headed in the right direction. Then I remembered first coming to Scotland and the woman who had told me that if I was in Scotland and walking uphill, I'd more than likely run into a castle. And, I was definitely walking uphill. Turns out she was right, and I found myself at Edinburgh Castle.

The view from the top of the hill was amazing!

Two more to add to the collection!

The thing about Edinburgh Castle is that it's more known for being used as a military base and fortress than it was for any royalty that held residence there prior to the seventeenth century. Where Stirling Castle is all about the royals that lived there, Edinburgh Castle is about the role it played in history. History not being my best subject, I had no idea that prisoners of war from the War of Independence were held in Edinburgh. One of the exhibits in the castle is the Prison of War where they have replicated what the prison cells would have looked like in those times.

One of the POWs carved the American flag into one of the doors.

Now, most castles have cannons and Edinburgh Castle was no different. However, I found it very amusing when I noticed the position of one of them. It was pointed directly at the Edinburgh Winter.

"Here at Edinburgh Castle we don't believe in fun."

I wish I could have explored the castle a little more. I don't know if it's because I'm getting older or if it's the weather, but my knee was killing me. I had had a bad twist when I was a teenager but over the last few days, it hurts when I walk down flights of stairs. So, when I saw some of the exhibits that were spread out over several flights, I could only sigh with longing.





So my adventure in the castle was a little cut short. That was okay because I wanted to check out the Winter Wonderland. I was determined to ride some of the rides that I missed out on in Hyde Park. Fortunately the cost of the rides was cheaper so I indulged. By indulged I mean I paid money to scream so loud that the sound cut off completely. It was wonderful and rejuvenating and it made me feel like a kid again. Of course I took pictures like a tourist.

This is my favorite kind of ride. It's like the ultimate swing.

I didn't ride the Ferris wheel because there were too many couples in line. And we all know what couples do on Ferris wheels.

This is a seven foot penguin. Like I wasn't going to get a picture of it?

 Right, so I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand it's more honest of carnies if they sell the stuffed animals at a high price. Of course they're ripping you off; that's the point of carnival games. But if you're going to blow that much money, wouldn't you rather have fun doing it and earning the £50 stuffed animal?

I was looking at all the pretty lights, eating a warm, tasty pretzel when I felt a shooting pain in my right foot. Sadly I've been feeling these pains ever since I returned from London. It's enough to make me stop walking and want to cry. I think it's because I walked all over that wonderful city in a pair of Converse. Love the shoe, but my feet don't. I can honestly say that I would have spent another hour there had it not been for the pain.

But that's the end of this adventure, and what a sad ending indeed. But, my mom's coming into town, and she's told me that she really wants to go to London. This time, I will pack better shoes.

London Part II

Day of Museums

I had told Lorena that on our third day in London, we needed to wake-up early so we could do all of the things that were on our list. "Surely, you're exaggerating." No, no I'm not... and don't call me Shirley. (Sorry, I couldn't resist.) The thing is, typically Lorena wakes-up after noon. That just wasn't possible. The plan was that I would get up about eight-ish and then wake her up at nine.

At this particular hostel (YHA near Oxford St--stay there if you're in London!) they have a "beauty room" where a person can use their hair-dryer without waking others. After showering, I went downstairs only to realize that my card key wouldn't unlock the beauty room door. So I went back to the elevator, hair-dryer and diffuser in hand.

If you know me, you know that I'm not always a morning person. I'll sleep walk and grunt a good morning, but there typically has to be a reason for me to be cheerful after crawling out of bed. A very nice English man happened to discover this on that very elevator.

He saw what I had in my hands and said, "That looks painful."

And what did I say? Well, after a beat of silence, my brilliant response was, "Yeah, it's big."

Face palm.

Because God wasn't done laughing at me, the guy insisted on more conversation. "Well, Americans do do things bigger. Or are you Canadian?"

So many things I could comment on what he had said, but instead I grabbed the plug and said excitedly, "I actually got this here!"

Well that shut him up. 'Cause really, what do you say to the crazy woman you're trapped in an elevator with while she waves a U.K. plug in your face?

Apparently my people skills need improving.

Cat mummies... creepy.

Lorena and I did manage to leave at a reasonable hour and our first stop was the British Museum. Lorena wanted to see the Ancient Egypt exhibit. I've seen exhibits like it before, and personally it's not something I agree with. Only because it would piss me off if someone dug up my remains and put them on display, especially if I had special amulets to see me to the underworld, but that's just my personal stand on the issue.

One thing that made this particular visit to a museum stand out was that it must have been field-trip day and nobody warned us. I got bumped and jostled and was forced to calm a very annoyed Spaniard before she got us deported for battery of a child (or in this case several children).

One of the major things that I wanted to do was go to Buckingham Palace. I know I kept annoying Lorena with my questions on why we couldn't go into the palace. She kept telling me that it was their home and that people couldn't just come and go. I asked her why not. There are White House tours; I know, I've been on one. Alas, I received no satisfying answer.

Taking the Underground, we were walking through a park next to the palace when we heard a procession leaving the palace gates, bagpipes and drums. Guards and horses and I wished we had gotten there a little sooner to know what the heck was going on.

Not going to lie—little disappointed when I didn't see them in red coats.

Victoria Memorial

It was cold that day, folks. Very cold. So when we discovered that we were close to the Hard Rock Cafe (both the Spaniards had been oddly insistent on going there), I told Lorena to take her time picking out her shirt. The shop was nice and warm and I wasn't in a rush to go back outside. I don't know why the Hard Rock Cafe was such a big deal, but apparently it's big in Spain because there were quite a few Spaniards in that store.

It was something that had been bugging Lorena. There were too many Spanish people in London for her liking. She left Spain to hear British accents but I guess she wasn't the only Spaniard with that plan. Even most of the staff was Spanish-speaking. Everywhere we went Lorena wanted me to speak for her since I was "a native speaker." Ha! She couldn't use that excuse in the Hard Rock Cafe. It's funny, I should have told her she paid too much for her shirt like she did for my Banksy jumper.

Pretty, pretty diamonds.

The largest collection of colored diamonds.
One more thing—some of them
glow in the dark.

Our next stop was the Natural History Museum. I enjoyed this museum immensely. (Not that I had favorites, but between the two we saw that day—this one I liked more.) My favorite section was the ginormous rock and mineral display they had. It was an entire hall filled with shiny.

Another exhibit I really enjoyed was the dinosaur one. Overall, they had an amazing layout. 

Does this make me a pearl?

Go Hilltoppers!!!!

Great, great day at the museum. Fortunately we managed to do everything we set out to do. Unfortunately, it plum tuckered us out. We decided to head back to the hostel to recoup that way we would be wide awake for midnight.

Our plan was simple. Be under Big Ben when it struck midnight on December 12th. This was Lorena's birthday wish. It was how she wanted to ring in the Big-21.

We did stick around for 12:12, but after standing out there for forty-five minutes, we were very cold and the moment was anticlimactic.

So far we'd taken the Underground, and I'd become proficient in finding my way around and "minding the gap." However, the tube stops running after midnight, so we had to get a bus back to the hostel. That's right, folks. Vicky rode a red double-decker bus in London. And because I'm a dweeb, I took a picture from the top deck.

Day of Rest

Since we had seen everything that was on our list, we were going to take the fourth day easy. Personally, my dogs were killing me. So, we decide to just wander the city, check out SoHo and Chinatown.

Ducks in Chinatown

I saw this, took the picture, and then busted out laughing. Lorena called me crazy, but I won't hold it against her. One, on most days I'd agree with her. Two, she's never seen A Christmas Story. I tried explaining the scene where the dogs ruin Christmas dinner and Ralphie's family has to have dinner at the Chinese food restaurant. She still didn't see why I was laughing hysterically in Chinatown that day.

Somehow we stumbled into M&M World on our day out. It's a super store and factory. It was a good thing I was low on cash because there was several things I wanted to buy.

The picture to the left is my favorite!

The guy at the door took one look at us and said, "The candy's downstairs." Bwahahaha... we must not be the only girls who go in with that hungry look in their eyes.

But, yeah, I'm not spending that much on M&Ms. It's crazy.


After we left the store, we were making our way to SoHo and passed a very... I don't want to call it seedy, but if you're frisky in London, this was the place to go. Straight sex, gay sex, sex with yourself—this part of town had it all. And for some reason, Lorena got a kick out of it. I didn't realize she had taken so many pictures until she gave me the flash drive. And I'm the crazy one.

So what better way to end an unusual day than by going to St. Paul's Cathedral with an atheist? It was on the list that Anabel had drawn up and we had run out of things to do, so we caught the tube to church.

I've been to my fair share of churches and cathedrals both in the States and abroad, but I've never been charged an admission fee. It turned me off completely to be charged to enter the house of God. Lorena says that they do it in Spain. If you don't live in that city, you have to pay a fee. It actually made me miss Italy.