Week ???: Scotland is WILD

Hello Internet!
As you can probably tell, my posting schedule has been absolutely torn to shreds. That being said, now that I've recovered from the craziness of my midsemester break, I'm going to try and put it back together. In other words, in this post I'm going to recap my classes with a sentence each and then delve into the adventures I had over break. After that, I'll get back to business as usual. So, here goes nothing:

Gender Identities in Medieval Literature: The topics discussed in this class grow more bizarre and disturbing every week.

Fantasies of Youth: The Chronicles of Narnia get better every time I read them.

Writing for Children: Issue fiction is depressing and trying to write it is going to break me.

Advanced Creative Writing Tutorial: It's fascinating how tiny aspects of a story can end up being a huge deal.

Now for what (I'm assuming) you really want to hear about: my midsemester adventures. My midsemester break lasted a week and a half, and I spent most of it traveling solo through Scotland. It was the single craziest thing I've ever done, and I absolutely loved it.

On the first Friday of my break, I woke up bright and early and went to the Bristol airport, where I boarded my flight to Glasgow with nothing but a backpack and a purse. After the plane touched down in Glasgow an hour later, I promptly caught a bus to the city center, then was struck by a moment of sheer terror. Glasgow was huge and bustling, bigger than any UK city I'd been in before, and the city center was full of grim, intimidating-looking buildings. As a girl who's lived most of her life in the country, it was overwhelming.

Still, through Google Maps and a stroke of luck or two, I made it safely to my hostel. After taking an hour or two to orient myself, I decided to brave the world outside my hostel room and hopped on the subway to Kelvingrove Park. The park was much more my speed than the city center. It was huge and gorgeous, with statues, fountains, and little patches of wilderness around every corner. I spent about an hour wandering through the autumn foliage, then went to meet my friend Grace, who's spending the semester at the University of Glasgow. She gave me a quick tour around her stunning campus, then we grabbed burrito bowls at a nearby restaurant and swapped stories about studying abroad.

Kelvingrove Park

University of Glasgow

The next morning, I checked out of the hostel early so I could explore as much of Glasgow as possible. I took a meandering path through the city center that led me through George Square and eventually brought me to the Glasgow Cathedral. The cathedral was pretty and packed full of history, but the real sight to see was the Necropolis, which was behind the church. For those who haven't heard of it, the Necropolis is a massive graveyard that overlooks Glasgow. It was simultaneously eerie and fascinating, and the view from the top was incredible.

Glasgow from the Top of the Necropolis (Cathedral on the Right)

The Necropolis Itself

I got a little lost in the winding paths of the Necropolis, but I eventually made my way out and over to Provand's Lordship, Glasgow's oldest house. I spent some time exploring the historical exhibits and the small herb garden there, then headed back to the city center for lunch. After grabbing a quick bite to eat (and spotting a man wearing a kilt and playing the bagpipes!), I wandered down to Glasgow Green, Glasgow's biggest park. I spent some time lounging there and regaining my energy, then visited the People's Palace, where I learned about Glasgow's industrial history. Finally, exhausted but stuffed to the brim with new knowledge, I headed to the train station and caught a train to an Edinburgh.

Provand's Lordship: The Oldest House in Glasgow

Glasgow Green

Now, as you've probably gathered if you've read my older posts, I love England, and I have since the day I arrived. That being said, I fell deeply in love with Edinburgh within my first ten minutes there. As I made my way from the Edinburgh train station to my hostel, I saw no fewer than three bagpipe players. Furthermore, my hostel was right under the shadow of the Edinburgh Castle and was probably the quirkiest, coolest place I've ever stayed during a trip. I mean, there were two fully-armored mannequins in the lobby. What more can you ask for?

Guards of the Castle Rock Hostel

I turned in early my first night in Edinburgh, but I woke up before most businesses were open the next day and decided to go for a walk. I made my way down the Royal Mile and ended up at Holyrood Park, where I spotted this beautiful Scottish hill:

Now, I thought that this was Arthur's Seat, the highest point in Edinburgh. I'd been meaning to climb Arthur's Seat later in the week, when I was less worn-out. But I decided that since it was right in front of me and didn't seem so bad, I might as well climb it and check it off my bucket list. So I set off cheerfully along the trail. However, I very quickly realized that that little hill was not Arthur's Seat. That was Salisbury Craigs. This is Arthur's Seat:

After that horrifying realization, I concluded that I had two options: admit defeat and come back later, or grit my teeth and climb that confounded mountain. I've never been a quitter, so after much sweating and swearing under my breath, I made it to the top of Arthur's Seat. Fortunately, the view was worth it.

Looking Out Onto Edinburgh

I spent the rest of my Sunday recuperating in the hostel, triumphant but utterly exhausted. On Monday, though, I had a fantastic adventure. A few weeks before coming to Edinburgh, I'd determined that I wanted to see a real loch while in Scotland, and had booked a tour in advance. So, at 9am on Monday morning, I boarded a minibus and headed out into the Scottish countryside.

Our first stop was the Kelpies, aka the biggest horse statues in the world. Standing underneath the muzzles of those gorgeous behemoths made me feel like an ant or a beetle. After that slightly unnerving experience, we headed out to Scotland's biggest loch, Loch Lomond (pronounced, interestingly enough, as low-mund). This loch rests right over the geographic fault that divides the Scottish lowlands from the Scottish highlands, so I got to experience some truly beautiful views. I also got a taste of the Scottish highland weather, as the area around the loch was extremely cold!

The Kelpies

Loch Lomond

When we'd had our fill of the loch, my tour group and I went to the nearby village of Aberfoyle for lunch. Me being me, I devoured my lunch as quickly as possible and set off for a solitary wander through the village. I soon found myself in woods on the outskirts of the village--which, according to legend, is infested with fairies. I didn't see any fairies on my brief walk, but there was a hint of magic in the air, and I held my breath the entire time.

Into the Woods of Aberfoyle

All too soon, I had to leave the solemn quiet of the Scottish woods and return to my tour group. That being said, I couldn't complain, because our next stop was Doune Castle, where Monty Python and the Holy Grail was filmed. We couldn't go inside, but that didn't stop me from fangirling. Once we'd all gotten our pictures taken in front of the castle, we headed off to the final stop of the day: Stirling Castle. This was the first full-scale castle I've ever been in, and it was a jaw-dropping experience. I grinned like a kid in the candy store as I strode through the cobblestone streets, explored the great hall, and searched for the site of the Battle of Bannock Burn from the Ladies' Lookout.

Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!

Sterling Castle

While Sterling Castle offered some truly impressive views of the countryside, Edinburgh Castle, which I visited Tuesday morning, was made impressive by the sheer amount of history it held. During my time there, I got to see the Crown Jewels of Scotland and the Destiny Stone on which dozens of Scottish kings were crowned. I visited the room where King James VI was born, a great hall filled with authentic weapons, and the Half-Moon Battery over the ruins of David's Tower. Then, because I couldn't resist, I nipped down to a store on the Royal Mile and bought myself a kilt.

Edinburgh Castle

I spent my Tuesday afternoon roaming aimlessly around the streets of Edinburgh. I checked out the Museum of Childhood, where I saw some very creepy dolls, and the Museum of Edinburgh, where I learned more about the history of "Auld Reekie." I took a stroll through Prince's Street Gardens, saw the church where Agatha Christie got married, and made it back to the hostel in time to watch How to Train Your Dragon in the cinema room (for the record, there is something very surreal about watching your favorite movie while being 3,000 miles from home and within spitting distance of a castle). To round out the night, I went on the Haunted Tour of Edinburgh. Did you know that in the olden days, the residents of Edinburgh dumped their sewage in a nearby lake, and the methane buildup caused them to hallucinate fairies? Because I didn't, not until an Australian tour guide in a kilt told me.

Fountain in Prince's Street Gardens

On Wednesday, my last full day in Edinburgh, I visited the Writers Museum and learned about three Scottish authors/poets: Robert Louis Stevenson, Robert Burns, and Sir Walter Scott. Then, I visited the National Museum of Scotland, where I learned about..all sorts of things, really. For me, the highlight of that particular stop was seeing an authentic 14th-century great helm. From the museum, I trekked past the Elephant House restaurant, otherwise known as the Birthplace of Harry Potter. It was too crowded for me to go in, but it was neat to see the origin place of the series that revolutionized children's literature.

National Museum of Scotland

Finally, for the grand finale of my stay in Scotland, I decided I wanted to hike to Portobello Beach and see the ocean. I got about halfway there before I realized that while my brain was up to the task, my weary feet most certainly were not. My journey wasn't a total wash, though. My wandering had taken me to the far side of Holyrood Park, and after a bit of exploring, I found a muddy little path that led me along the edge of Duddingston Loch. I spent some time there, struck half-dumb by the gorgeousness of the wild scenery so close to a bustling city. Even though I never made it to the beach, when I finally headed back to the hostel, I found that I couldn't regret a single minute of my day.

Duddingston Loch

The next morning, I caught a train from Edinburgh to London, then a bus from London to Bath. That was an adventure in and of itself, but that's a story for another time. I spent most of Friday and Saturday doing laundry and generally recuperating from my travels. Then, on Saturday evening, I hopped in a car with my friends from the Bath Spa Reenactment Group and headed to the reenactment of the Battle of Edgehill.

I know I've said this about a lot of my mishaps, but this truly was the most insane adventure I've had while abroad. For starters, the lovely English weather decided to fulfill its stereotype of being rainy and cold, and the drive to the battle site was fraught with flooded roads. Unfortunately, the site was also flooded when we arrived, so the reenactment of the actual battle had to be canceled. Still, reenactors are nothing if not resilient, and my friends and I were determined to have a good time. So they lent me some 17th-century clothing, we got geared up, and we headed out for meat pies and several hours of relaxing, friendly conversation at the local pub.

I was pretty worn out, so at 11pm, I said goodnight to my friends and headed back to the scout hut--the hall where we were staying for the night. After changing into my pajamas and putting my temporary kit somewhere safe, I crashed on a borrowed mattress for the night. Then, at around 2am, I was jolted awake by the sound of a thunderous crash. Now, in retrospect, I probably should've been concerned about this. But at the time, I was exhausted, confused, and disoriented. So I simply shrugged, thought "eh, not my problem," and promptly went back to sleep.

The next morning, I did some asking around and found out what had happened: upon returning from the pub, one of the men in the group had challenged another to a "pike push," which is basically a shoving contest. A third man, knowing that one of the pushers had a bad back and the other was a veritable tank, had jumped in to try and even things out. In the end, all three of them had gone hurtling straight through a closet door, with two of them crashing painfully onto a table. As I ate my breakfast and got dressed in my kit, I couldn't help but feel relieved that I'd gone to bed early!

Once our regiment was, for the most part, dressed and ready, we set off to participate in a memorial parade for those who died in the real Battle of Edgehill. Which, I found out on the drive there, was to take place in a UK military base. As American who was carrying a bunch of diabetes supplies but no passport (nobody had told me to bring it!), this understandably made me extremely anxious. Thankfully, however, everything went off without a hitch. My friends armed me with a pike and stuck me in the middle of the group, and we paraded to the center of the base, where we witnessed a lovely little memorial service. Then, with much saluting and shifting of pikes, we marched back out to the parking lot, where I could finally take a breath of relief.

Me in 17th Century Kit--Before They Told Me About the Military Base!

So yeah. On my midsemester break, I backpacked across a country, visited three castles, and carried a pike through a UK military base. It was absurd and chaotic and wonderful, and I don't think I'll ever have another experience quite like it. In conclusion, God bless Scotland.

Thanks for reading!

Abby

Artsy Picture of the Day: The River Clyde in Glasgow