We left Ireland on Thursday around 5:30 pm and arrived in Edinburgh (pronounced Edinburough for all of you non-Europeans out there) around 6:40, getting us to our hostel a little after 7. Our taxi driver was our typical older man. If your typical older man is an adorable Scottish one (and one who actually knows where Missouri is!). He was able to tell us a little about the city and the area where we were going to be staying, as well as how to get to the Old City, so all in all it was well worth the money to deliver us right at the front door(s) of our hostel. Which was an old church. Yes, you read it correctly - an old church. As cool as it sounds, it was actually kind of annoying. An experience I'm happy to have had, but you think it echoes loudly when you're in church? Try to actually sleep in there, not just doze during the sermon. When the loud Argentinians next door (if you can call it that since none of the rooms had ceilings, just walls) won't shut up at 3 am. Yeah. Not fun. And the showers were in the basement. It was an odd feeling walking back up with a towel wrapped around my wet hair, especially when the door back up is right by where the alter used to stand. Hello, God. How's it going today? Awkward...
But Edinburgh was gorgeous. The first night we found our handy-dandy McDonalds with free WiFi and planned out our stay there. We spur of the moment decided to take a day-long bus tour of the Highlands (including Loch Ness of course). Which is where the quote from above comes in. It was said by our hilarious, long lost Scottish cousin/tour guide who chauffered us around in his Mercedes (bus...but whatevs) for 12 hours. And boy was it totally worth it! The morning was really foggy, and we were kind of scared it wasn't going to clear up, but by our first stop in the small town of Pitlochry it was starting to lift (or 'burn off'' as Chris our tour guide said). Here we grabbed some coffee/hot chocolate at the Cafe Chocolate and then were on our way once more.
Our next stop was by some loch - don't remember which one - but of course it was amazing! The next stop, for lunch, was at Loch Ness, where I'm sorry to say nothing monsterish appeared to us. Except for the multiple 'replicas' they've built around the place. We picniced right on the waterfront and then took a nap along the canal lock system that feeds into the loch. It was sunny and pretty and totally made my day. And a little adorable fishing boat was working its way up the canal, so that was fun and interesting to watch!
After lunch we headed on our way back south, stopping in some small town for whiskey tasting, which we decided not to partake of, and then stopped once more at Glencoe, which is the site of Hagrid's cabin in HP 3/4 in the movies, as well as the inspiration for Mordor in Lord of the Rings. We had a nerd moment and took pictures with this amazing scenery as our backdrop. It really was jawdropping. I didn't think land like this existed anywhere. That was our last stop of the day, and we arrived back in the city center around 7:30 pm. Here are some quotes from Chris:
- 'You know the orcs from Lord of the Rings? *orc noise* That's what the Highland women were like. Can you imagine the men?'
- 'We don't hate the English - we hate the Beckhams.'
- 'I'll tell you about Uncle Mel later...'
and then:
- 'No, William Wallace was not some 2' 5" Australian-American. He was huuge!'
and then passing a midget horse:
- 'Look! See that horse! That was Mel's horse. They had to choose a little one to make him look big!'
- Then anything mean about the English, pretty much voiding his statement about the Beckhams. This was one nationalistic Scottish man, my friends. But hilarious just the same, probably because of it actually.
The next day we woke up early and visited our first Starbuck's on the British Isles. Where I read my first newspaper since January and leaving the US. I felt at home, that's for sure. At 11 am we hopped on the free walking tour of Edinburgh with our guide Andrew, who was not quite as entertaining as Chris had been, but he did the job well. The day was cold and windy, and threatened to rain most of the morning until it actually did mid-afternoon. But the tour was really cool and took us to places we would have seen but known nothing about otherwise. For instance, we learned about two Irish men who loved to kill people and then sell their bodies to the University for money to go and get hammered with. Of course they would. Because that's what the Irish do. And only now can I fully appreciate this story and find it not only funny but believeable as well.
In the afternoon all three of us bought various books pertaining to Harry Potter, because we're in his birthplace after all. Respect, people, respect. And then went to the Elephant Cafe, where he really was born. As much as a fictional character can be at least. And then, like the nerds we are, we took a picture of us reading our newly purchased books in the cafe before quickly fleeing the scene.
And that brought us to the close of Edinburgh. This morning we hopped on a bus to Manchester, making a pit stop in Glasgow for half an hour, and arrived here a little before 4 pm. We checked in, meeting one of our multiple Aussie roommates along the way (only to meet others later...what's with the Australians? The Irish loove their soaps, and apparently the Aussies love the UK...). Then we planned out our stay in Manchester and went to eat dinner. Not at McDonalds surprisingly but at a real restaurant with nice silverware and plates that get washed instead of thrown away after use. Odd for us. And really refreshing.
Then we hit up the local Tesco (which brought on waves of comfort just like any time I see a Spar store) for PB and apples to eat tomorrow for lunch on our planned picnic at an old, run down abbey out in the middle of nowhere. It's a History Boys thing, so...yeah. We plan on stealing some slices of bread from the hostel, since toast and tea are free 24/7. Really, it's not stealing since if we were here we'd probably eat that many slices of bread anyways. In my mind at least.
And that's really it. It's a lot like Ireland, but a lot different too. The Manchester accent is really hard to understand, even harder than James' Sligo accent I think (!!), especially in a crowded restaurant. But the Scottish one was heavenly! And made me realize that the only accent I don't think I could ever fake is the Irish one. What makes it so hard to replicate I don't know, but there's something about it. Whenever I try it just sounds like I'm immitating Bob Marley or something. Not normally what I'm going for...
We're here in Manchester until Tuesday night when we board our first UK train (yay for trains instead of buses! Brings back good memories of most of Germany oddly enough...) to Bath. We're in Bath for three days and four nights, during which time we plan on going to Stonehenge and Wales. The rest is yet to be decided. From there it's off to London for two nights and then back to Ireland and UL and classes. Yay...? I'll try to update this again between now and then! And then put up pictures of our UKing adventures eventually.
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