You get one free shot of cheap whiskey. Now go back to the start and read my other blogs. I ain't touchin your grubby hands till then.
Oh keep the heid, calm down. Have a seat. All worthy gentlemen and bonnie lassies, and everyone else, pull up close to the peat fire. I've just returned from the most wondrous of countries.
Where the barren hills are awash in the purple flame of the heather, where the sounds of drum and pipe echo down the glen, where the stories of ages past are as bracing as the wind under your kilt, where the gift shops and bus passes are a third the price of everywhere else, and where the people are warmer than the warmest fire.
If anyone has ever told you that Scotland was worth visiting, you should punch them because they lied to you. You shouldn't visit. You should stay for as long as you can.
Up to this point my tours through the UK had been fantastic. I had found some truly entrancing places, heard some enthralling history and met some really helpful people. Everything was beyond my expectations because I didn't really have any. However up until now I hadn't found any place where I could see myself living long-term.
That changed pretty rapidly.
But lets take this one day at a time.
On the 5th day of April in the year of our Lord 2011, I set out by train from Ely to Edinburgh. Armed with Alpha(camera), Ratatosh(laptop) and a couple pairs of pants, I had given myself four days to explore this supposedly epic place I'd heard of and seen Mel Gibson try to save. Not much research had been done ahead of time. I knew a few highlights that I was supposed to see. I knew it had some neat castles, I knew I had to eat haggis and scotch. Maybe buy some wool. I heard it was cool. That's about it.
As the sun rose and the latitude increased, the countryside became pretty damn pretty. Northumberland reluctantly gave way to the Scottish borderlands. Purple far-off mountains rose on my side of the train with a flowing tartan of green fields, blue rivers and millions of white sheep.
Beyond the sleeping Chinese man to my right I caught my first views of the North Sea. Mixed with the incredibly clear skies we had that day, the waters somehow seemed a lot bluer than I expected it to be.
|No Vikings to be seen. Damn.|
I couldn't see the city so much as feel it around me. The angle of the train's entrance hadn't allowed me many good views of the capital, but as I grabbed my taxi to find my b&b the city's unique character grabbed my attention.
At first the old cobble streets and grey-gold stone buildings seem grubby. Everything is a bit rougher here, there's less plastic and metal covering things up than in London or even York. However the streets aren't really that dirty. In fact I'd go as far as to say they feel a bit cleaner than most big cities I've visited, London included.
After a five minute taxi drive I arrived at my home base for the next few days, the Alexander Guest House. A very vertical b&b that continuously reminded me of Faulty Towers. The stairs were long and the place was nearly empty, but the room was nice and Heather my host had lots of travel advice for me. She even gave me a free upgrade to the room on the top floor facing the street. Uh...winning.
Next I caught a ridiculously cheap bus to the city center. This is a stretch of cobblestone called the Royal Mile. Turns out that Edinburgh is actually built on a dormant volcano. This street runs from the top, starting at the castle, and goes all the way down to the edge of the city center close to a nearby mountain called Arthur's seat.
They city's "rough around the edges" quality had made me apprehensive at first, but I was quickly getting to like it. They weren't hiding any thing. And another thing. The people walking down the main street actually gave me eye contact. It's a real struggle to get someone in a British city to look you in the eye. Getting them to smile takes even more work. I got more waves and toothy grins in these first few moments on the Royal Mile than in an entire weekend in London.
My first bit of awesome this trip happened to be waiting for me on the street. I had arrived just in time for a free tour of Edinburgh's main streets. A local student named Mark from Manchester led us up and down the city streets, sharing the city's history and telling us all about the ways they used to kill people in this city. I didn't absorb half of the information given, but it was a damn good time and a perfect way to become better acquainted with the city.
|Mark's telling us about that one guy who got his intestines tied around a tree.|
|People used to pay taxes to the man here. Now they spit on him here for good luck.|
|This is the market square where thieves got their ears pierced...into the stone walls...|
Occasionally we would happen upon a building that would be black as pitch. Several of them poke up out of the skyline like foreign obelisks. Come to find out that the city used to be heated by peat, a substance taken from the ground in a bog and used as fuel in a fire. The smoke stained the stone after countless years, and even after it's use has been abolished within the city, the stains still haven't come off all of the buildings. It makes the buildings in question much more striking. Especially since they tend to be cathedrals or monuments that look a bit like black citadels.
About halfway through the three hour tour(sigh...those poor, poor people) we caught our first clear views of Edinburgh Castle. A truly imposing fortress springing from the black volcanic rock beneath it; I feel sorry for the soldiers who had to try and take it over the years. Pretty drafty up there I guess, which explains why the royalty usually stayed at the Abby at the other side of the mile.
|"Oh hey this is a cool wall. What's it made of Mark?" "Witches Brian. Witches."|
|Have a drink Mr. Hare!|
Past the witching wall we found ourselves in one of the many graveyards within the city. Twas quite creepy cool, with more graves and mausoleums than I could possibly count. We learned about the many haunted spots within that particular graveyard. One particular mausoleum held a murderer whose name escapes me...he was a benign spirit until some sleepy bum broke into his tomb and tried to cuddle. Now he's super cranky. Gotta give a ghost his space. We also heard about a dog named bobby who refused to leave his masters side, even two years after he died. Sad.
|Apparently that's Hogwarts in the background there...|
After that we took some quick turns, went up and down numerous alleys and somehow ended up in a glorious park beneath the castle. This was the image i had seen on a thousand postcards about Edinburgh and it was cool to see it first hand.
After a couple more cool stories were told in the grass, our group dispersed. A few of us followed Mark up the street to his favorite pub. There we tried Haggis. Tasted like Liver. Then I gave it back and ordered a Scottish hamburger. Much better.
The day was spent but the night was young. After a quick refresher at my b&b, I joined some of my tourmates and Mark on a pub crawl. Details become fuzzy at this point. I know that several bars came and went. One of which had a life-size frankenstien's monster fall out of the ceiling at one point. Our tour ticket gave us one free drink at each bar. So many jager-bombs and pints and whiskeys were had. Those Australians really love to party.
And I know that there was a club at the end of the night. However I felt like I had not consumed the right type of drug to enjoy said club so at about 1:30 a.m. I called it in.
|Didn't bring my camera...hate myself for being paranoid...|
|4-5-11 First Day in Edinburgh|
So there was my first day in Scotland. Next came a day of castles and hikes, followed by a tour through the Scottish Highlands.
Come back quick!! Or I'll have to drink all this nice scotch on my own. That should make the next blog more colorful...