August 30, 2011: The Western Highlands

At long last, my adventures with Wild in Scotland from two months ago!  The accompanying photos are all mine, taken on previous trips to Scotland.

***

There were 15 of us on the tour:
Team America: Yours truly.
Team Canada: Derwyn and Kathy, a couple celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary.
Team Russia: Mila and Elena.
Team Australia: A couple named Danny and Tina, and also a girl named Laura who was traveling alone.
Team Germany: Andrea.
Team South Africa: Three couples, whose names I am extremely ashamed to say I've forgotten.

Our driver was Danny (not to be confused with Australian Danny), with whom I have now done three WIS tours.  He swears he's not sick of me yet.  :)

We boarded the 16-passenger mini-bus (more of a large van, really) on High Street in Edinburgh, and immediately began driving west.  Our first stop was Bannockburn, site of a battle which took place in 1314, in which the Scots under Robert the Bruce decisively defeated the English forces under Edward II.

The monument on the battlefield:

Robert the Bruce:

Stirling Castle, seen from Bannockburn:

After hearing a bit about Scottish history, we continued on to Doune Castle.  This should look familiar to any Monty Python fans out there:

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



We continued northwest through the Trossachs, stopping along the way to say hi to some hairy coos:

Meet Heather!  She has a boyfriend named Hamish, and they have an absolutely adorable baby named Honey.  We fed them veggies.

Then we turned north and drove up into some of the most spectacular scenery on earth.  I love the western highlands of Scotland.  I don't possess the vocabulary to describe to how much I love them.  More recently on the train ride from Oban to Glasgow a couple of weeks ago, I was hugging myself most of the way because I just wanted to take it all in my arms.  That glorious.

Buachaille Etive Mòr:

This area also has some pretty tragic history associated with it, most notably the massacre of 38 members of the MacDonald Clan by the Campbell Clan, under the orders of the British (yes, British - England and Scotland were united under one monarch by this point in history) government in 1692.

A quick note about Highland Hospitality: Scottish Weather is even more unpredictable and contrary in the highlands, so Highland Hospitality was (and continues to be - I had firsthand experience of this on Tiree) a very real way of life.  If anyone knocked on your door during bad weather, you let them in, fed them, and gave them a place to sleep until they were able to move on, which might not be for weeks.  Even if your worst enemy claimed Highland Hospitality, you couldn't touch them.  Most of the outrage over the Glencoe Massacre stemmed from the fact that those doing the massacring had claimed Highland Hospitality with the MacDonalds. 

Anyway, as tragic as Glencoe is, it sure it pretty:

We spent most of the ride into the highlands arguing about what to have for dinner.  Chicken fajitas eventually won out, and we stopped in Fort William for a food run before continuing on to Spean Bridge.  This part of the country is where the commandos trained during World War II, and there's a memorial to them there.  There are also spectacular views of Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in the British isles (4,409 feet), to be seen from the memorial.

Ben Nevis and a few other bens:

Our final stop of the day was Eilean Donan Castle, featured in Highlander, a Bond movie, and several other films.  The original castle was destroyed in the 1700s, and what you see today is a replica rebuilt between 1919 and 1932.  Someone had the bright idea to give it huge windows and a permanent bridge to the mainland (as it's on an island in Loch Duich), so it would never actually pass as a functional castle.  We managed to crash a Japanese wedding while we were there.  There is actually not a great view of the castle in this photo, but I'm quite fond of it because of the mystical haze rising in the background.  Tee hee.

After a rather full day of sight-seeing, we continued on to a little village called Plockton, which was our home for the night.  The roads became single-track at some point, and there was one very memorable moment when we came face-to-face with an entire herd of hairy coos blocking the road.  That's one photo I'm quite disappointed to have lost.

We had chicken fajitas for dinner, and then several of us went to the local pub for some live music.  It was a small place, and extremely crowded, but friendly.  The bunkhouse where we staying was cramped, with barely enough room to turn around in the dorms, but hey, it's a good exercise in team-building!

***

I'm going to do my damndest to blog about one day, each day, for the next ten days, because it's past time I documented this adventure and I'm going to despise myself later if I don't.

Cheers, y'all!

Big Brother is watching you.

I woke up with a sore throat and the beginnings of post-nasal drip this morning. I might have the guy who coughed unceasingly through class on Tuesday to thank for that.

Still nothing in the trap. I'm just going to assume that the mouse has gone on its merry way, because it takes very little to trigger that cheapo trap. A mouse sniffing the thing would probably do it.

Yesterday I did my first "attendance check-in," required for all Tier 4 visa students. It's meant to prove that I'm actually attending class, and not just gallivanting around Scotland. There will be another in February and a third in June or July. It all feels very Big Brother to me, but the Home Office has been on the news a lot lately trying to battle people who come into the country under false pretenses. If I get in a writing kind of mood someday, an essay on what it's like to be a legal immigrant in the UK might be in order.

I also got my CV looked over at the career services office. Basically, they approved, but said I should tailor it to each opening I apply for, which is good advice. Today's mission: applying for jobs!

Basically, I'm living in Tyler Durden's house.

I've been living in this flat for about 7 weeks, and the honeymoon period is well and truly over.  Haven't caught the mouse yet, or at least I hadn't when I checked the trap this morning.  I can't bring myself to go into the kitchen even though I'm ravenously hungry, because I don't know what I'll see.  The bathroom pipes groan fractiously whenever someone takes a shower, flushes the toilet, or runs the faucet in the sink for longer than 3 seconds.  The TV satellite has achieved sentience and shows however many channels it feels like showing - anywhere from none at all to the 100+ we're supposed to get.  At the moment, it's getting 6.  I have bug bites all over my legs, and I don't know where they're coming from.  I don't think they're bedbug bites because they're not red and livid enough to be, but I'm only ever barelegged while in bed, so it seems like a logical explanation, unless there's a very determined mosquito in my room (also possible).  The downstairs kitchen floor is just filthy and has been since the day I moved in - the kind of filthy that we'd have to move the appliances out of the way to clean properly.  In my mind, this is the renting agency's job, and they clearly haven't done it in ages, if ever.

My lease is up in the first week of March, and I've already decided to move out.  Gotta stick it out until then, though.

Cheers, y'all.

Eeek!

I had my first mouse sighting last night.  I heard soon after I moved in that there was a mouse that lived in the upstairs kitchen, but didn't want to believe it.  Last night, it invited itself down to the downstairs kitchen.  I saw it scurry across the floor while I was watching TV in the living room.  I went to the B&Q (similar to Home Depot in the US) on Easter Road and bought some traps today.  They're the kind where the mouse wanders in and it snaps shut, and then you throw the whole thing away.  I've set one in the kitchen, so we'll see how it works.

In other news, Research Methods I is technically over, although the final exam isn't until November 3.  I had my first Professional Skills class yesterday.  I had high hopes for this one because the syllabus looks like it'll have some real, nitty-gritty practical application, but the lecturer has no idea what he's talking about and has admitted to that fact.  Plus, we're actually going to be taught by a few different people, so I'm not optimistic about continuity here.

Two missions tomorrow: Going to the Academic Registry for my census point, and getting my CV looked at.

Cheers, y'all.

Bored, lonely, and unmotivated.

It's been almost a week since my last update, but there hasn't been much to tell.  I'm lonely without my Aussie flatmates here.  I'm bored with nothing to do on non-lecture days.  I've been very unmotivated to do schoolwork this week - it's Sunday night and I'm just now getting down to it.  I can't even blame my malaise on the weather, because the weather has actually been reasonable for the last few days. 

I walked around Salisbury Crags yesterday afternoon, doing an irregular loop of the Radical Road and Volunteer's Walk.  It was a part of Holyrood Park that I had never explored before, and it was beautiful.  I could almost have been on the Isle of Skye.  And parts of it were out of sight of any signs of the city, so I could almost have been 500 years in the past, walking across the moor between the highest part of the crags and Arthur's Seat.

I went to a ceilidh organized by the Hillwalking Club last night.  It was fun and I got to socialize more than I had all week, but the band wasn't as good as the one at the postgrad ceilidh, and I felt like I was the only person who had come alone, which just kind of exacerbated the loneliness.  I did get to dance about half of the dances, though.

I've updated my CV, and this week's big project is to get it looked over at Career Services, and then start looking for a part-time job.  I'm hoping that having a job will help to alleviate the loneliness and the boredom, and also force me to focus and manage my time more.  I also have go to the Academic Registry this week for my first "census point," to prove to the immigration police that I'm actually attending class and not just flouncing around Scotland.

Daylight savings ends for the UK next week, which will put the sunset time in Edinburgh at about 4:45pm, and getting ever earlier as we get closer to the solstice.  I must start taking my vitamin D more regularly.

Cheers, y'all.

Tuition and Tiree

I paid my tuition today.  All 12,200 pounds of it.  I am now officially committed.

And now, my trip to Tiree last week!  I was a good little journal-writer while I was gone, so I'm just going to transcribe it all here, with some minor edits.  Enjoy!

***

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

After an early-morning train ride to Glasgow and a short ride in a tiny plane, I arrived on the Isle of Tiree.  The airport is tiny - basically just a large-ish room with a little conveyor belt to one side for the luggage (and it doesn't even convey anything - the baggage handlers just shove it through from the outside).  And there's absolutely nothing around it - just fields, the ocean, and a little "Rural Centre" and cafe up the road.  I had my phone out and was about to call Tiree's Ring N Ride service when a random guy named Ivan offered me a lift.  He had a big fluffy white dog in the backseat which panted the whole time.

I'm at the Millhouse Hostel, in Cornaig, on the north side of the island.  It was completely deserted when I got there, but the owner, Judith, had left me a note saying where my room was and to make myself at home.  I accordingly stashed my stuff in the 6-bed dorm where I'm staying for the next 3 nights (3 beds including mine appear to be occupied), and set off in search of a phone signal and food.

I found a phone signal just a little down the road from the hostel.  Food was a more arduous quest.  There appear to be no grocery stores or restaurants in Cornaig, although I walked around a bit looking for one.  This included a foray possibly onto some cattle farmer's property, at which point I discovered that there is nothing more disconcerting than having about ten cows all staring at you strangely.

Stymied by the lack of eating facilities in Cornaig, I resolved to walk the 2 miles east to Balephetrish and try my luck there.  It's a full 5 miles to Scarinish, the main town on Tiree (and also the ferry port), and I wondered whether most of the island's facilities might be there.  Tiree is 12 miles long and 3 miles wide and there are villages all over, but for all I know, everyone drives to Scarinish to go shopping.  I had to make way for quite a lot of cars on the one-track roads, and got stared at by many more cows and a few sheep along the way.

I was maybe a mile down the road to Balephetrish when I came to a T-intersection with a road running off to the right (south), and a sign by it directing me to a cafe.  I decided that rather than take my chances on a place that might have food, I'd go where there was definitely food.

This was a mistake, because the cafe advertised is in fact the Cobbled Cow, which is the cafe attached to the Rural Centre, which is next to the airport.  So I ended up walking nearly the entire width of the island to get here.  FML.  But perhaps not such a mistake, because it's a very nice cafe, and serves breakfast all day.  I just had a full Scottish breakfast, and there are also some very yummy-looking cakes...

***

Friday, October 14, 2011

I did have a piece of the Cobbled Cow's raspberry sponge cake, and it was quite tasty.  Just as I got up to leave at the end of my meal, who should turn up but Ivan, the guy who gave me a lift from the airport.  He asked incredulously whether I had walked there and how I was getting back, and suggested that if I couldn't get ahold of the Ring N Ride, that I "have a hitch."

This is how I came to be standing on the side of the road from Crossapol to Balephetrish with my thumb out on a Wednesday afternoon.  A father with two kids and a dog (all holidaying from Fife) picked me up and dropped me off at my hostel without incident.  Add hitchhiking to my list of firsts!

Besides me, there were seven other people staying at the hostel when I arrived: a Swiss guy named Thomas, a German girl named Ulrike, and a family of five from Aberdeenshire - Neil, Tessa, and their kids Andrew (age 16), Ian (14), and Graham (11).  We all congregated together over dinner and chatted a lot.  The Scottish family were there taking windsurfing lessons, Ulrike goes to Tiree regularly to surf, and Thomas, like me, was there just because.

Yesterday, I rented a bike and rode to the Co-Op in Scarinish, which is in fact one of only two grocery stores on Tiree.  The other is an independent place in Crossapol.  Scarinish is 5 miles from Cornaig.  The first two miles were relatively easy going, but then the wind strengthened and blew at me at me the rest of the way.  I had to walk the bike quite a bit, because I just couldn't pedal against it.  And then when I had completed my food shopping and was ready to ride back, the wind swung around blew at me all the way home.  Plus there was another reason for my difficulties - the bike seat was slowly and steadily sinking.  But I got my groceries and all was well, except for my saddle-soreness.

In the afternoon, I studied a bit at the hostel, and also read a book called Your Royal Hostage by Antonia Fraser.  I'm about halfway through it now - we'll see if I can finish it before I leave tomorrow.  At a little before 4pm, I walked the 45 minutes to Ballavulin to watch the Tiree Wave Classic.  The competition itself was over for the day, but there were still windsurfers out on the water, as well as surfers and body-boarders.  Everyone from the hostel with the exception of Thomas eventually showed up as well.  The sun had been out for most of the afternoon, and we got a proper sunset.

Everyone left this morning except for me and Ulrike.  We had a bit of a lazy morning, because it was incredibly rainy and windy outside.  Tiree is quite flat, which means that weather tends to blow over quickly.  But this also means that gale-force winds can kick up.  The sun came out at about 11:00, and I left at about noon for the Cobbled Cow again (with a stop-off at a little souvenir shop called Beachcomber Crafts), which is where I am now.  I had a bowl of vegetable soup and a haggis roll, both of which were amazing.

***

Thus end my journal entries.  The strong southerly wind blew me all the way back to Cornaig - hardly had to pedal.  I took a little break, and then biked back to Ballavulin to watch some more watersports.  By the time I got there, it was clear that the weather was about to turn, to I only hung out for about 20-25 minutes before biking back.  Once again, I managed to get the wind behind me, which was fortunate because it started raining again as I was biking back, and I was wet through by the time I got back to Cornaig.  Other guests had arrived for the evening - four 20- and 30-something Scots, once again from Aberdeenshire, and a family of 3 of indeterminate nationality, all visiting Tiree for the windsurfing.  Ulrike and I played a round of Scrabble with two of the Scots after dinner.

Ulrike and I both left on Saturday, and rode the ferry and the train together as far as Glasgow.  The ferry journey from Tiree to Oban (calling at the Isle of Coll on the way) is nearly four hours long, and I passed the time by looking at the scenery, eating in the ferry cafe, and napping.  We had about an hour in Oban before catching the train to Glasgow, so I grabbed a takeaway dinner of scampi and chips for the train.

The train ride from Oban to Glasgow is one of the most scenic in in Britain - second only to the other branch of the West Highland Line, from Mallaig to Glasgow.  Indeed, it's made the top of people's most scenic in the entire world lists.  It goes through the southern part of the Western Highlands and the prettiest parts of Argyll, taking three hours.  It was cloudy and misty most of the way, which just made everything look more mystical and enchanting.

Ulrike and I parted ways in Glasgow, and I took the train to Edinburgh on my own, getting in at about 8:30pm, having left Tiree at about 11:00 that morning.

Week 4: Srs bsns.

I've just turned in my first to-be-graded assignment of the year!  It's for my stress class, and it's a 1000-word critical appraisal of a journal article of my choosing.  It's only worth 20% of my total grade and is meant to get everyone back in writing shape for the Serious Business term papers start coming due in December...but I'm still antsy about it!

While I'm on the subject, I should mention that they grade things differently here than they do in the States.
70-100 = A
60-69 = B
50-59 = C
40-49 = D
<40 = F

Now, before anyone goes "So anything passing in the States is an A in Britain HOW EASY IS THAT," I have been advised that I will never, ever receive a mark above an 80.  Ever.  Why they don't just make 80 the highest possible mark, rather than 100, has not been satisfactorily explained to me.  But anyway, the thing to is to add 20 points to whatever mark I get here, in order to approximate what it would be in the US.  As in the US, a D is only sorta-kinda-but-not-really passing.  In fact, it's defined as "passing at a Postgrad Diploma level, but not a Masters level."

SO.  We'll soon see if my academic writing is still up to snuff!

Cheers, y'all.

"Hori, horo, my bonny wee girl"

So, there's a big car rally on Mull this week and all the accommodation is full, so that plan is out and I'm looking at going to Tiree instead.  It's the westernmost of the Inner Hebrides and a 4-hour ferry ride from Oban, and it's got tons of sandy beaches and the most sunshine in Scotland.  And it's got its own love song!

There is so much world and I must see it ALL!!!!

Weather forecast: Rain. Rain rain rain. Rain forever and unceasing.

Oh God, I have to get out of this city. Making plans to visit some of the Inner Hebs next week - Mull and Iona, and possibly Staffa. Hang the cost (which actually isn't that much, outside of the train ticket to and from Oban). There is SO MUCH of Scotland I have yet to see, and the weather is only going to get shittier this side of April, so the time is NOW.

Other trips I want to do:
Tiree. Supposed to be the sunniest place in Scotland. Yes please.
Islay and Jura. The whisky isles. But I have to figure out how the eff to get to Kennacraig first, because there's no train and I'm finding conflicting info on buses. Maybe save this one until spring.
Shetland. This place is closer to the Arctic Circle than it is to London. Thinking of giving a big middle finger to sanity and doing this one in winter. Hee.

Outside of Scotland:
Wales. I absolutely want to make it to Wales, because I actually have ancestors there. But there only seem to be two companies who run backpacker tours there, and I have moral objections to how one does business, and the other one just doesn't look that fun. So it looks like I'll be doing it solo, unless I find an obliging friend. I have a window in late November and early December between the end of lectures and when my term papers start coming due, which I think may be an opportune time for this one.
Norway. I'd like to make this one happen sometime next summer, if I can get time away from dissertation-writing. We'll see.
The southern part of Ireland, around Cork and Kerry. This is the bit I missed out on when I did my big trip through Europe two years ago, so I'd like to go back and do it.
Long shots: Ukraine and Russia.

THERE IS SO MUCH WORLD OUT THERE AND I MUST SEE IT ALLLLL!!!!

Cheers, y'all.

Flatmates

It occurred to me today that I have yet to give a proper rundown of the people I've been living with for nearly the last month.  This is a six-bedroom flat, and is capable of housing ten people when fully occupied.  There were nine when I moved in, including myself:

Andrew: A Scottish guy with whom I shared the "downstairs" part of the flat for exactly two days, as he moved out immediately after I moved in.  He seemed like a very nice, cheerful sort.

Medina: A Kazakh girl who just finished her PhD in finance at the University of Edinburgh.  She also moved out (back to Kazakhstan) about a week after I moved in, so I only ever had about one proper conversation with her.  She also seemed pleasant enough, if a bit preoccupied with her schoolwork and preparations to move back home, but then I think I would be too.

Mandy and Roy: The flatmates I've gotten the closest to by far since moving in.  They're a pair of siblings from Darwin, Australia, and have been living here all summer while on holiday (although Roy has also been working).  I got on like a house on fire with both of them, but unfortunately they've both also moved out - Mandy last Saturday, and Roy today.  As I type this, they're both in London waiting to catch a flight back to Australia via Hong Kong.

Thomas and Nadia: I privately call these two Team Slovakia.  They're a young professional couple (both late 20's, I'd estimate) who I'm on reasonably warm terms with; Thomas more so than Nadia.  They tend to cook and eat their food in the downstairs kitchen, so I see them on a fairly regular basis.  Thomas apparently thought I was English for the first two weeks I lived here, which I'll take as a compliment.  And I guess to be fair, for the same span of time, I didn't realize Nadia actually lived here.

Chris and Sabina: The other young professional couple.  I think they're in their early 30's.  I had high hopes for them, since Sabina has pink hair and many earrings, but they keep pretty well to themselves - I think I've exchanged about 20 words with her since moving in, and fewer with him.  Chris is English and Sabina is some variety of Eastern European - possibly Polish.

So at the moment, it's me, Thomas, Nadia, Chris, and Sabina.  Now that Mandy and Roy have moved out, I think I am going to be very lonely.  Here's hoping some more cool people move in soon...

Cheers, y'all.

Visit from Dad

My dad came to Edinburgh to visit me this weekend!  I was hoping the weather would hold out, since the last half of last week was absolutely gorgeous and incredibly warm, but Scotland being what it is, it turned cloudy and rainy on Saturday.  Oh well.

I met my dad at the airport bus drop-off in front of Waverley, and took him back to my flat.  There are a couple of spare rooms at the moment, so I put him in one of those (ssh, don't tell my landlord).  Then we did my version of the Grand Walking Tour of Edinburgh: down the Royal Mile from Edinburgh Castle to Holyrood Palace, with a detour onto St. John Street to see my school; a brief rest on the grounds in front of the Scottish Parliament, in the shadow of Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat (which make up Holyrood Park); then back up to the castle via Cowgate and Grassmarket, which run parallel to the Royal Mile and offer a stunning view of Castle Rock from the south.  We bought a high E string for my guitar at a little music shop in the Grassmarket, then climbed the steps back up to the castle and cut through Princes Street Gardens to get to Princes Street, and got the bus back to my flat.  In between Holyrood Park and walking back via Cowgate, we had lunch at a pub near the bottom of the mile - fish and chips for him, scampi and chips for me.  After relaxing at my flat for a bit, we ventured out for dinner.  The first place we tried was all booked up for the evening, so we wound up at a restaurant called The Dogs.  It was essentially British food (very meat and potato-y), but done up in a classy way.

Yesterday it rained for much of the day.  We spent most of the morning chilling out at my flat, and then set out to explore the northern part of the city, which I hadn't really done yet.  First we took a bus to the Ocean Terminal, which is a very large mall which reminded me of Southpointe in Durham.  But until Southpointe has a stranglehold on its very own yacht, it won't be on par with the Ocean Terminal.  Yes, that place controls admission to the Royal Yacht Britannia.  I was bemused.  After a few more buses, we eventually wound up in West Granton, which has the benefit of being right on the Firth of Forth, but which is otherwise a very unsightly part of town.  I got the impression that there are a lot of economic problems there.  A lot of stores were run down and shut up, and not just because it was Sunday.  Maybe my impression would have been different if the sun were out, but I don't think so.  After walking around for ages trying to find somewhere to eat lunch, we eventually wound up at a Morrison's with a cafe in it.  After tripping the emergency exit alarm, we hastily made our way to the nearest bus stop and got a bus back to my flat, but not before stopping off at Tesco to get some stuff he insists I need (and which I kind of do - like ziplock bags, for instance).  We had dinner at a sushi place across from The Dogs, which had the most amazing salmon I have ever tasted.  Scotland does seafood AMAZINGLY well.  After a quick stop in to the Black Bull for a post-dinner pint, we went back to my flat and to bed.

Got up at 5:30 this morning to see my dad off to the airport.  It was a really good visit, and the first time I've seen anyone in my family for six weeks.  And now I'm feeling kind of lonely.  Mandy left for London on Saturday morning, and Roy will be moving out on Wednesday.  The rest of my flatmates are two young professional couples who I don't see very much of, so until someone else moves in, I can't turn to them for a social life.  There's a Hillwalking Club trip to Cannich next weekend which I'm thinking about going on, primarily for the social opportunity - it's a weekend trip rather than a day trip, so there'll be more opportunities to socialize.  But then I think back to my experience with Ben Vane and wonder if I want to put myself through that again, not to mention my fellow walkers - I have a very real and I think reasonable fear that I'll be a hazard to myself and to them.

But I'm starting to get friendly with some of my classmates, and I have class this evening, so there's hope from that quarter!

Cheers, y'all.