A Lack of Adventure

Originally, I pictured this blog being all about my adventures abroad. Unfortunately, sometimes these kinds of things give you more of an experience than you had bargained for. In my case, this meant that I got to experience being pretty sick without having access to creature comforts, like staying home from school with my dog, or my mom making me soup to try to make me feel better. This time, I'm living in Scotland, a few thousand miles away from my family, friends, and doggie. So on Friday, when I started to get a sore throat, I figured that I'd be in for quite the un-adventurous weekend.

And right I was. I did absolutely nothing but watch romantic comedies, read some books, and work on a crochet project. Not exactly the exciting, explore Scotland weekend I had envisioned, but it was productive nonetheless. I had finished Catching Fire earlier that week, so now it was time to read Mockingjay. I won't spoil anything for anyone here, but I was really looking forward to finishing the Hunger Games series. I started with The Hunger Games over Christmas break, and instantly fell in love. It's about time that I finish the series! I thought The Hunger Games and Catching Fire were amazing books. Most of Mockingjay lived up to my expectations. But my the end of Mockingjay, I was done. I wanted nothing more to do with the series. I'll put it this way: There's a meme of J. K. Rowling saying "It's hard killing off so many characters." Suzanne Collins does not seem to share this sentiment. Rather, she seems more than happy to pen the deaths of many a beloved character. (Really trying not to ruin anything for anyone, but I needed to rant about that just a bit!)

Now, I'm reading The Help. I've heard only good things about this book, and I'm two chapters in and already I love it. I've also seen the movie, and it doesn't look like the ending of this book is everyone's death, so I'm looking forward to it! But seriously, it does seem like a really good book, and since I really enjoyed the movie, and have yet to watch a movie and thought "You know, that was a lot better than the book," I think The Help will turn out to be an excellent read.

As for my crochet project, I was inspired by a friend from my hall at Arcadia to learn how to crochet. She was in my Harry Potter seminar, and for her final project, she crocheted a Harry Potter doll. So I decided to make my own Harry Potter. (I'm glad I'm starting to feel better now, because if I was still feeling sick, I'd probably have more than one of these lying around!) He doesn't have glasses, but you get the general idea.

Me and Harry. What better place to be a Potterhead than in Scotland? Now he just needs glasses, and Hedwig. 

So, like I said before, not an adventurous weekend, but certainly a productive one. And I was very, very happy to get to the doctor on Monday. I woke up Monday morning and literally could not speak. I tried to talk, and all that happened was a weird kind of breathing sound. On top of that, every time I swallowed, it made me want to cry. The first time it happened, I did cry, only to find that crying somehow made my throat hurt even more. The whole crying thing lasted about five seconds. So I headed to the medical center, wrote out my request to make an appointment, and missed my French class that morning. I really hate missing class, and I really do want to become fluent in French, so this was particularly frustrating. I went to the doctor, she told me I had an infection, told me to what medicine to get from the chemist. When I asked her to write down the name of the medicine, since I'd never heard of it before, she asked where I was from. When I answered "Pennsylvania," she laughed and said she thought I might be foreign, but honestly couldn't tell if I had an accent or if my voice was just that hoarse.

But all that said and done, I can now talk, though I still sound a bit like an elderly person who smokes a lot, I no longer burst into tears if I swallow, and I was able to eat something other than soup for dinner. And, in my opinion, this gives me an even more rounded experience of Scotland. I got to enjoy a simple weekend of doing nothing, and I got to experience a little piece of the United Kingdom's health system. (Dear United States, you could learn a thing or two. A government health system--or even a publicized health system--really isn't such a bad thing. I'm certainly happy to have health insurance!) But again, I digress. I don't mean to compare the politics of the States to those of the United Kingdom. (I like UK politics better! But then again, by American standards, I'm probably considered one of those scary socialists.)

Politics, books, crocheting, romantic comedies, and doctor visits. Not what I envisioned when I thought of studying in Scotland, but I feel like all these experiences are giving me a truly unforgettable experience abroad.

Haggis and Kayaks

After a day of hiking, the Firbush centre held a traditional Burns supper for us. The traditional Burns supper is held in honor of the famed poet, Robert Burns. For our supper, we started with a first course of soup. I can't emphasize enough how delicious the soup was. Then, we got to the haggis. Before the haggis is served, the host recites the Address to a Haggis. One of the men walks in with the haggis, and the host recites the Burns' poem. I'll give you the traditional Scottish version here, as that's how we heard it as our Burns supper.

"Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye wordy o' a grace

As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,

Your hurdies like a distant hill,

Your pin wad help to men a mill

In time o' need,

While thro' your pores the dews distill

Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,

An' cut you up wi' ready sleight

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like ony ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reekin, reich!

Then horn for horn,

they stretch an' strive:

Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,

Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve,

Are bent like drums;

Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,

"Bethankit!" 'hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout

Or olio that wad staw a sow,

Or fricassee wad mak her spew

Wi' perfect scanner,

Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view

On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him ower his trash,

As feckless as a withr'd rash,

His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash,

His niece a nit;

Thro' bloody flood or field to dash,

O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread.

Clap in his walie nieve a blade,

He'll mak it whistle;

An' legs an' arms an' heads will send,

Like taps o' thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill o' fare,

Auld Scotland wants nae skunking ware

That jaups in luggies;

But, if ye wish her grateful' prayer,

Gie her a haggis!"

Now imagine trying to figure out what that means when it's an older man with a thick Scottish accent reciting it. I still don't quite get what it means. After the Address to a Haggis, there was the traditional Toast to the Lassies. In a truly traditional Burns supper, the women have been in the kitchen cooking all night, and the men are the only ones that partake in the supper. The Toast to the Lassies is the mens' way of showing their appreciation for the women. The tradition is that the men can poke fun at the women but it must always end  in a way that acknowledges what the women have done. After this, the lassies toast the lads in return. Here, the lassies are allowed to say pretty much whatever they want. The gentlemen that gave the toast did a very good job, I wish I remembered what they said. The toast from the ladies was also very nice, but again, I don't remember what was said.

Finally, it was time for haggis, turnips, and potatoes. I was a little skeptical about having haggis for the first time, so I only took a tiny spoonful, but it was actually surprisingly good. I don't know quite how to explain it, but I thought it tasted pretty good. One of my friends, who has never eaten meat before in her life, even tried some, and she even thought it was good. Last of all was the dessert, a delicious chocolate cake.

Then, it was time for the ceilidh. This was a bit intimidating for me because ceilidh=dancing, and anyone that knows me will tell you, I'm not a dancer in any sense of the word. One of the Scots who works at Firbush taught us all the steps to the dance, and then everyone would pair up and do the dance. I can't describe any of the dances. I could barely remember them long enough to finish each of the dances! I wasn't looking forward to dancing at first, but by the end of the night, even I was having a blast. There's a ceilidh for Arcadia students next week, so I think I'll be pretty prepared for that one. Towards the end of the ceilidh, one of my friends sang an older Scottish song while one of the Scots played guitar. It was beautiful. I love listening to people sing, and she has a great voice. Again, I wish I had a video to share. For some, the ceilidh continued into the night with an after party. I was dead tired, so I stayed up for a bit, but I went to bed before most.

The next day, there were several options for us to choose from. I decided to go kayaking. I can honestly say I've never been so ridiculously suited up to do anything. Ever. I had to pull on a wetsuit, which isn't necessarily the easiest thing to do. I borrowed shoes from the centre so that mine wouldn't get wet. The wetsuit went over my shirt, but then over that went a water-proof jacket. The wrists were tight to keep water out. Over that, went the life-jacket. To keep my hands warm, I was given pogies. They're gloves that are velcro-ed around the handle of the oar, and then you put your hands into the pogies to hold the oar. And last, but certainly not least, I had to put on the water-proof seal that fits tight around my waist and then gets sealed over the rim around the seat of the kayak so that as much water as possible stays out of the kayak. I don't think I've ever looked so ridiculous in my life. It was awesome.

Out on the water, two of the people in charge of the Firbush centre taught us how to control the boats. With so many of us in such a small space (we didn't go out onto the loch right away. Firbush has a mostly enclosed area to practice in before going onto the loch.), there was a lot of kayaks bumping into other kayaks. Finally we made it out to the loch. It's an awesome feeling, gliding across the water. At first, it felt effortless...until I had been kayaking for about an hour and my arms started to feel sore, and the oar started to feel quite heavy. We stayed close to the shore for a while, but then our group circled an island out in the middle of the loch before heading back to the Firbush centre. We had a small lunch, and then we were free to choose other activities to do. I was pretty tired from hiking, dancing and kayaking, and I had Catching Fire waiting for me in the room, so I decided to stay at Firbush and read until it was time for tea and scones. 

Overall, it was a wonderful weekend. I got to explore some amazing scenery, eat some amazing food, and learn some pretty cool Scottish dances. And I even got to read a good book. 

A Tale of Two Summits

The wonderful sheep of Scotland. And here, I'll include a truly awful joke from my really sweet, vegetarian friend: "Why
did the sheep cross the road? So we could have them for haggis at supper!" (Disclaimer: None of these sheep were harmed in the making of that night's dinner. They're just too cute!)

One of the things I really love about Scotland is the scenery. On the university grounds, there's a loch, swans and rabbits all over the place, and the grounds look amazing. From the grounds, you can see the beginnings of the Ochil Hills. I've been looking up at these mountains since I first arrived on campus, wanting to climb them. Finally one Saturday, I decided to wake up early and head out to climb Dumyat, part of the Ochil Hills range. I checked the weather forecast, dressed appropriately, packed a lunch and headed out.

I intended to do more of a vlog-style post for my trip to Dumyat's summit, but the weather worked against me. It's pretty obvious from the second clip, but the wind was quite strong--and that was at the base of the climb! (P.S., In that section of the video, I only said that the weather report about the wind was quite accurate, I noted that it was snowing, and I tried to point out the landmarks in Stirling's skyline.) Anyway, I was doing well with the whole vlog idea. I was pretty excited to take a video from the top, get some good footage of the views. I was also looking forward to eating lunch.

As I got closer to the summit, it started to get colder, but I was expecting that. I pressed on, my hands shoved deep into my pockets to keep them warm. As I neared the summit, it started to snow. I was only about a fifty-foot climb from the top, and though I knew my clothes wouldn't be enough if the weather worsened, I also knew I would be very disappointed if I made it that close to the top, only to turn back before I got there. So I decided to climb the fifty or so feet to the top. Bad idea.

Almost as soon as I got to the top of Dumyat, the wind and snow worsened into near-blizzard conditions. I couldn't see anything other than the other hikers taking shelter behind the rocks, pulling on extra gear from their backpacks. The wind was so strong that I struggled to stay upright as I staggered towards a small rock formation I could use as shelter. As I had no extra gear, I huddled behind a rock, pulled by hood over my face, pulled the drawstring tight, shoved my hands into my pockets, and hoped the storm would clear quickly.

The storm probably only lasted for about fifteen minutes, but given that I was inadequately dressed, and tend to overreact to dangerous situations, it seemed much longer. Deep down, I knew I was going to be fine--a complete stranger offered me her extra fleece--but, going into full panic mode, I started flashing back to episodes of I Shouldn't Be Alive, where the person telling the story nearly froze to death on a mountain. I was literally sitting on top of a mountain, huddled behind a rock, listening to Tina Fey's audiobook, muttering "I'm too young to die!" Not my proudest moment.

When the wind and snow died down a bit, I decided it was time for me to try to head back down. It was slow going at first--my shoes were not snow appropriate, so I kept slipping, and the wind was so strong that the snow felt like it was cutting my face and hands. Finally, I made it further down the mountain, where the winds weren't so strong, and the snow was no longer coating the mountain around me. From there, I made it down the mountain almost without incident. Since my shoes were not hiking shoes, I had some trouble on the mud. I didn't fall once--until I was right in front of a family stopped for lunch. I wiped out. My foot slid out from under me and I landed flat on my ass. But other than that, the return journey went without any problems, and I was soon back at AK Davidson with a hot chocolate, curled up under my delightfully warm duvet.

Me, Ruth and Aashika in our lovely matching hiking suits.

And now the story of the second summit... One of the many Arcadia-sponsored events of the semester is the Firbush activity weekend, where all sorts of outdoors activities are available. As soon as I saw kayaking and mountain-biking on the list, I signed up. On Friday, the Firbush staff picked the Stirling students up at the train station, and we were off! (A fun fact for the Monty Python fans--the Firbush activity center is only a few miles from the site of the attack of the killer rabbit.)

The first night was just dinner--I can't even describe how much I enjoyed having a delicious dinner without having to do any cooking! Saturday was when the adventures began. For the Arcadia group, Firbush always runs a 'hill walk' on Saturday. If you ask me, this term in no way captures the essence of the experience. To prepare for the hill walk, we were all outfitted with hiking boots, extra socks, waterproof pants, a waterproof jacket, a hat and gloves, and a rucksack. All the jackets and pants were either red or blue, so we looked like a band of surfs heading up the mountain!

The ice on blades of grass caused by all the wind. 

Once we got to the base of the trail, our guide explained that we would be climbing a 'Munro,' which is the term given to mountains with a summit higher than 3,000 feet. The weather was so foggy, that it was impossible to tell where we were headed. In fact, from the base of the trail, I couldn't even tell that there was a mountain nearby! The hike was a pretty good workout. It took somewhere between two and three hours to get to the top, and we stopped for lunch along the way. (I might add that it's not easy to eat lunch with frozen fingers, but it's also not easy to eat with thick mittens on. I tried.)

Just an idea of how thick the fog was...there's
ten people walking in line there.

By the time we reached the summit of the Munro, we were at the snow-capped peaks of the mountain range. The wind at the summit is so strong so often that ice freezes to blades of grass, freezing in large chunks formed by the wind. As our group makes its way to the very top, the fog is so thick that it's difficult to see more than fifteen feet in front of you--I stop hiking at one point to take a few pictures, and when I look up, my small group has disappeared into the fog and mist ahead. I feel as if I'm walking through a cloud.

The descent goes much quicker than the climb--and we get lucky. A strong wind comes through the valley, clearing the fog, and suddenly I can see for what must be miles. The land is beautiful, and when the fog rolls in again, I think that I must have imagined the scenery that is again obscured. Here, I will let the pictures do the talking, for a picture is worth a thousand words. And I'm far to tired to write a thousand words. I will just add that the hiking trip ended perfectly when we got back to the car park to find a group of sheep crossing the road. Apparently the grass is indeed greener on the other side!

The breath-taking views of the valley. I'm so glad the fog cleared out, because this landscape is truly stunning.

A tout a l'heure mes amis!

Living at Uni!

Well, I've been meaning to post this for a while now, so here it is! I've been at Uni for probably something like two weeks now. It's definitely different from Arcadia--the campus is a lot bigger and there's a loch in the middle of the campus. (I don't think our loch's got a monster though, I'll have to head out to Loch Ness for that. We've just got lots and lots of swans.) The class structure is also really different from everything I've seen back in the states. Instead of having classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday for an hour or so each day, there's lectures, tutorials and seminars. I don't really know how to explain it--mostly because I still don't quite understand it! But basically, there's lectures where a professor comes and talks about the subject for that day. Then there's tutorials to go with the lectures where you actually go in depth about the topic and talk about it in groups. My french class in run in seminars. I have it three times a week, and it's pretty similar to classes back home.

The difference I like best here is having my own room! Having a roommate's alright, but if you don't get along with your roommate, things just get really weird. So I'm really, really glad to have a room to myself! And the difference I like least is not having a dining hall. I may have complained about some of the food at Arcadia's dining hall, but I'm not a big fan of cooking. Last night was my most ambitious cooking attempt--cheese quesadillas. They actually turned out really nicely, so I was quite proud of myself.

Another big difference between Stirling and Arcadia is that since pretty much every college student is of drinking age here, there's a bar right on campus. So for me, coming from a small campus where there doesn't seem to be much drinking except for small groups of people, it's a bit weird just being able to walk to the other side of campus and be in a bar.

Other than that, there's not many differences. I do notice the language differences. People will often say 'cheers' where in America we would just say 'thanks.' I think by the time I get back home, I'll be saying cheers instead. Everything's still going great here, I'm looking forward to learning even more about the differences between Scottish culture and American culture. A tout a l'heure!

Sightseeing in Stirling

The same afternoon that I climbed the Scott Monument, the FYSAE group headed out to Stirling for the home stays. We were all split up between several host families, usually two to a house. Alana and I were staying with Jane. I was a little nervous about the homestay--I always find it a little weird at first to be staying at a stranger's house. But Jane was very sweet, and I felt very comfortable staying with her within the first evening I was there. We watched television shows on the BBC, and Jane would explain things that were new to me and Alana. By the end of the night, Jane had given me and Alana a really interesting view of local history. This is honestly one of my favorite ways to learn about cultures--there's nothing quite as good as hearing about the history of a culture from someone who's lived there their whole life.

The first day in Stirling, the FYSAE group met at the central point of the neighborhood. Taxis took us in groups to a museum in town. The museum chronicled the history of Stirling, with artifacts from several centuries stored there. It was fascinating to see all the culture and history preserved in what, by all accounts, is a very small town. After the museum, we all walked from there to Stirling Castle. It was pretty typical weather for Scotland, from what Jane said. It wasn't raining, but it was really foggy, and my glasses kept getting a layer of water droplets on them because the fog was so dense.

This is the main courtyard of the castle. The gray building is the more traditional castle, it's where the royals would have
lived; the building that looks kind of orange is the church. (I don't think you can call it a chapel, because it's huge!)

A shot of the castle from behind the arch off the kitchens.

The building that used to hold the kitchens for the castle.

A row of cannons lined up at one of the walls of the castle. I think they had about ten or fifteen cannons just at the one wall! It was pretty cool; they had so many, so well preserved. 

The castle was amazing. The way it was built was really fascinating. I've always loved old castles, so I was fascinated by Stirling Castle. I'll just let the pictures do the talking here, because I don't think I can do anything in describing it except rave about how much I enjoy exploring castles. After visiting the castle, taxis picked us up again and took us all to a bowling alley...yes, I did indeed go bowling during my first week in Scotland. It was certainly a lot of fun. After bowling, we had time to walk into Stirling to get a feel for the town. I again ended up with the same group I had explored Edinburgh with.

We explored the downtown area of Stirling, which is full of stores, banks, and pubs. We checked out some of the stores, then went to Iceland. Iceland's a cheap grocery store, but it's mostly frozen foods. After that, we went to the Thistles shopping center. I believe it's the equivalent of a mall, it just isn't out on its own the way malls in the States are. After walking around for a while, we called the taxi service to take us back to our respective houses. That night, Jane again told me and Alana stories about the history of Stirling. She also told us more about some of the shows on the BBC.

The view of the Wallace Monument if you're
standing at the base of it. 

The next day, the taxis again picked up all the FYSAE students. This time they took us to the Wallace Monument, which is built in honor of William Wallace (and yes, he is the guy Mel Gibson plays in Braveheart). The monument stands on top of one of the hills in Stirling, so our groups hiked from the gift shop at the bottom of the hill to the top, to the entrance of the monument. This monument, like the Scott Monument, had a winding staircase to the top. Luckily for me, this staircase was much more open than the one in the Scott Monument, so I didn't freak out as much on the way up. There were three little chambers on the way up that served as little museums, to store the history related to William Wallace. Once you're at the top of the monument, you can get an incredible view for miles around. (If it's not really foggy. The day we were there, I felt like I was standing in a cloud).

After visiting the Wallace Monument, the rest of the afternoon was ours to do whatever we wanted. Everyone went to the University, so we could see it before we moved in. I was able to get the key to my room from the porter, even though I wasn't actually moving in until the next day. Since Mike and I are on the same floor, we went to see if we could figure out where our rooms were. I was surprised to find the hall  only one flight of stairs up from ground level. (I'm on the fourth floor, so it threw me off a bit!) I found the kitchen, and then Mike and I wandered back to the lobby. It gets a bit confusing in the halls, and there're fire doors everywhere. I think from entering the building to getting to my room, I go through six doors, and some of them are right next to each other. If there is a fire, I'm not too concerned about it ever reaching me, because I think I live in the most fireproof building of all time. Oh, and all the walls are cinderblocks too, so they won't burn easily.

About half of the FYSAE and study abroad student on top of the Wallace Monument. 

That was my last night staying with Jane. By now, it was practically ritual. Alana and I got home, Jane answered the door and said that she'd go ahead and put dinner on. We'd watch television and Jane would tell us about what things were like when she was growing up. We ate dinner, and then watched the BBC soaps and late night television shows until we decided to go to bed. Thinking about it now, I think it's funny that I was nervous about the home stay at first, and by the end of it, it was almost like staying at my own grandmother's house.

After that, I was headed to University! And I'll be back to write about that soon. A tout a l'heure!

Cooking and climbing.

Edinburgh Castle, as seen from the top of the Scott Memorial. The views were absolutely incredible. 

After a much-needed twelve-hour block of sleeping like a baby, it was back to orientation in the morning. The second day in Edinburgh didn't get very exciting until after the full morning of orientation. The orientation leaders, Anna and Hamish, gave us a scavenger hunt to do in the afternoon before we had to be back at Jury's Inn to head off to a cooking class. I ended up with the same group of people I had gone out exploring Edinburgh with the day before. We started with lunch--I think all of us were starving! I got my first order of fish and chips...and if you, like me, thought 'chips' were essentially french fries, let me tell you, they're not really anything alike. After lunch, my friends got their phones. I didn't get mine, since I'd forgotten to pack my debit card. When everyone else headed to the castle, I decided to just wander through Edinburgh on my own for an hour or so. I'd left my Historic Scotland pass in my hotel room, so it would have cost me over ten pounds to see the castle. Instead, I bought postcards and international stamps, and wandered around downtown until it was time to head back to the hotel for the rest of the day's orientation.

This is where things got interesting for me. The rest of our orientation for the night was to go to a nearby cooking school and learn how to make several Scottish dishes. I was very worried about it because I'm normally not good at all at cooking. I was afraid that I'd mess up whatever we were making, and I really just wanted to cook something successfully for once. We got to the cooking school and one of the chefs explained everything we needed to know to cook everything and then we split into pairs to start cooking. It realized pretty quickly that I didn't have anything to worry about. The chef, who was also named Michelle, explained all the recipes to us step by step, and if anyone started to have trouble with it, she would help them get it right.

By the end of the cooking lesson, we had made shortbread, an apple crumb mix, a smoked salmon tart, bean dip and cheese scones. Everything turned out really well, I was so happy that I didn't burn anything. I only made one small mistake, and that didn't even affect the outcome of the dish. A successful cooking attempt for me!! We got to take everything we made back to the hotel for dinner. I wasn't a big fan of the smoked salmon tart, but everything else was absolutely amazing! I think I might just be able to cook for myself this semester. :)

The Scott Memorial!

The next day was also pretty exciting. This would be my third day in Scotland now, so I'm still getting used to the time difference at this point. It's my last day in Edinburgh, and since I found out that the Scott Memorial has steps inside that you can climb all the way to the top, I really wanted to go up before it was time to leave. Five of us set out from the hotel to go climb to the top of the Scott Memorial.

Pretty soon into the stairwell, I realized that I was not going to enjoy being in the stairs. I am not a fan of tight spaces, and the spiral stairs were incredibly tight. When I got to the first tier, I was thrilled to be out of the stairwell into open air. Even from the first tier, the view was incredible! I could see so much of Edinburgh from high up in the air. It was incredible! I knew that if I went higher up, there would be even more amazing views. I really didn't want to go back into the stairwell, but I figured the views from the top would be well worth it. By the time I got to the second and middle tier, I was practically hyperventilating. It felt like the walls of the stairwell were barely wider than my shoulders and it was seriously freaking me out. By this point, I just wanted to get to the top. I sucked it up and pressed straight from the second tier back to the stairwell.

I don't think this does justice
to how much the stairs freaked
me out. They're so cramped!

I almost lost it at the last few steps. As if I didn't find the stairwell frighteningly small to begin with, on the last handful of steps, the walls literally leaned in towards each other. Thankfully, it was only about ten steps where I felt sure I'd get stuck, and then I was out in the open air, probably at least a hundred feet above the city. As I'd hoped, the views were absolutely incredible. I can't even find the right words to describe it. Imagine being over a hundred feet above the rest of the city, able to see for miles (it's a beautiful, clear day), and able to see a full 360 degrees. It's absolutely breathtaking.

Well, that's it for my adventures in Edinburgh. I'll return soon with stories from Stirling! A tout a l'heure!

Finally, moved in and connected to the internet!

The Balmoral Hotel is the building on the top left, just above the bridge. As a huge Harry Potter fan, I was beyond excited to see it! If only I could visit the room where J. K. Rowling wrote Deathly Hallows...

Well, I meant to use this as a way to keep family and friends back home up to date on my adventures here in Scotland. But between exploring Edinburgh and Stirling, and staying with a wonderful host who had only broadband internet, I haven't been able to stay true to that thus far. Luckily, I've now settled into my room at Stirling University, so from now on I should have no trouble at all in updating this fairly regularly.

The view of Princes Street from atop
Calton Hill...the clock tower is part of the
Balmoral Hotel.

With that said, I think it's time to actually use the blog for its intended purpose, and share my stories of Scotland thus far. The flight all the FYSAE students were on (plus a handful of students from other universities who are studying at Stirling through Arcadia) landed in Edinburgh early on Monday morning. We landed around seven in the morning. Since it's so much further north than Pennsylvania, the days here are even shorter, so it didn't start to get light until around nine. One of the Arcadia employees stationed in Edinburgh met us at the airport and took us by bus to the city, where we checked into Jury's Inn, our hotel for the next few days.

I was so excited to be in Scotland--everything seemed even more exciting, more enthralling than it normally would. I was half-exhausted, since I didn't sleep at all on the flight over, but just being in Edinburgh and knowing that there was so much to see and do was enough to give me a kind of rush. I wanted nothing more than to race through the city and take in as much as I could. A group of friends and I decided to go out into Edinburgh. There were things we wanted to see--we didn't know what, we just wanted to explore and see as much as possible.

We decided just to head out from the hotel and see where we went from there. I was especially excited to find out that our hotel was just across the bridge from the Balmoral Hotel, which is where J. K. Rowling finished writing the last Harry Potter book. We ended up going to an old cemetery on the way up to Calton Hill, which had these great old buildings and monuments. There's a structure that looks like the ruins of the Parthenon in Greece. Edinburgh is called "The Athens of Scotland" for this reason. Pretty much every spot on Calton Hill offered an absolutely amazing view of Edinburgh.

After exploring Calton Hill, we headed back down the hill to Princes Street, the main street through Edinburgh. We checked out some of the shops; I found a place to exchange my money; finally, we decided it was about time to find something for lunch. At this point, the group split. No one could agree on the best way to find a good restaurant, so finally three of us said we were just going to walk up the nearest street and stop wherever looked good. We ended up eating at a small cafe-style restaurant called Pret A Mange. I really liked it--its got healthy, organic foods and drinks, and they put a huge emphasis on recycling and cutting down on waste however possible. I just got a sandwich and a little smoothie, but I was quite impressed!

I think one of my favorite parts of the day had to be the bagpipe player. The whole time we were up on top Calton Hill, we could hear bagpipes playing in the distance. We joked about hearing bagpipes playing constantly in Scotland. I wondered if maybe some people in Scotland play bagpipes for money the way you'll see people in New York City playing guitars, with their cases left propped open in hopes of earning some cash. Sure enough, when we made it to the center of town, we found a man playing the bagpipes, with a case propped open in front of him! It was very entertaining, and it really did make my day.

After lunch, the excitement of being in Scotland started to give way to jet lag. I could not stop yawning, and I really just wanted to get back to the hotel and take a nap before the orientation for that day started. I got back to the hotel around one that afternoon and pretty much immediately fell asleep. I could've slept for hours, but the front desk called the room. Both me and my roommate had fallen asleep, and my alarm was accidentally left on silent, so it wasn't very effective in waking me up. We didn't have much orientation that night--and honestly, I was so sleepy, I don't even remember it well at all! I had to talk myself into eating dinner because I wanted nothing more than to sleep for a good twelve hours. I felt so dead!

I think I'll stop here, because this is already quite the lengthy post, and also because I'm getting pretty tired, so if I keep writing, it'll get progressively harder for the alert mind to understand. A tout a l'heure!