Edinburgh

Hello all!

Let’s talk about the exciting things I’ve been doing, like:

1. Walking past St. Mungo’s Ward in the Royal Infirmary while registering for the doctor,and getting excited because Neville’s parents are nearby.
2. Learning that St. Mungo is the patron saint of Glasgow. I see what you did there, JK Rowling.
3. Going to Edinburgh Castle, the castle that inspired Hogwarts!
4. Looking out at Edinburgh Castle (however briefly, because the back room was full and I had to leave) from The Elephant House, the alleged “Birthplace of Harry Potter,” where JK Rowling wrote a lot of her early Harry Potter work.
5. Having a feeling of “coming home” when returning to Glasgow.

But don’t worry! Not everything had to do with Harry Potter. I’m just a huge nerd and had to get that out of my system. That’s not nearly all of the exciting things that have happened. I’ve been having such a fantastic time just being here that I hardly know when to update and I’m not sure what to talk about. But I’ll churn out an update for you all anyway. (Actually, mostly for my benefit because I want to read this when I’m missing Scotland.)

This weekend I visited Edinburgh with two of my friends and made enemies of my feet and calves. I’ve never lived anywhere as hilly as Scotland. Walking around campus here in Glasgow can be a workout, and that was nothing compared to traipsing my way up the hill to the Edinburgh Castle, down the Royal Mile, out to the National Museum of Scotland (and The Elephant House) and back to the bus station. Entirely worth it, but I was aching, to say the least. We were lucky to have the sun shining on us the Sunday of our trip, especially after the dreary weather that decided to hang around Glasgow on Saturday. Of course, had the weather taken a nasty turn and my umbrella gone missing, the bus station had vending machine umbrellas for a pound. I think that is so odd… and so, so fitting. We checked the map in the station after arriving in Glasgow, and wandered out trying to get our bearings. We’re not the best at it, but travel can be a lot of fun when you don’t know where you’re going. Luckily, our first stop, Edinburgh Castle, is visible from most places, so it was easy to tell if we were going in the right direction. Not as easy to find where to start climbing, but as with the weather, we had luck on our side, and it didn’t take us long to wander off into a pretty park that led directly to the start of the path to castle.

“Awestruck” is probably an understatement to how I felt when I reached the castle, and “breathtaking” can’t really describe the view, since I didn’t have any left after the climb. Let’s just say that the castle was something I’d never seen before and it was absolutely wonderful in my eyes. (I mean, three-fourths of what I enjoy reading has castles in it, and I got to actually set foot in a real one. Can we talk about fangirl?) Check out the Photos tab at the top of the page for pictures of the trip! And if you have me added on facebook, the pictures have commentary.

From the castle, we walked down the Royal Mile, the longer-than-an-actual-mile stretch of road that connects the Scottish Parliament and Edinburgh Castle. To be honest, I didn’t find it to be particularly interesting. Visiting it in August when the Fringe Festival is going on, I think, would be amazing, but this time of the year, it’s one “Real Scottish Experience” tourist-trap store after another. Although I did run into good ol’ Robert Fergusson on the stretch. (I’m sorry, Robert Fergusson, but I can’t understand anything you write without reading it ten times–and don’t blame on the Scots vernacular, because I can read Robert Burns just fine. Although it’s quite funny once I figure it out.) Scottish Parliament was an odd building.

The next stop was The Elephant House. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember what street it was on, just that it was near the National Museum of Scotland and the street Potterrow (again, I see what you did there!), so we went in that general direction with no real plan on what to do after that. And my silly guidebook map did not have the common sense to show when one street was above another versus when they intersected. So, we ended up walking to Nicholson Street and standing underneath it before moving on to the next street with the intention of backtracking. The next street sloped up, so we headed up yet another hill in search of JK’s hangout. At the top, we did a lot of pointing around and going “I think the museum is in that direction?” and “No, hold the map the other way!” and “This is a stupid guidebook!” until Anna pointed out that we were literally standing right in front of The Elephant House. Literally. See, I told you we had luck on our side. We packed in and grabbed some tea, then respectfully left when we finished to open up our seats. Turns out the National Museum of Scotland was right nearby, so we spent the next couple of hours resting our poor feet and wandering around amid the artifacts and artwork before making the trip back to the bus station.

The strangest part? Seeing all the familiar buildings flash by in the bus windows after arriving in Glasgow and feeling like I was back home after a long trip. Because, well, I was, and I know Glasgow is my “home” for the time being, I just hadn’t realized that it felt that way. After two weeks. And I’ve hardly even been anywhere… I need to see more of Glasgow!

The next post may be a “getting used to living here” post, because I’d like to do one of those, but I am going to Stirling on Saturday, and I will probably be more excited to talk about that.

That’s all, folks! Until the next time.

Arriving in Glasgow

Okay, so I’ve been here for a day and I think it’s probably about time to give you all an update.

First, my apologies for being too busy to take any pictures. I managed to snap a shot of a blue police box that unfortunately was not bigger on the inside as I struggled up Cathedral Street with groceries for my new flat, but I’ve been on the go the rest of the time.

I spent the last night in the United States worrying that something would go wrong and clinging to my last moments with the people I now will not see for five months. I packed up in the morning, double checked my documents, headed out, arrived two hours early, and was told, “Your flight may be delayed five or ten minutes,” which calmed my fears a bit. I left my family and my boyfriend at the security checkpoint (trying–and failing–not to cry as I did so) and headed off by myself to the gate. Okay, so far, so good. Then there were whispers about a delay, and I looked up at the screen to see a forty minute delay. Annoying, but I have a five hour layover; I was prepared for this. More waiting, reading The Fault in Our Stars–then more whispers. “Looks like the flight has been cancelled!”

My thoughts: WHAT. I AM NOT PREPARED TO DEAL WITH THIS. WHAT IF I DON’T MAKE IT TO GLASGOW? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?!?!?! WILL I HAVE TO BUY ANOTHER TICKET? I CANNOT BE ON MY OWN. Oh look, there’s a line forming, better join them. DON’T PANIC.

Well, luckily, my thoughts were ridiculously dramatic. The girl in front of me, heading to school herself, calmed me down and let me borrow her phone. A short wait in line and a talk with one of the workers got me rerouted through Dallas instead of Chicago, and I was back to my seat to wait for that flight to arrive two hours later. I was on my way.

From there it was pretty smooth sailing. I slept on my way to London and finished The Fault in Our Stars (thanks for making me cry next to the grumpy guy in the aisle seat, John Green) and the eight hours went pretty quickly. Of course, I couldn’t stop myself from looking out the window and thinking “THAT’S IRELAND!” or “OH MY GOD THAT MUST BE WALES!” so of course the end of the flight was an awful daze of nausea, but at least I was excited. When I arrived, I was determined to know where I was going, even if I didn’t really. I at least looked like I wasn’t clueless, although my panic at the airport bus driving on the wrong (but really, the right–well, left, but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, OKAY) side of the road probably gave me away. Getting in the United Kingdom was so much easier than I had expected it to be, and before I knew it, there I was in Terminal 5 of Heathrow. Gucci, Prada, and Chanel all in a row, and even I was impressed. I had lunch in the airport and wandered around taking it all in as I waited for my next flight. Everything that was even slightly different was exciting. I’m allowed to be tourist-y for awhile, right?

I met up with another girl from my home school studying abroad at the University of Strathclyde while we were at Heathrow. We were supposed to meet in O’Hare, but you know how that went. I am kind of glad it happened the way it did though. It made me realize that things are not as big of a deal as I expect them to be, so I didn’t worry as much for the rest of my trip. AND I can say that I made it all the way to another country BY MYSELF. It’s small but it makes a big difference in my confidence here. The flight to Glasgow was quick and I had the whole row to myself (!). No problems with my bags, and then the issue was just getting to the Village Office and checking in! We climbed in a taxi and struggled to understand the driver’s accent (people say you’ll have difficulty understanding the accent and when you’re back home you don’t believe them, but it’s so true) and soon we were checking into our flats.

The first day? That’s an adventure I’m too worn out from to write about just yet.