A Furry Cow, Discovering Nessie and the Highlands

Saturday morning found me sitting on the steps at the corner of Inverleith Terrace and Inverleith Row at 7:15am. It was a warmer morning, and a bright sunrise was lighting up the top levels of the buildings around me but I still wore my hiking boots, hat and rain coat having learned my lesson the day before. I was tearing into a cheese roll and keeping an eye on the top of the hill at Inverleith Row.

The night before, I was so tired after Iain's talk that I had forgotten to eat dinner, and with only my leftover toast and cheese from breakfast for lunch I woke up Saturday feeling weak, shaky and exhausted. I don't suggest skipping meals, especially if your body is under extra stress from travel or prolonged exercise. With the whole hotel still sleeping at 6:45 I went up the street to the grocery store, waited for them to open at 7:00 and bought enough food to get me through the morning. I was back at the Inverleith at 7:15 waiting for my ride.

At 7:25 on the nose a bus with huge side mirrors that make it look like a caterpillar came around the corner. The driver waved at me and I ran across the street and climbed in.

This was my highland tour bus. I was a little hesitant about doing the most touristy thing possible, taking a bus tour with 46 other tourists, but it was the only way I could get to the highlands this trip. I didn't have the knowledge, time, experience or money to do it on my own, and even if I did I would probably have to stay in the cities where the train and bus stops are. Tour bus was, like it or not the best and most cost efficient way to get to see the highlands.

I was the first one on the bus so I got prime seat-picking rights. I chose the very first aisle seat, with a view through the windshield and ability to stretch my knees into the aisle if needed. Jerry, the driver took me all over central Edinburgh picking up other passengers. The next group on after me were three chattering Spanish ladies. Jerry asked if one of them would sit next to me to make sure all the groups would be able to sit more or less together. The lady sitting next to me spoke barely any English and didn't seem to understand why I wanted to sit on the aisle. But in very broken Spanish I told her I have bad knees and need to be able to stretch them. She was so grateful I had even made an effort to communicate with her she was very nice to me the whole trip. We conversed a little through the day in my minimal Spanish and her minimal English. With both we managed to get our points across.

We were on the road by a little after 8:00 and Jerry did a very good job telling us about major points we were passing by. First was Stirling Castle, and the monument to William Wallace, the great hero and star of Braveheart. Jerry related the story and let's just say Mel Gibson got off easy compared to what actually happened to the guy :(

Pretty soon we got off the freeway and onto narrow twisty highways. The city fell away behind us and soon we were surrounded by pastureland. We entered some of the most fertile land in Scotland with some of the loveliest pastoral scenery. Our first stop was basically a rest stop with a shop and coffee shop. I bought a mocha and followed everyone over to the magnificent highland cows nearby.

Hamish is this stop's pride and joy, a highland bull with horns three feet wide. He has a lovely blonde furry coat and long emo bangs over his eyes. He and his two cows nearby were adorable and a little scary.

The scenery became more dramatic the further north we went. Soon the pastureland fell away and more brushy scrubland took over. The little hills grew into big hills and into extremely steep mountains. We learned that a Glen is the Gaellic word for "valley" and we passed through many Glens on the way north. Including Glencoe, the site of the famous massacre that I won't relate but you can easily Google if interested.

We went on to the lake country where we were constantly driving over or along lovely loch scenery. I don't have many pictures of it though because 1) they wouldn't do it justice and 2) they would be out the window of a tour bus and probably blurry. For the full effect you're just going to have to see it for yourself :)

We stopped for lunch and I got fish and chips with a bunch of older couples from Vancouver. Also, there was a guy on the tour who looked almost exactly like my dad and he really kept throwing me off seeing him out of the corner of my eye.

At 2:00 we pulled into St. Augustus, at the southern tip of Loch Ness. I decided to pay the extra 12 pounds to take the Loch cruise. The cruise itself wasn't a lot to write home about, I'm from western Washington, I've been on my fair share of lakes. But the crew and the captain in particular made it worth it. Assuming they are telling the truth they are all completely assured of Nessie's existence. They have all seen her a multitude of times in person and on their radar screens up all over the boat.
The captain told us how no one really swims in Loch Ness because of the very steep sides, out 20 feet you can be in 200 feet of water. Also, there are fish called Ferox that are not only fully cannibalistic, but they will also nibble on people if given half a chance and they are big. I think he said the biggest one he pulled out was seven feet long.
He said that he has proof including a video of her existence but knows of at least three remaining big game hunters/ poachers who would come out and try to hunt her. So he's not going to release his footage. He showed us a photo he took, that if it's real would be proof. I saw the back, spine and close details of the skin. But again, if it's real, and there is the rub.

just at the end of the tour I took this picture:

Proof? Totally.

Back at the bus we traveled the whole length of Loch Ness north to Inverness, the capital of the highlands where the Stone of Destiny used to be. At Inverness we turned south and started the long drive back home.

Up until this point that one stab of homesickness on Buchanan street had really been the worst of it. Mostly I had managed to be too busy, too tired or too sore to think much of anything. But on the bus back down, without a whole lot to look at that I hadn't seen before and without new and interesting facts from Jerry every ten minutes or so I was left with nothing to think of but home and how much I miss everyone already. And worse, just how long it'll be until I see them again. This adventure is just beginning but I'm tired and want to be with people I love. Also, I think I was the only single traveler on that bus. And answering the question:

"So who are you traveling with?"

"Oh, it's just me."

"Really? Surely you're not by yourself?"

"Yep. Just me."

Is getting a little old. It'll change once I'm in Croatia. I'll be part of a group again with friends and we will be a unit more or less for the next two months. But I'll have to be a grownup for the next day or so, getting from Edinburgh to Frankfurt and a 12 hour layover in Frankfurt then a flight to Zagreb and finding the hostel in downtown Zagreb. 

First day of school on Monday!

Things I have learned:

-Food in Scotland only seems to get expensive once someone else touches it. In Glasgow I bought three days worth of groceries for just under 20 pounds or about 30 bucks. So that's $30 for three days, $10/day at about $3/meal. Not bad. The same applied in Edinburgh.

-Wandering is more fun than pointed destinations if you have the option.

-Edinburgh is beautiful at night.

Climbing Edinburgh, Adventures in Scottish Weather, and Remembering Why I'm Here

Friday morning I ate the offered breakfast from my hotel and was amazed by how wonderful the service was for only six pounds. Firstly, breakfast is in the dining room, and it's a legitimate dining room, with a gilt mirror and white linens. There is a bar set up in the middle of the room with cereals and jam on multi-level tea trays and pitchers of milk and orange juice. Then if you get the continental breakfast they'll bring you a pot of tea, toast and a plate of cheese, oatcakes and fruit. And they even have all the proper cutlery.
I got very excited  about this. I had a solid and elegant start to the day that I wasn't expecting. I lingered over my second cup of tea and sketched the mirror frame for twenty minutes or so to settle myself and think about what I wanted to do that day.

Edinburgh has a lot of attractions and tours, it's much, MUCH more touristy than Glasgow. But because it is they have good systems in place for supporting travelers such as myself like the tourist info center that I got a map and very accurate directions from when I first arrived. I knew I wanted to check out the royal mile, and some of the museums along there, and maybe head down to Hollyrood Palace at the end of the street. Also when I arrived I saw some beautiful towers and Parthenon style buildings up on an eastern hill that I wanted to explore and maybe visit a few cathedrals.

I wrapped up my last couple pieces of toast, butter, and cheese from breakfast and put them in my purse. Then at the last minute grabbed my raincoat just in case, but the sun was shining and I wasn't worried.

I took the number 8 bus to Princes Street and headed across the North Bridge to where it meets High Street. Or, the Royal Mile.

The Royal Mile is the oldest street in Edinburgh, it connects Edinburgh Castle, the oldest structure in Edinburgh to the town that formed down below it, all the way to Hollyrood Palace at the bottom, where Mary, Queen of Scots lived for a portion of her life and it's also the Queen's residence when in Edinburgh.
TRM is one, very old, and has many cool narrow alleyways or "closes" jutting off at various angles. They create some intriguing and mysterious spaces.

All along the Royal mile are touristy Kilt and Cashmere shops. Every other shop has mannequins hanging out front with a kilt hanging off it. My beloved bagpipe music pumped out of almost every shop but usually bastardized with some kind of drum-machine beat or techno influence. Needless to say I didn't go into any of them, but just enjoyed the scenery. St Giles' Cathedral came up on my left and I figured I would swing by to take a look.

You'll notice that there is only a picture from the front and none of the interior. And that is because they charge a 2 pound photo taking fee! To take your own photos! Then it's a six pound suggested donation and another three pound suggested donation to go into the popular chapels. The cathedral's only saving grace was that it was very beautiful, and the chapels were stunning, unique and unlike any that I've ever been in but I left with a sour taste in my mouth from it. I understand that everyone has got to make a living, but being asked for money first thing when entering a church was just too much.

Continuing up the Royal Mile with a darkening sky looming above was Edinburgh Castle. The oldest structure in Edinburgh the great stone fortress set on the top of a steep hill, making it very easy to defend. Because it has been such a target for Edinburgh's enemies the castle really is a fortress, with high walls and cannon barrels looking down at passers by. I walked up the road to the entrance and found that to my surprise the entry cost was fifteen pounds, and if you want an audio guide it's an extra four pounds. That's about 30 bucks for those of you keeping track at home. 

Considering all the attractions I visted in Glasgow were free except for one public restroom that cost me 30 pennies this came as quite a shock. But I knew there were museums inside, plus I had heard rumors about the crowned jewels and a very old chapel and before I knew it I had handed over my 19 pounds, received my headset (because if I was going to pay this much to get into a place I at least wanted to understand what I was looking at gosh darnit) and was walking into the castle, wondering all the while if I had made the right choice. 

I was prepared for tourists being up there, as the tourist attraction in Edinburgh, every Scottish tour bus in the country stops and unloads people for a period of time at this edifice. But the weirdest thing to hear were the foreign accents, particularly American, my own. I had gotten so used to the soft rolling syllables of the Scots in Glasgow, extremely pleasing to the ear, I wasn't used to American accents and they sounded clipped, nasal and brash. 

Generally I don't have a problem with tourists, because hey, no matter what I try to tell myself, I am a tourist.   At the moment I'm more of a traveler but I don't have a sense of hierarchy with it. I'm not a local, I don't live here and trying to make people think I do would be as fruitful as painting myself yellow and telling them I'm a banana. I'm spending my time and energy to try to experience and understand the lives of a different culture in the extremely limited amount of time I have.

I'm not pushy, impatient, or irrationally angry at things I don't understand like a lot of American tourists are, but I am still a tourist. I made myself feel better by thinking I could blend into the normal Edinburgh crowd by trying to look as normal as possible and not like I was touring. I.E. no fanny pack, flag t-shirt (American or Scottish), giant swinging camera, or trying to pay with dollars. But there is no reason to be at Edinburgh Castle if you aren't a tourist. Especially when walking around wearing headphones attached to a little ipod like device, there is no way to look cool. But least the headphones doubled as earmuffs as the drizzle started to come down.

The views from up there were nice, though a little hard to see because the walls were crowded with people. I wandered around punching numbers from signs into my headset and received five minute lessons on the history of the castle and battlements, various monarchs and legends of the castle. I followed a tour group around for a bit for the sheer fun of their tour guide who was very into his role and knew more than my hand-held device did. 

I popped into the War Museum dissapointed to find most of the history and artefacts were post 1800 so it was all WWI and WW2 artwork and weapons, no Claymores and Clan history. Considering I'm not very interested in war anyway I walked through at a brisk pace and left the other side quickly. I enjoyed the Crown Jewels exhibit and the story behind the Royal Honors: the Crown, The Scepter and the Sword. Also the Stone of Destiny and it's colorful history as the seat of Scottish Royal Power. I visited the pet cemetery and the little chapel on the site, the oldest building in Edinburgh. And the biggest cannon I've ever seen. 

What do you get a king for a wedding gift? The biggest gun you can find apparently.

The sun had peaked out a few times, but by the time I dissapointedly left the castle it had begun to absolutely pour down rain. I'm realizing the places I'm enjoying the most on this trip are spaces that make me feel something. As a student of Experience Place (your experience in a place and it's effect on good design) the places that I value the most are the ones with unique or special elements that draw forth an emotion because of the spaces created, like the Necropolis or Eglinton Park. I felt like almost all of the experience of place had been smashed out of Edinburgh Castle because of it's long and noble history. All anyone could talk about were dead people, names, dates, events. The space seems to be special only because of what happened there and who lived there, not special on it's own.

It was teeming down rain outside, even with my trusty raincoat I was worried about getting soaked, especially my nice urban walking shoes. Eventually I had to duck into a close for about fifteen minutes to let the worst of it pass.

And that's kind of how it went all the way down the Royal Mile, walking until it started raining too hard then ducking in somewhere to wait it out. One such distraction was the Museum of Edinburgh. That chronicled the city's history along with artifacts to prove their point. The museum was nice, warm and had some good information but was mostly a lot of silver and pottery.

After the museum it was just a short jump to Hollyrood Palace, I saw they were selling tickets and didn't even bother going to look. I had just spent my day's worth of money on something pretty lackluster. But directly to the right of Hollyrood Palace was something that looked out of place. A giant hill, covered in yellow grass and scrubby bushes, followed by a sheer cliff, followed by a stunning high peak behind it. Momentary exploration found that it was Hollyrood Park, what was a designated hunting ground and was now a park in the middle of Edinburgh. The peak at the top was the dormant volcano of Arthur's Seat that formed Edinburgh, which I had heard of but had never seen.

Looking up at the mountain from the ground it seemed impossibly high. But I love hiking and this was probably going to be my only shot while in Scotland. With the sun starting to come out, no water, and wearing my cute urban ballet flat - style shoes I headed off up the trail. 

The noise of Edinburgh fell away quickly up in the hills with the wind blowing. It was a fairly steep climb and the land around the pathway fell away quickly forming wide bowls in the landscape with wind, blown grasses and thistle growing up out of it. 

At points the trail was steep and muddy and I almost slid back a few times. But the funniest part is that Arthur's Seat is apparently the favorite training ground for all of Edinburgh's cross country runners. Tall, impossibly skinny men kept passing me in their tiny little shorts and "Edinburgh Marathon 08'" t-shirts all the way up the mountain. While I on the other hand looked like this:

The higher up I got the stronger the wind became. The last scramble was on the not as windy side of the mountain and it was paved in very very old stones forming an ancient staircase. All I needed was an elf, a dwarf, an exiled prince an I would be set in my adventure.

The volcanic rock at the top is very smooth I went up the last few feet with my hands on the ground to make sure I didn't get blown off or slip. At last I reached the very top. The panoramic 360 degree views were breathtaking of the whole of Edinburgh and beyond. Completely worth the hour long hike. The wind battered against me in different directions so I just stayed up long enough to take in the view then went down to safer altitudes.

I was very proud of myself for reaching the top, after having paid an exorbitant amount a of money to do something I didn't really want to do but felt like I should; I had completed something for free that I probably shouldn't have done in my current state of dress or preparation but I did it because I wanted to. Reaching the top of Arthur's Seat in my flats and nicest pair of pants reminded me that I'm in charge of my experience here. Not everyone else who said I had to go to the castle, or I had to do X, Y and Z to have really seen Edinburgh and Scotland in general. Because even though everyone else is only trying to help they don't know what I want to do as much as I do. I saw Edinburgh in all it's glory up there and it was worth getting mud on my pants when I slipped on the way back down. Now whenever I see Arthur's Seat I can think 'I've been up there' and it will never be something I almost did.

Coming back down to the bottom with my renewed sense of competency I put away the map I had been following and returned to the technique that had served me so well in Glasgow. Following my nose and wandering. With maps so much more readily available in Edinburgh I had been strictly sticking to mine, keeping on track so I could see as much as possible in a short amount of time. But the map had stressed me out more than being lost had. So I put it away. 

By wandering I found myself climbing another hill north of Arthur's Seat and after climbing a winding road I found myself at the top of the other hill I had wanted to visit, which I learned was called Calton Park. The monuments at Calton Park are probably the most highly visible in the entire city. They rise up out of the wooded areas below giving them an ancient and guardian feel. 

I don't remember what this one was for exactly, but it's pretty!

The National Monument

After Calton Hill I was tired and dirty and took a bus back to my hotel. 

That evening I walked across the street to the Botanical Gardens to hear my professor Iain give a talk about a class he teaches at UW about creativity. I haven't taken the class but he uses a lot of the same formatting in his other courses that I have taken. I was honored to be invited and loved getting to meet his family.

At 9:00 I walked back to the Inverleith Hotel and fell asleep before even getting fully undressed. 

Visiting Hogwarts, Emoting to A Piper and Fusion Haggis

I have just three more days left in Scotland, and I'm starting to have to make some tough choices about what I can and can't do in my last few days. For example I was going to try to go to Rowallan Castle, the ancestral home of the Moore family (maternal grandfather's side), but decided not to so I could save a little bit of money and time and also get to Edinburgh before dark on Thursday.

Wednesday got started off as all my mornings here have so far - by getting up before 5:30. I re-packed my bag, made sure I had all my chargers and that the bunny hadn't eaten any important documents. Then ate as much of my grocery food as I could for breakfast (not wanting to pack it with me later) and left with Markee at about 9:00.

Markee works at the University of Glasgow in one of the bookshops in one of the newer buildings. From a distance I could see the tower spire in true Gothic style and as we got closer, more and more of the campus was revealed. The main plaza is two lawns surrounded by the main building, connected by a colonnade between them.

The architecture was lovely, and looking the part by default, I let myself into several of the buildings to poke around.  Students had to navigate around me on the stairwells while I stopped to take pictures out stained glass windows. I'm glad I don't go to school there, I would never get anything done. Markee said it was difficult for her trying to take a final in a room that looked like the Great Hall from Harry Potter. Very distracting!

I hadn't slept well the night before and found my usual stores of energy waning before even midday. I was tired but worried about missing something like this:

The University of Glasgow is home to the Hunterian Museum. Most of the exhibits are the collection of a physician/ anatomist from Glasgow who had a lot of money and connections because his collection was extremely extensive. And if it was collected today in a private residence, probably would be illegal.  

There were specimens in there ranging from extremely rare minerals and fossils to entire dinosaur skeletons, to stuffed endangered/extinct animals, and to top it all off, a mummy, sarcophagus included. The top floor also had some instruments from Lord Kelvin's lab, but also some pickled body parts that made me a bit queasy. 

That's a dinosaur in the middle there.

I left the University around 11:30, and took the shortcut Markee had showed me to the Botanical Gardens. They were pretty standard gardens, though extensive in their climate areas. And it was nice to be somewhere that felt like the tropics for a little while.

Back at the apartment I finished packing my things, did my dishes and tidied up the room I had been sleeping in, then wandered around for a little while unsure of my next move. I realized I was stalling when I caught myself trying to perfectly fold my unused sheets and pillowcase. I was excited to go to Edinburgh for sure, and I had really seen Glasgow, as much as you can in three days. But I didn't want to leave this place where Markee and Carrie had made me feel so at home. I had people there who did care about me, someone I could call if there was an emergency and was a wealth of knowledge should I have any questions about where to shop, eat or what neighborhoods to avoid. Also, a cat that truthfully loved me only on the condition that I let her sleep on my chest. Leaving Glasgow meant I was really on my own.

After a short pep talk that I'll spare you the details of I petted the cats goodbye and left the flat for Queen Street Station. 

I emerged from the subway with a crowd of busy Glaswegians and was walking toward the train station when a high pitched tune wafted over cacophony of traffic to my ears. I stopped dead, causing a woman in a suit run into my giant turtle backpack. I turned around, and headed in the other direction without a second thought, following the sound.

Believe me, I have been made fun of for this and yes I guess it's weird or whatever. Naysayers think it's because I want to be "real" Scottish so badly I'll hang onto any cliche I can and even attempt to make myself love the unlovable but listen to me when I say this because I am very serious right now.

I. LOVE. BAGPIPES.

I just do. I like the big marching bands with their pomp and circumstance, I like the lone piper playing long, sad melodies, but in particular I like the smaller bands, with several drums pushing a quick rhythm and a piper adding melody-and that's what I was hearing coming from Buchanan street.

Sorry it's shaky. I kept getting run into.

These guys made awesome music, and besides that they look freaking cool! I stood and listened to them for a few minutes or as long as my bag would allow me to. And to my surprise as well I'm sure to the people around me I started getting misty eyed. I was thinking about my family going to the Highland Games every year and how we always go to the massing of the bands and I get upset every year when they release a hundred balloons at the end of it. And then mom calms me down by reminding me that they are bio-degradable and dad just smiles away but always gets too hot in his kilt and wool socks. Dad and I eat Cornish Pies from a stand and then we all go watch the games together. 

There, surrounded by masses of shopping Glaswegians, laden down by fifty pounds of gear and running on about five hours of sleep I had my first real pang of homesickness and yes friends - I did start crying in the middle of Buchanan street. 

I didn't want to just sit down to get tissues out of my bag, and also I was (unsuccessfully) trying to pretend I wasn't crying in pubic. It was only when I remembered my friends April and Peter's voices from a conversation we had a few weeks ago that was I able to compose myself. 

"Have you ever just started crying on the bus?"

"Yes!"

"But not like, serene, eye dabbing crying. But full face, mascara running, bawling in a public place with people awkwardly looking away because they are on a bus and can't escape."

"Ugly crying, yep, I've done it."

"No shame girl, no shame, you gotta cry? Just cry."

"Preach."

Remembering this exchange made me laugh, so then I was the crazy laughing/crying/giant backpack girl taking up too much room on Buchanan street while the musicians played away. I wiped my eyes, abandoning all pretense that I hadn't been sobbing, stopped crying and headed for the train station.

Waverly Train Station in Edinburgh is the biggest mess I have ever had the misfortune to travel into. With the multiple levels, constant construction and re-routes it took me over ten minutes just to find the escalator out of the dang place. But on the other side of the escalator Edinburgh was waiting. 

The city is similar to Glasgow in that it's mostly made the same light brown/yellow stone with some turning grey or black. But here I guess the buildings are washed more often, or the constant wind blows away pollution because the buildings, though worn look very clean. The train station opens up to the dramatic scene that is Princes street. As far as I can tell Edinburgh doesn't have a subway so all the public transportation is caught up in double-decker buses and it seems like all of them go down Princes street. Edinburgh is hillier than Glasgow, so various important sites seem to rise out of the city with an exclamation point on top. Like the Castle and Calton hill. Because off the terrain one can stand in one spot and see multiple levels and layers of the city at once and that texture is very beautiful.

Edinburgh feels bigger than Glasgow, I think maybe because you can see more of it at once because of the hills and also because it's built on a bigger scale. Almost every building is at least three stories high and they are row style so the streets feel like they go on forever. 

I stopped at a visitor info booth, grabbed a map, directions and after two wrong stops found the right bus to my hotel.

My hotel is lovely. Small, and simple, my room is about the size of a large walk-in closet, but really, that's all I need. It's less space to lose stuff in and completely comfortable for one person. Even having a visitor would be a little crampt, but for one- it's perfect.

I bussed out to meet a professor of mine and his family for dinner at a close-by village. We went to a very nice little restaurant with all kinds of delicious looking things on the menu. But I saw haggis, and hey. I'm in Scotland. 

It came as part of my appetizer and to be honest it wasn't exactly traditional haggis. It was a haggis....spring roll. All the ingredients of traditional haggis were there but in a delicious crunchy pastry. And it was very, very good, the meat inside was flavorful and creamy textured, not what I was expecting but I went with it. And yes, it does count as real haggis, I asked all the Scots at the table before I ordered and they agreed. 

That one is checked off the bucket list.

Kilwinning, The Earls of Eglinton and Getting to My Roots

Today I visited the town and what was historically the estate of the Montgomery family, one of the branches of my own family tree. It was the main reason I wanted to come to Scotland while I had the chance; to try to make connections to places where my family had come from.

This morning I got up early and actually got to watch the sun come up! By the time I left the flat the clouds were burning off and a beautiful sunny day was gaining momentum. Because of the city's efficient public transportation I was on a train to Kilwinning, a small town about a half hour outside of Glasgow by 9:00.
The train ride was uneventful and I enjoyed watching the scenery go by, most of what I could see from the train was a mix of pasture and scrub/woodland. I liked seeing the white dots that are sheep run around in the distance under the shadows of small clouds.

Soon the train pulled into the station and when I stepped off I was struck by the quiet. After the noise of Seattle, to airplanes, airports, stations and then the extraordinary bustle of Glasgow, the silence of a sleepy little town beginning to wake up for the day was astounding. The sun was up and slanted in the sky reflecting off puddles and still wet leaves on plants and flower boxes on windowsills and hanging from streetlights.

I walked into the town, enjoying the village atmosphere. Little buildings with twisted alleys, cobblestone streets, people greeting each other in front of the cafe and everyone commented on the bright sunshine. With a light breeze cleaning out my lungs and the sun on my face I was extremely content.

On the main medieval street I followed my nose to a butcher shop with fresh baked pastries in the window. I went in and bought a Scot's Pie for 80p or about a buck. I figure it's about the Scottish equivalent of Hung Bao, delicious, cheap food and don't question the ingredients too much. It may have been the most delicious thing I've eaten here so far.

Off the medieval street, a gateway with a cobblestone path caught my attention and I immidiately hung a left into it. I was in Kilwinning Abbey, or the ruin of it. Only bits and pieces of the original abbey built in the 12th century still remain. One full transept wall is the most dramatic piece on the site, below it are the remains of arched doorways and walls of smaller rooms once inhabited by Tironesian Monks.

I read online somewhere that the Montgomeries also have a crypt here but the new church was locked.

Fellow Fable 2 nerds, is this or is this not the ruin in West Cliff where the Balvarines attack from?

After thoroughly exploring the ruin I caught the bus to Eglinton with the help of a teenage girl getting on the same bus. Generally when people hear my accent the conversation goes something like this.

"So you're from America then?"
"Yep."
"Whereabouts?"
"Seattle, I go to the University of Washington."
"Oh that's nice, just here on holiday?."
"Yes, I'm studying abroad this quarter but I wanted to come here first."

Then we talk about travel, the weather, or Croatia.

But this next part of the conversation with this girl I didn't expect.

"I would love to go to America."
"It's a nice place, definitely check out the west coast."
"...You said you're from Seattle right?"
"Yep,"
"Wasn't Twilight filmed there?" (She got a little starry eyed  here. Her hope was palatable)
"....nearby, yes."
"Cool.....did you ever meet any of the cast?"
".....No...."
"Oh, well, that's too bad." And she went back to her magazine.

Yes friends, western Washington is no longer known across the world as the home of the  Space Needle, flying fish at Pike's Place, or some of the best oudoor recreation in the world. We're known for sparkly vampires and Kirsten Stewart. Feel free to vomit repeatedly.

Putting that little conversation out of my mind I got off the bus at Eglinton Country park about a mile and a half down the road from Kilwinning. Mostly I was grateful that it really exists as no one in Glasgow has ever heard of it and also, a couple people in Kilwinning hadn't heard of it either. The bus driver pointed me down a trail off the road alongside a horse pasture and said it was that way.

In order to keep from rambling on about how beautiful the park is I'll just cut to the main points. It's beautiful. The park has a strong ecology focus and has been awarded several awards for habitat restoration. It's very easy to get lost and I did a few times but every time I did I discovered something unique and beautiful.

I wandered through on a rare warm and sunny day. Walking through the park's miles of trails I passed through forest, lake, grassland, pasture and dense swamp, I rounded a corner and surprised a herd of cows waiting at a gate, shuffling and snorting softly at the new intruder.

Eglinton Castle was the home of the Montgomeries and the Earls of Eglinton for about 500 years. The castle is now a ruin but was a functioning home as recently as 1925 when it was sold for about $50,000...what I wouldn't give for a time machine and $50,000.

I spent a lot of time at the ruin where the castle had been, a lot of the foundations are still there and I could almost make out a floor plan. The stairs and a few walls with windows are still standing. Along with a tower with about fifty feet of it still standing. I climbed to the top and was rewarded with a 360 degree view of the park/

but for me the crowning glory was this:

The Montgomery Crest on the wall of the ruin, the same one I wear around my neck almost every day. The Crest is of a woman with the head of a barbarian in one hand and either an anchor or a sword in the other with "Guard Well" in Latin above. You can interpret your own meaning...

It was an emotional moment when I discovered this. Seeing her created a tie I hadn't felt before. Here I was, a prodigal daughter, and worse, an American, a hundred years after the last Montgomery left; on a pilgrimage to find her roots. Looking up into the face of the guardian who watched over us for 500 years.

It's not often that I've experienced that kind of age and history. This place feels solid, and though the land has been extremely manipulated by everything from bombs to industry to the slow collapse of time, here she was, set where she had always been set, keeping a watchful eye, guarding the keep and silently displaying the message.

You do not fuck with the Montgomery women.

A Long Walk, Slight Morbidity and Loving the City of The Dead.

I wanted to use Tuesday to do some exploring just in Glasgow. Just in case jetlag attacked I wanted to be close to a bed. I dressed very warmly having learned my lesson on Monday; out in the relentless drizzle, I was grateful for all of it. 

First I headed north and east to the Clyde river and crossed on a twisting bridge over to the city center again. The architecture in that area of town really is fantastic, and there are many streets that are pedestrian only, usually they are main shopping streets like Argyle. I went into Central Station to have a look around. 

There is something about big, old train stations that is very romantic. Maybe it's all those old movies but they really have a presence. 

I bought a croissant and possibly the world's worst cup of coffee in the station wandering around looking at trains, travelers and shops. I'm trying to be careful with how much I spend especially on food. I'm not addicted to trinkets or clothing or shoes, but I will eat my way into the poorhouse with things like coffee and pastry (so I got the cheapest one to make it ok :)

With a warmer belly I went out into the rain again, this time closer to the river and found myself at St. Andrew's cathedral. It is a beautiful little church that has been very well maintained. Attached to the side is a brick courtyard with modern art pieces and a fountain.

"Love casts out fear" Most of the inscriptions were water related  to tie back to the fountain.

I really enjoyed exploring churches when I was in Europe last time and I still do. I think it's because they are still places. Nothing moves quickly or makes loud noises unless there is a service going on. Everyone is welcome and people will usually leave you alone. You can sit and think and enjoy the architecture to your heart's content. And when it's raining it's nice to go somewhere warm to dry off and wait out the heavier weather. Most of all I like them because nothing is expected of you other than you be quiet and respectful.

 I get frustrated with how people have to legitimize their presence in most places by buying something, and malls that barely have anywhere to rest because they want them up and spending money, and severe lack of public restrooms because of the bad things that can happen in them. In a church or cathedral you're just another soul and you will never be denied a bathroom if you need one.

After a few warm, meditative moments at St. Andrews I continued out, up and around, wandering my way through the older part of town. I've noticed there are a ton of pet shops around. Fish stores too that sell "designer" aquariums. Some are reptile or bird specific, and others are more general, but the point is, they are everywhere and who knows why. 

I saw a collection of trees in the distance and followed them down to the "Glasgow Green" A very large triangular park by the river, Most of it is wide expanses of  lawn with ornamental shrubs and trees lining the walkways. One such way lead to a very tall brick obelisk but it started raining hard again and the wind picked up so I scurried along to what looked like a large greenhouse on the other side.

The Greenhouse is called the "Winter Garden" and it's attached to a museum called "The People's Palace." Admission was free so of course I took a look around. 

I loved the gardens but unfortunately I didn't like the museum at all. It was a museum of social history and I wasn't prepared for how tough Glasgow's social history is. It's an industrial town and has held onto that identity over centuries. There were exhibits on overcrowding and inhumane conditions in turn of the century tenement houses. How women and children were beaten but just dealt with it as part of the social culture. The extremes between the super rich merchants in the Victorian era with their slaves vs. the extremely poor industrial worker. But what got me is there was an entire section devoted to the death penalty in Glasgow, the prison system and what you could and could not be hanged for pre-1964 when the penalty was abolished. Plus baby clothes for infants whose mothers were in prison and had given birth there. It rubbed me the wrong way.

Leaving the museum in a hurry, i consulted a map and walked north about a half a mile in the direction of the Cathedral, stopping in at another little church along the way. As I rounded the corner I fount myself in a section of the city I had written off after seeing it on the map. The Necropolis. "I've seen graveyards before." I told myself and prepared to walk right by to the cathedral but I was stopped in my tracks. 

The Necropolis is a very large hill connected to the Cathedral by a stone bridge. And now as I'm writing about it I'm having a hard time thinking of how to describe it and why I loved it so much. The place has the same kind of feel as a church, that sense of quiet and rest. There aren't just headstones, but huge monuments, the higher up the hill you get the bigger they are. I started at the bottom, in love with how not perfectly manicured it is, ivy cascades over the stones that are set into the walls and the stones themselves are extremely beautiful. Many are cracked, some have fallen over or are missing pieces and no one has brought in a tractor to lift them up again. It's just part of the entropy of the place. Monuments are erected, they sometimes fall down, words get washed away over time until eventually the stone is just a flat spot on the ground. 

Also, it's brilliant in terms of aesthetic landscape design. It successfully uses at least three techniques for good design and I'm going to geek out about them for a minute so just bear with me. 

The landscape is not just a flat field or hill that you can see everything from one spot. In order to discover everything the Necropolis has to offer you have to climb around it to the top. Also, the headstones are all different, no two are alike so it's impossible to get bored with what you're looking at.

Another advantage of the hill is the sense of looming that the crypts give. Everything isn't on one plane which makes the surroundings constantly changing, textured, and interesting. The emotion, given through design is very strong and impossible not to understand once you're in it.

One crypt at the top in particular drew my attention from the very bottom of the hill because of it's different shape and color. As I ascended the hill the crypt would get hidden behind a tree or landmass then appear again rewarding my efforts with a different angle. It drew me all the way to the top.

Here is an angle from below. From this vantage point I get to see the fence that I wouldn't if I only saw it from the front.

At the top I was rewarded with the full view of the crypt. 

Also, the size and and style of the markers changed the higher up I went. At the bottom they were mostly stones, in the middle, smaller crypts and at the top HUGE freaking monuments to the richest people in town. 

The place was so cool, I highly encourage anyone to visit. Though if you go by yourself on a stormy day when no one else is up there and have a highly active imagination, I am going to warn you about things like this.

That are more than a little creepy, especially because statues like this one are inside open mausoleums, and I had to get right up to the doors to see what was inside. Invariably a big gust of wind would blow me towards the terrifying statues and give me goosebumps like someone was 'walking over my grave.' Only I was walking over theirs!

Ok, enough morbidity. 

Things I Learned Today:

-Dora the cat thinks that my face/neck is the most appropriate place for her to be all the time.

-The UK and Continental Europe have different outlets.

- Glaswegians will almost always start a conversation with a comment on what the weather is doing. (that might be a UK thing though.)

-The subway is a circle in Glasgow, so if you miss your stop you just have to wait for it to come around again. Freaking brilliant idea.