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.

Plane, Plane, Bus, Train, Glasgow!

So it begins!

Saturday was my sister’s wedding day.  It was wonderful and beautiful and everyone cried a bunch. It was amazing to see the accumulation of all the work we have done over the last few months come together in one day of spectacular celebration. Once the rings were exchanged, the toasts were given and the dances were danced the evening started to wind down and the realness of my next hurdle started to hit me. For the last few weeks the wedding has been the primary focus, and leaving was just something I was going to do after the wedding. But now the wedding was over, the reception was coming to a close and people were making plans for the morning. But I wasn’t going to get to go to brunch the next day, by the time most everyone else would be waking up I would already be somewhere over Minnesota.

I got home and finished packing my bag, all put together it weighs about 43 pounds including clothing, drafting materials and tools in a duffle strapped to the bottom (fingers crossed that both pieces make it all the way through!) I didn’t think it was all going to fit but as you can see below…

To

Awe, yeah.

In the morning I woke up with a sour stomach (not from the reception, but nerves) drank some tea and started chewing peppermint gum, a trick I learned from my mechanic a couple of days ago.  If you don’t have antacids it’ll help calm an upset stomach.

Paul and I drove to the airport at 7:15am and it wasn’t until we turned off I-5 to the airport and saw all the signs for it that this finally felt real. I was going to the airport to fly away across the world. We met my parents at the United counter and I had the fastest check-in process ever and the security lines were short enough we had time for a coffee together. But soon, the time came, there was much hugging and crying and I’m going to start again if I don’t stop there.

Once my family was out of sight I was venturing deep into TSA territory, I had an interesting mix of emotions; sadness, loneliness and also a stalwart sense of independence. From this point on I will be the only person in a decent radius that cares about me, my well-being or itinerary, very far away from my wonderful support system.. It’s  a scary, yet invigorating feeling.

When I entered security I saw how much it has changed since I last flew in 2010. For those of you who don’t know, they replaced the doorway-style metal detectors with giant rectangular panels that flank you, then you turn, put your arms up in the “Hands above your head, dirt bag!” style and just wait for what I assume is a detailed picture of all your organs, bones and potentially concealed nail clippers. I heard one baggage x-ray operator exclaim very loudly to another agent

“We gotta 316 over here.” He said, “A big fat water bottle in this suitcase.” The same way a cop might say:

“We gotta big fat kilo of cocaine over here.” Or “He’s smuggling a small child in his laptop case.”  Or “We gotta flock of endangered Himalayan Parakeets.”  Utmost knowledge that the guy did something so obviously illegal and how dare he be stupid enough to bring his own hydration into hydrophobic TSA country.

I found that on the plane everyone had their own screen set in the seat ahead of them, but you have to pay for TV service. Though the welcome video still teaches you how to connect your seatbelt. At least some things never change. I ended up buying the service since it was a five hour flight and I forgot my laptop cable at home.

On the plane from Newark to Edinburgh I made friends with the older lady in the seat next to me. She gave me all kinds of good advice about getting to and from Glasgow by bus and train.

When we landed I said goodbye to my friend and walked outside into the drizzle and grey skies to the little building marked “BUS TICKETS – Edinburgh, Glasgow, London” and asked how I could get to Queen Street in Glasgow. “This bus to Haymarket then the train to Queen Street.” The man said.

At first glance, Scotland looked and felt a lot like home. Lush green lawns, and a stand of trees across from the road. It wasn't so different, not really. But I loved hearing the accents around me, the first real reminder of how far away from home I really was.

I went up to the 2^nd floor of the bus, because, really, I’m in Great Britain and immediately my backpack proved itself extremely awkward and cumbersome. It’s simply too heavy for me to comfortably pack around, a reality I was worried about but I was specifically told not to bring a rolling suitcase. Plus I had my carry on- a regular sized backpack that weighs about 13 pounds because of my laptop.

When I boarded in Seattle I didn’t have a concrete plan of how I was going to get to Glasgow from the Edinburgh Airport. This is a very big deal because I always have a plan and when things don’t go perfectly I sometimes freak out. But I’ve realized that the “I’m just going to wing it” plan will work but it really helps to do it in a place where you speak the language. I asked for directions to the train in Haymarket at least 5 times because of the massive street construction going on there. Everyone I talked to was more than willing to give me detailed directions.

The train from Edinburgh to Glasgow only took about 45 minutes through beautiful countryside and before I knew it I was standing in Queen Street Station at 11:30am. I admit though, here I paused and walked back and forth between exits unsure of what to do. The city was alive, noisy and mobile through the gatelike doors of the train station, my adventure was waiting for me, but still I hesitated. 
I knew I had to get a phone, I had to call Markee, the friend I was going to stay with and tell her I had arrived and where I was. Most importantly I had to find Wi-Fi and tell my friends and family that I was ok. Also, I had to do this in as few steps as possible because I’m not strong enough to carry my backpacks very long.

The city center of Glasgow was bustling at noon on a weekday; well-dressed people with umbrellas navigated around traffic, bikes and each other seamlessly, usually ignoring “do not walk” signs while an almost constant drizzle fell. George’s Square gave me my first real look at Glaswegian architecture. It’s mostly all stone that I believe at one point was a light brownish yellow but has all turned black and grey via pollution and time. The older buildings in city center almost all have beautiful detailing that engages passers and invites them to pay more attention to their surroundings. Many of the buildings have Roman columns, statues, and engravings into the stone but have a more solid feel to them than many buildings that use that kind of style. Elegant but practical in shades of grey.

Modern Art Museum

On the other side of the square I found a tourist information/gift shop and got directions to Argyle Street just a few more blocks south where I could get a phone. Sure enough there was such a store and I was able to get a phone, SIM card and ten pounds worth of calling/texting for 20 pounds. I’m glad the sales guy activated it for me because he kept asking me questions and I kept having no idea what he was saying. Scotland is a small country, but there are a ton of accents  and some sound like a different language. I heard one that left out the letter “T” all ‘oogether and i’ made i’ really hard oo underand.

The girl at the phone store told me that the nearest free wifi was at McDonalds down the street and she didn’t know of any other place that had it. Once my phone was activated I weighed my options and begrudgingly I headed in that direction. McDonalds was NOT the place I wanted to start my trip. In my opinion it is probably the worst American franchise to take over the planet. Sorry for the obesity and diabetes guys, our bad.

In the oddly chic fast food joint sipping on a child size coke I got Markee’s phone number out of my email and put it into my new little phone and sent her a text. While waiting for a response I re-attached my tool bag to my backpack and noticed I was getting dirty looks from the Micky-D’s staff. Even in a place as used to travelers as Glasgow I still looked like a hobo mooching off the free Wi-Fi (which I was) and re-packing a gigantic bag in the corner didn’t look the best.

By then it was almost one, when Markee was supposed to get off work and come find me. I wasn’t sure how long I had been up but I could start to feel the exhaustion creeping in and affecting my mood and thought process. I was cold, it was raining, I felt vulnerable because of my bag, I was tired and I couldn’t just find a nice bench to sit on because of the rain. So yes, friends, I found another great American franchise in which to take refuge. Starbucks. Where I almost fell asleep with my grande hot chocolate with whip. (The Starbucks staff were much nicer and accomidating. Especially when they learned I am actually FROM Seattle.)

My directions magically worked! Markee came and found me. Half an hour, a subway ride and a short walk later I had tea in hand in her living room on Paisley street.

All is well.

Things I learned today/ Questions I still have

-Is smiling at strangers just a west coast thing? I smile at most people I make eye contact with and I think I wierded out a few people in the New Jersey airport..  But luckily people waiting at the gate with me were happy enough to smile back. I think I’m going to the right place.

-Shillings don’t exist anymore; it’s just pounds and cents or “pence.” They will laugh at you if you ask about this...

-What the heck is with this country and surveillance??? Everywhere, absolutely everywhere is on camera all the time. You cannot get away from it in the city at all. 

-British pounds are a beautiful currency but extremely easy to overspend. A pound is about $1.60, so you see a sandwich for 4.99 and it's not $5 bucks, it's on the upper side of $8

Top 10 Things I'm Going to Miss About the Pacific Northwest

Well here we are, just under three weeks away from the big goodbye. People keep asking me if I'm excited and my general answer is well yes of course I would be excited if I could sift through all of this panic first.

I've been spending a lot of time up in Bellingham visiting and saying goodbye to family. Trying to soak in as much of the Pacific Northwest as possible, gathering a little bit of home to keep with me when I'm homesick. I have been able to spend a lot of time with my parents and my loving and wonderful old GreyFace Mandy.

I know when I get back I won't be returning to the exact place I left. Everyone I know is in a major time of transition, whether  it means graduating UW, moving near or far, getting married.  The comfortable life I've slipped into will not be waiting when I return and the idea that things will not be as they are, that "normal" will be different is a little scary.

So I'm going to make a list in no particular order of my favorite things as they are in the Pacific Northwest that I love and am going to miss like crazy, (excluding people and families, that could get messy and mushy and we don't want that)

1) THIS DOG

I know it's cheating because I already put her in once, but look she's smiling!

2) The Chuckanut Mountains

Are a mountain range up in Bellingham and they are full of absolutely fantastic trails and views. They span easy hikes (like at Lake Padden) up to pretty strenuous (Oyster Dome, Pine and Cedar). All of them are lovely. 

Oyster Dome! Ahoy! -View west to the Sound

3) Pho

This fabulous Vietnamese soup is very easy to find in the PNW. It's cheap, delicious, and DELICIOUS. Thus far the best place I've found is "Time 4 Pho" in the Magnolia neighborhood of Seattle. The bullet holes in the window just make it more authentic. If you don't want to truck all the way out there, the Ave in the University district of Seattle has many decent choices.

4) The Weather.

Call me crazy, but I love the weather in the PNW. The only reason we complain about it so much is because we secretly are trying to keep people from discovering our secret. Yes it rains a lot, is overcast, foggy and cloudy many days. When it snows Seattle generally completely shuts down more as an excuse to take a day off rather than because we are unable to get around. I think our weather has character, personality and is really beautiful if you have the right equipment to get through it. 

5) Hidden Gems.

Fun Vandalism

I haven't spent a ton of time in the rest of the U.S., but something I appreciate about the PNW is that a lot of our cities have had time to grow from homesteads, to villages, to towns and onward. The addition of layers of influence, culture and infrastructure makes for some pretty spectacular hidden gems out there to discover right in your backyard or along the trail. It makes the cities engaging places for pedestrians instead of flat concrete jungles without a lot to offer a human experience.

Unintentional Greenwall - Pioneer Square

A tree growing over the "On-Ramp to Nowhere" at the Arboretum

6) Fairhaven, Bellingham, Washington

Is the wonderful Old-Town of Bellingham. In the last 10 years the city has done a lot to fix up the area and still try to preserve the old-timey feel. It's home to many stores considered almost sacred in Bellingham like Village Books, where many local authors come and speak and the Colophon Cafe in the same building. More recently there has been the addition of Bay to Baker, and the fabulous Sirena with a gelato flavor for every day of the week. The farmer's market and events like the summer outdoor movies happen at the Village Green, a small greenspace plaza in the center of it all.

7) Our Affinity for Zombies

The PNW for some reason has a real and true love of Zombies. From zombie walks, zombie parties, massive games of humans vs. Zombies on all the major university campuses, Zombie sporting events and Zombie re-enactments of "Thriller" in the streets of downtown Bellingham on Halloween. WE LOVE OUR UNDEAD. 

Excuse me, I was using the facilities and now I eat your brain.

8) The Suzzalo Reading Room

or the Harry Potter room as some call it is a feat of marvelous architecture on the UW campus. It's my favorite place to hang out at UW other than the quad in spring or the fountain when the roses are in bloom. And yes, I understand that it is almost everyone's favorite place to the point of almost being a cliche, but it's awesome. 

9) Our Nerds, Geeks and Dorks,

Up here, everyone is a Nerd about something. It may be rocks, or Harry Potter, or astrophysics, or Zelda or Star Trek, or Halo, or weather, or My Little Freaking Pony. But everyone up here has an irrational love of something. And that's AWESOME, very few people are too busy being cool to really love something with other people. We just had PAX at the convention center and it was a Mecca for Nerds of all kinds. 

Professors Lockhart and Trelawney I presume?

10) Canada. 

Having Canada up there is like having an extremely friendly next door neighbor who has better toys than you...and sneaks you drinks when you're 19. I like going to Canada for the all you can eat sushi in Richmond, the water slides and visiting the megafauna. 

This is a fuzzy picture of the Grizzly bear we saw just hanging out in a swamp.

Is that Switzerland!? No! It's Canada!

Cute right? - In Banff

Well I don't know about you but I feel better. I love this place, I must be crazy to leave it! 
But adventure awaits!


"Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

-J.R.R. Tolkein 

(nerdiness in action!)

"The Program is Canceled" - With A Spark of Hope

About a month ago I bought my plane tickets for the whole fall quarter Croatia trip (yay!). A feat of faith in the trip and in my ability to pay for it. The tickets were $1500 total through Expedia, the cheapest I could find anywhere for a multiple-destination trip hopping over Europe a few times. I also renewed my passport because the last one I had expired after only 5 years because I was a minor when I got it. My new one will last 10 years. Make sure you check your expiration dates before solidifying your travel plans!

 The plan was to leave the day after my beautiful sister's wedding in September and fly to Edinburgh, Scotland. I would stay in Scotland for a week then fly to Zagreb, via Frankfurt and get a bus to Bale. Then in December fly back to Seattle via Frankfurt again. With my schedule set, and money spent I committed to believing in the trip and the project.

Fast forward a few weeks and into my poor unsuspecting inbox comes the bombshell. An email from Winterbottom explaining that our partners in Croatia, the Mayor of Bale etc. have pulled out. Leaving us with nowhere to stay, no food, and no building materials.

The project is canceled.

Winterbottom was distraught and doing everything he could to find us a new project ASAP but the future of the project was looking pretty grim, and we might want to start looking for  other options.

Understandably everyone in the program was heartbroken. I myself dealt with it by crying by a river for awhile. Besides the disappointing about not getting to go, I think all of us had already bought our tickets, and most of them were non-refundable. Classes here at UW were already full and a lot of people like myself had our hearts set on going abroad. Things looked like they were really going to suck. 

I and I'm sure a lot of us spent the next week refreshing my email every hour, waiting for any kind of news, good or bad. I started to look into other options for fall quarter, such as an exchange or an individualized study abroad, but anything like that takes a lot of time and planning. I was just about to try to register for classes when we got an e-mail from Winterbottom asking those of us that could to come to a meeting at UW on Friday. 

The meeting was fairly brief. Winterbottom explained what happened with the people in Bale, and how he has been awake for three weeks trying to fix this. He had two possible projects lined up, one at a psychiatric hospital on the Island of Rab in Croatia and the other in New Orleans. But it would still be a week at least before we knew for sure what our fate would be. 

Upon returning home, into my poor, unsuspecting little inbox came my salvation! An email from Winterbottom, saying that the director of the psychiatric hospital on Rab had committed! She wants us there! We are going there! The hospital has gardens already for food and gardening therapy and we'll be building them a healing garden! It's happening, we are going! 

The hospital looks beautiful, it already has a garden/agricultural feel to it from what I've seen of it from youtube videos and pictures on their facebook page page. 

We'll be flying a bit by the seat of our pants, usually Winterbottom gets almost a year to do what he has done in the last three weeks, and we are extremely grateful for all the work he has done so we can go do this. He usually gets to go a few months before and check out the site and do some preliminary analysis, meet the people and form some connections for us over there. Not this time though, so it will be one heck of an adventure for sure. We'll be doing some in-the-moment problem solving, negotiating, re-thinking and fast acting. 

This is going to be so cool! Only 42 days! Gah!

and here is a video about projects from a few years ago, very similar to what we'll be doing :)