Coldstream

I spent the last three days visiting my friend Sandy, who lives in the Borders region--between England and Scotland. The small town of Coldstream lies right next to the river which at that point defines the boundary between the two. It was a quiet three days, full of home-cookin', card games, and walks around the town.

I had haggis for my FOURTH time! And it was better than any of the others. Mmm, homemade haggis!
Funny, my host-mum asked if I would eat haggis, but was not concerned if I'd eat turnips or pumpkin or any of that nasty stuff.

The Borders region is mostly pretty flat, with a few hills, and has an agricultural feel. In Sandy's area the farms are more of livestock, a little more south the farms grow more crops than animals. The open fields were a nice change, though it's not usually the kind of scenery I appreciate.

I've realised how weird it is to come back to Edinburgh after being away, even for just a few days. It's that feeling you get once you get to know a place well, it becomes a home at some point without official notice, just a feeling that creeps up unexpected.

Photos Up!

Oh yeah, so I posted some photos from my trips to Glasgow and Scorraig.

Also make sure you see my two super-de-duper-ly long posts written this evening, just following this message.

Love to all.

Massive Christmas Update: Scorraig

On Thursday morning I left Katharine's, took the train to the city centre (Central Station), walked about half an hour to the bus station on the other side of the city centre, and boarded a bus heading to Inverness, which is in the Highlands near Loch Ness and the North Sea, with a quick change of bus at Perth. Then Flora and I went grocery shopping for some important Christmas essentials, and we made it to the 'mainland' side of Scoraig, which Google Maps tells me might be called Carnach, seperate from Scoraig by a sea loch, Loch Rum. I think. Pronounced "Room".

Scoraig is a peninsula in the Highlands, nearish to Ullapool, and isn't an island but might as well be. It's best to access via boat. On the 'mainland' side is a free car park and a 'pier', a slope of concrete for small boats, but no permanent place for the boats to go. On the other side of the loch is Scoraig, another concrete pier and a boathouse, and a system by which the boats can be let out to sea using ropes on the pier. It is difficult to explain with words alone so I won't try. Scoraig is also accessible by foot, on a long path around some large hills/small mountains but it's so steep a road may never be put in. Very large things can be brought to Scoraig by a large raft if it's calm and clear.

About eighty people live on Scoraig (Scorraig is the local spelling, but one R is the official), though many were gone for the holidays. Flora divides them into the ones who are "creepy hippies" and the more normal. Most of the people came from England originally, and most are now in their fifties or older, though there are some children growing up there and a few people in their twenties escaping modern life. Everything is driven by wind power, which charges up the batteries used, with solar power secondary. Most people keep animals of some kind, mostly chickens, sheep, and a few people have pigs, cows, or horses. Most of the dogs are trained to be sheepdogs. Half the people are into drugs, some of the home-grown variety.

My first morning on Scorraig was the day of the winter solstice, so Flora and I joined the creepy hippies on the top of a hill to watch the sun come up. We arrived with an armful of fuel for the fire, and received brandy coffee and virgin hot chocolate at the top, shared amongst the dozen or so. The sky slowly lightened around nine, then we grew silent around 9:30 as the first rays broke over the hills. A low "ohm" began when the sun rose above the rocks. Some sort of crazy pagan ritual? Flora and I tried not to giggle. Our efforts were slighted when one of the dogs ran into our direct line of sight and squatted down, leaving its own offering for the solstice.
At that point giggling was guaranteed.

The rest of the time on Scorraig was relaxing and wonderful. What began as myself, Flora, and her parents for the first few days became eleven people in their large cabin. Eleven! During the few hours of daylight we went on walks exploring the area. About half a mile to the west was the end of the peninsula with beautiful views of sunsets, over the uninhabited islands. The mountains dividing Scorraig from civilisation were about two miles away, though I never went that far. One mile to the north brought one over the ridge and down to the other side, which was reputed to be amazing in the summer but muddy and desolate looking when we went over.

Our evenings were spent with large family dinners, games (including The Marble Game... Flora's young nephews, ten and eleven years old, asked me, "Does everyone play this in America?" Hah. Erm, no...) and talking.

Christmas dinner was the slightly untraditional roast beef, apparently most British people have turkey dinners, but it was accompanied by crackers (with crowns, jokes, and toys inside) and whisky---pretty Scottish! We followed the Bush family tradition of having our big dinner on Christmas Eve, and the opening of one present that evening, then a long morning on Christmas Day of presents after the equally-traditional breakfast of an egg and sausage sandwich (I did not partake). Because there were many crackers left over, we had more crackers with our Christmas dinner, which tasted surprisingly like Christmas Eve leftovers. The dinner, not the crackers.

I made friends with the two dogs belonging to Flora's brother, and became their primary caretaker for the almost-week I was on Scoraig. Mai (actually spelled My) was about ten, and her daughter Fati (actually Fatsy, but I felt that was too mean) almost a year old. Both were collie mixes, used as sheepdogs. Fati liked to jump up into laps and be cuddled though she didn't stay for long.

The day before Christmas I made my own contribution to the Christmas biscuits and baked a batch of coconut cookies that were more like coconut-hinted shortbread, as well as a batch of peanut butter cookies with Hershey's Kisses in the center, as Mom makes for Christmas. The Kisses baffled the other ten in the house, they'd never seen such a thing! Flora's "brother-out-law" told me, "I like the peanut butter shortbread biscuits, but what are these dodgy chocolates doing in the middle?" No one could understand how the chocolate kept the shape! I explained how the chocolates are made, and passed around the bag of unused Kisses, which did not impress our British friends. "It tastes like goat's cheese," Flora said. I suspect that British chocolate has different sweeteners than American chocolate. To me it was a bit like the taste of home.

Merry Christmas to all, and Happy Boxing Day!

Massive Christmas Update: Glasgow

So while I have internet back, it's about time I make an update on my life post-finals.

My last exam was Thursday, and I went to my friend Katharine's in Glasgow on Saturday. While there I pretty much recharged from the semester. There was a very large park across the street from her house. I'm bad at estimating areas, but to walk around the perimeter took me about an hour, and it had on the grounds a pond with pavilion and boating dock, walled garden, 'glen walks' that went through some heavier forest and around a waterfall from the man-made dam, a few large open fields, and a couple sets of children's playgrounds. Right next to the park was a train station, so a three-minute walk from her house and twenty-minute train ride got me right into the city centre, very convenient for visiting Glasgow. On my last two days I even took the train trip by myself, AND figured out the Glasgow Underground (a very simple loop with about a dozen stations).

I went to the Glasgow Museum of Modern Art, shopped a bit in the pedestrian area of Sauchiehall/Buchanan streets. I visited the museum of Kelvingrove, what used to be a huge mansion on a hillside in Glasgow, on the north side not the city centre---Kelvingrove was a bit of a mixed bag, by which I mean that the organisation was lacking. There were two open areas, one on the west end that had the taxidermy displays, and the one on the east had some really weird sculpture, including heads hanging from the ceiling with a range of emotions on their faces.

Right near Kelvingrove was the Museum of Transport, which included pretty much every range of transportation used since the invention of the steam engine---and the working model of the steam engine was so cool I could have watched it go for hours. I don't think I'd ever seen one before. The displays had: horsedrawn carriages, including gypsy 'caravans' (modern-day caravans are our RVs/trailers). Old cars, especially interesting because few were American and most were makes I'd never seen before. Some trams (still double-decker) back in the 1930's, before they had buses. Trains, which were boring except for the platform view of the engines. A large room of model ships, pretty boring except for the warships. And some bicycles and motorcycles, apparently the first bicycle is credited to a Scotsman!

Katharine's family was warm and inviting and I learned a lot of things about Scotland, some of it from her younger brothers who are both crazy about rugby. Their TV got a lot of channels, so it was pretty much my first experience with British television that wasn't set to a sports channel so that the pub-goers could watch the evening football match. I helped decorate the house for Christmas, and was asked a lot of questions about life in America. Her 16-year-old brother asked, "Is living in America like Laguna Beach?"
It was pretty cute.

Glasgow

For those of you keeping track at home, I've been safe and sound in Glasgow since Saturday, only I won't have much time to spend on the computer between now and Boxing Day (December 26), so don't expect any detailed updates until then. Maybe an occasional "Hi I'm still alive!" message like this one.

I am in Glasgow and it is freezing cold!

Love to all!

End of Exam Week 2

My archaeology exam was this morning. Strangely enough it took place in a dance room, with mirrors around three walls and a ballet barre. Which was alright except: when the sun came in at a certain angle, bounced off the mirror and into my eye, and looking straight ahead to watch oneself think. Ack, unnerving.

Still it went fine and now my winter break can officially begin!

Today and tomorrow, depending on the Scandinavian country, is St. Lucia day. I was treated to two "almost genuine" Lucia biscuits, which were tasty.

Christmas Dinner

Yesterday was exactly two weeks from Christmas. So despite being just a random Tuesday night, we were served Christmas dinner in the dining hall! How exciting is that?

There wasn't much selection, but we were served turkey, with "stuffing" and "sausages", roast potatos, vegetables, etc., as well as cranberry sauce--surprisingly good--and Christmas pudding, which I didn't eat.

On the way out to the tables there was a selection of free wine, which was undoubtedly disgusting so I didn't any, but there were also crackers! A genuine British tradition! Popping the crackers proved to be a distraction all through dinner, and inside each was a crepe paper crown, a joke (mine: "What runs but never walks?" (water) that's not a very good joke...) and a toy.

Best JMC dinner ever!

Wintertime

This morning I walked down to KB for the first time since classes finished (so, in about two weeks). Things actually got more treacherous than the last time I came down. Sometime, possibly last night, the temperatures finally fell below freezing, so the perpetually-wet sidewalks actually froze. The temperatures are back above freezing now, but of course not everything has melted yet. Luckily, my walk to KB is mostly south, and so most of the sidewalks were melted. The problem was with the east-west sidestreets, because the sun doesn't get high enough to extend over the buildings, and the ice was just thin enough to not be visible and just thick enough to still be slippery.

I'm starting to believe it doesn't get much colder than this in Edinburgh, although the wind chill makes it quite cold at times.

Luckily it's almost the solstice, and the days will start to get longer again. On December 20th (the furthest weather.com will let me see) the sun will be up from 8:40 AM - 3:40 PM. Oh good, a full seven hours of sun!
Of course where I'm staying over Christmas is even more north, near Ullapool (latitude: 57 N; Edinburgh is at 55 N; Washington DC is at 37 N, and currently getting 9.5 hours of day). By the time I'm there it will get about six hours of daylight. Oh good.
Flora: "It's really too bad you'll be visiting when it's at its absolute worst."

Anyway. I had my first exam yesterday, in Musical Acoustics, which took place in the same room (a basketball court!) as a medic exam. The medics papers were in the front half, so I spent a good two minutes not being able to find my name and flipping out. The acoustics exams were in the back corner. Why we couldn't take the exam in our usual room is beyond me, but the court has a balcony area that one or two of the proctors used to watch us from above. I felt like I was in a prison exercise yard.
Especially because I was seated at the front of a row, and if I need to cheat off of the medic in front of me for a different exam, then clearly I deserve to fail.

Down at KB this morning to turn in two hand-in assignments, which are actually due Thursday and Friday, but my last exam (Archaeology) is Thursday, so might as well turn them in now. So Thursday at noon, when Archaeology is over, I will be a free woman. (Sort of. I need to make study guides for my other two exams, in May. Another point I don't understand: why are my exams for Term 1 physics courses sat in May? Don't ask.)

Seven Hills of Edinburgh

First, and most importantly, I added a few new photos to my album. Hooray!

On Friday I took a hiking study break. Sort-of hiking. It took much longer to get to Calton Hill, on the east end of Princes St, than it did to climb the hill. At the top is the unfinished National Monument, dedicated to those fallen in the Napoleonic Wars. (The actual road the hill is on is aptly named Waterloo Place.) There's the Nelson Monument, and a few other buildings I'm less sure about. I was absolutely fascinated by a set of columns on the very top of the hill.

Another quick walk, this time through an old residential area and past the Scottish Parliament building, brought me to Holyrood Park. Rather than climb Arthur's Seat, as Ive done every single time I've gone climbing, I went up the Salisbury Crags, which curve around the west/NW side of Arthur's Seat. A short hike, but tougher than I thought it would be, especially with the wind!


You might think that having been here for three months I would no longer be surprised by language differences, but I found a new one last night. Shirts are called different things here, and the whole time I never knew---even working at CHSS I haven't been able to figure this one out.
I think "tops" are usually dressy tops. A "shirt" is a button-down shirt, but I suppose t-shirt is still a t-shirt. How "blouse" fits in here, and what one would call a normal shirt, I have no idea.

I also like the phrasing one uses to go over to someone else's house/flat/home/room/etc. Rather than specify what type of place it is, you drop the object entirely. So I might say,
"I'm going to spend Christmas at Flora's." Flora's what? It doesn't matter.
"Zach is coming over to mine to revise maths." What is mine? Doesn't matter.
Ambiguous, yes, but also eliminates confusion on what to say.

Mid Exam-Week 1

I've actually been revising for my exams (and papers) next week, but have taken some good study breaks as well... sometimes an all-day study break can be acceptable, especially when it brings you to a beautiful tourist attraction.

On Tuesday, after an hour-long fight with packages at the post office---I swear I am never shipping anything from Britain ever again! Royal Mail is a horrible service---Sarah and I caught a bus out of Edinburgh. Other than a field trip for Archaeology, and a single afternoon excursion to the airport, I hadn't actually left Edinburgh since we arrived in the beginning of September.

The 30- or 40-minute ride brought us to the little town of Roslin Village, home of... Rosslyn Chapel. Actually it was confusing, sometimes it was spelled Roslin, sometimes Rosslyn. I prefer the latter spelling, is that where the name for the Arlington area comes from? Never put that together.

The chapel was constructed like a small cathedral, in the 15th century---patterned after cathedrals from the 12th apparently, although my knowledge of architecture is not that great. Most of the outside of the chapel was covered in scaffolding, so my pictures of this were not very good. Inside, however, the carvings were incredibly intricate. Everything was carved in detail, except perhaps the pews and the altar, but the walls, the columns, the ceiling, the supports, everything else was carved, and each section had its own theme.

So the ceiling was divided into five sections: daisies, lillies, roses, "simple flowers", and stars. One support had the Seven Deadly Sins on one side and the Seven Heavenly Virtues on the other, only Greed and Charity were swapped. Another support read, in Latin, "Wine is strong, the King is stronger, women are strongest, but truth conquers all." from the Solomon? story. There were many images pertaining to the Knights Templar, the St Clair family who owned/commissioned the chapel, the pagan image of the Green Man, patterns probably in code (or so they say), angels, devils, it was incredible. The crypt below was sufficiently creepy, although it looked like no one was buried there... I think it was used as a sacristy.

The trip out and back took all afternoon/evening, partly because the buses only run once an hour. There was nothing to do in Roslin Village at 5 PM, either, except wait at the busstop in the dark. Most of it was residential, there was a corner store or two scattered on the main street, and the two town pubs/restaurants were unsurprisingly located directly next to the Rosslyn Chapel. Walking through the town I felt like I was in a 70's British sitcom.

It's hard to tell with things like that... were there actually codes? With all the other symbols thrown in, it would be difficult to believe that something would be included without reason, but who can tell. Codes or no, it doesn't matter. It was really beautiful.

Actually it was a pretty warm day on Tuesday, about 12 C or so (50? 55? F). But as soon as we stepped into the chapel, we froze. We could see our breath! Amazing what thick stone walls can do.

Pictures will follow shortly.

St. Andrew's

Yesterday was St. Andrew's Day. (St Andrew is, of course, the patron saint of Scotland, not that many are religious here, but it's like St. Patrick's Day only less internationally-celebrated.)

On St. Andrew's, Historic Scotland, which runs most of the historical museums/sites has free admission to something like 70 places in Scotland. Here in Edinburgh, the free thing was Edinburgh Castle. Four study-abroad kids from Caltech came up from UCL (London) to visit, so I accompanied them to the Castle. It was pretty cool, because although I went in the beginning of September, this time I had time to see all the things I didn't see the first time around: the Great Hall, as well as three different War Museums, two of which were dedicated to specific military groups. One was the Scottish Dragoons, or something similar. The other was the Royal Scots Army, or something else similar.

Also they completely redid the Crown Jewels part, so instead of climbing stairs and seeing the crown jewels (and scepter and sword and Stone of Destiny) immediately, there was a very extensive exhibition first that directed us through the history of the crown jewels, which was very interesting but a little long.

In the evening we had haggis (mashed lamb/beef/oatmeal/stuff), neeps (mashed turnips, bleh), and tatties (mashed potatoes). Actually I had haggis twice, and it was pretty much the same each time, and a wee bit too peppery.

We also attended a Ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee, like the girls' name) at Teviot student union. It was a lot of fun, of course... everyone loves Highland Dancing, boys in kilts, and Scottish music! Even if the girls outnumbered boys by about two to one. And of course you don't get ceilidhs in London, so our visitors loved it... but were not prepared for the sheer exhaustion! If you've never been, you have no idea how hard it can be. But think about running in a circle for two or three hours and you might empathise.