Paying the Price

In the midst of trying to write this post last week I found out I'd apparently used up my allotted gig of photo/video storage for this blog, and now Google wanted money. Trying to find a way around this problem (read: being cheap) I pared some earlier posts and photos but it seemed to be all for naught, and I finally caved today and paid the whopping $5 for 20 gigs of space, which should hopefully be enough space to last for the rest of my life.

Moving on, a bunch has happened over the past couple of weeks, so I'll get right down to it.

One of the nicest things about studying at the University of Edinburgh is that the ISC (International Students Centre) organizes relatively inexpensive day trips every weekend around Scotland/Northern England. The only problem lies in the fact that I am not a morning person and most of their trips leave sometime between 8 and 9 in the morning. For those of you who scoff at the idea of that being "early", congrats, you are a better person than me. Anyway, I already missed a trip to a whisky distillery by oversleeping so I was determined to be up on time for last weekend's trip to Bamburgh Castle and Melrose Abbey. I was prepared: I set three alarms and went to bed at a reasonable hour. It didn't help. I woke up at 9:30 (the bus left at 9) and was instantly filled with self-loathing for having wasted an ever-valuable 15 pounds and more, the chance to go out see something I probably would never get the chance to see again. But then determination kicked in and I discovered I could meet the trip halfway, so I packed a lunch, hopped on a bus, and set off for Melrose, a tiny border town in the south of Scotland and home of the ruined Melrose Abbey.

The bus ride was a little more than 2 hours, but it didn't feel it at all due to the absolutely incredible scenery of the Scottish lowlands. Rolling hills, green pastures, rivers and creeks, lots and lots and lots of sheep, mountains off in the distance, and ruins just off the main roads, all illuminated by the somewhat reclusive (and thus highly valued) Scottish sunshine. And I got to drive through a town called Peebles, which I thought was just great.

I arrived about 2 hours before the ISC was supposed to show up and needed something to fill the time. The lady at the tourist office recommend either hiking up one of the hills overlooking the town or taking a walk along the river. I opted for both, starting with the Eildon Hills.

There's lots of legends surrounding the hills, namely that Arthur and his knights are buried somewhere in there, but I just wanted some views.

Up we go. 

You have no idea how nice it is to see the sky here this blue. Also, the moon is in the top-left corner.

It's really pretty.

I had hoped to go a little bit higher than I did, but not expecting to go hiking, my Doc Martens couldn't handle all of the mud from the rainfall the night before.

Next was a walk along the River Tweed. It was nice and leisurely.

Bridge.

I only took this photo for term 4.

Looking back on two of the three Eildon peaks. 

Town square with yet another mercat cross on the left.

The ISC trip finally pulled in to town and we ventured inside Melrose Abbey, a ruined Cistercian settlement dating from the early 1100's. The entire borders region is known for it's abbey's, almost all of which are ruined because this is the first place the English attacked when they crossed the border.

As with most ruins I've seen, it's amazing to imagine what these places would've looked like fully intact and to realize that they were built before any of our "modern" technology existed. It's all very, very impressive.

You can't tell super well from these pictures, but the abbey is actually quite red, not grey. Also, we were rushed through, so for the most part I didn't have time to learn about what I was taking photos of, hence the lack of captions.

Abbey from the front.

Another shot.

 Inside.

There were stairs here. 

This is supposed to be a pig playing the bagpipes.

Inner roof of the cathedral. Each one of those circles has something carved into it. 

 Where the (supposed) heart of Robert the Bruce is buried.

All in all, it was a solid trip, and I was happy to have salvaged the day.

Yesterday, Emma and I set off up the east coast of Scotland to visit two of things in my guidebook's "36 Things Not to Miss": Dunnottar Castle and the Arbroath Smokie.

It was a two-and-a-half hour train ride to Stonehaven, the main town near Dunnottar, which meant we got to cross the Forth Bridge, a remarkable architectural achievement pictured below.

It was definitely more grey when we crossed it. The picture is from Wikipedia.

The unfortunate thing is that you don't get to see the actual bridge when you're crossing it. You do get to see the Forth Car Bridge, though it's slightly less interesting.

The Forth Car Bridge crossing the Forth Bridge. As I said, grey.

It was incredibly cold, rainy, and windy when we got to Stonehaven, so we opted to cab out to the castle instead of our original plan to walk. I think it was a good decision. Now, not only is Dunnottar castle in an absolutely stunning spot (a rocky outcrop of land right on the North Sea), but it also played an important part in the history of Scotland, protecting and then smuggling out the crown jewels during an attack by Oliver Cromwell. William Wallace and Mary Queen of Scots also spent some time in the castle, the former burning a captured English garrison in the castle church. In another Mel Gibson connection, some of the scenes in Hamlet were filmed here.

As I said, the castle was absolutely STUNNING, even in the cold and the rain. I know a lot the adjectives I use in this blog might seem hyperbolic, but I'm really not exaggerating—the place was badass.

I mean, just look at that!

Climbing down into a valley and then back up to reach the castle, I couldn't begin to imagine how they built  it or how anyone would successfully be able to attack it.

Castle from the beach.

The place was also huge—a staff of 100 worked and lived there when royalty was visiting—and it was really interesting climbing through the mossy and expansive ruins.

Objects may be larger in real life.

Here are some photos. The smudges/orbs that make appearances are courtesy of the rain.

The sign says "Lion's Den", which I find incredibly hard to believe. 

Whig's Vault. Description in the picture below. 

What I also found amazing is that these prisoners were marched from Edinburgh to Dunnottar. 

To conclude: awesome. I never thought I'd be a "castle person", but after this one and Doune, I'm definitely a castle person.

Just look at that!

 Cold and wet, but very, very stoked.

No cabs would come and get us, but we were fortunate to share a ride back in to town with some French tourists. Then we caught our train to Arbroath, a fishing village further down on the east coast.

Arbroath is best known for two things: it's (surprise!) ruined abbey where the Treaty of Arbroath calling for Scottish independence was signed, and the Arbroath smokie, a smoked haddock delicacy. We were very hungry when we got into town, so we opted for the smokie first. The place recommended in my guidebook didn't have anywhere to eat the fish on its premises, so we found a local bar, got some pints, and dove right in.

The fish was delicious and literally fell off the bone. The best fish I've ever had? Not sure (apparently they're better hot and we ate them cold), but it was still damn good and I was glad to have chased down an authentic Scottish experience.

These guys have been in the smokies business for a long time.

Smokies!

Safe to say we devoured them.

By the time we set off for the abbey it was dark so I couldn't get any decent photos. As to be expected, the place was huge, awesome, and just the right amount of eerie being that we saw it at night. Look up some pictures online if you get the chance. There's some playful jesting from UK-ers here about my excitement for all this old, decrepit stuff, but I think they're just jaded from growing up with it. It may be just the same to them, but it's brand new to me. And if anyone gets the musical reference I just made, well done.

Here are two funny photos from Arbroath:

Yes, that is a Danny DeVito nightclub.

So metal.

With those two knocked off the list of 36, and counting what I plan on doing when in Glasgow this weekend, I've now done 12. 33% ain't bad.

I also ventured in Holyrood Park for the first time with Sarah in attempt to climb Arthur's Seat, but the way to the top was closed so we just ended up wandering around. I took some photos, but it was cloudy/foggy so they didn't turn out well and aren't worth posting. All the more reason for me to go back again.

And last, but certainly not least, a very happy belated birthday (on the blog at least) to Becky, who finally made it to the big 18 two weeks ago and threw a wonderful party to celebrate. I think she's probably responsible for the majority of the 600 page views I've got from the UK, and that is also deserving of a congratulations.

Twenty Minutes

Observant readers may recognize the photo below from one of my earlier blog posts. If you do, please, step away from the computer and go outside. 

I snapped this shot during my first real walk around the city even though I didn't know what it was at the time and it looked so far away standing on North Bridge that I wasn't sure I'd ever get to it. Anyway, I found out it's called Calton Hill when I quite literally stumbled onto it on one of my "just walk and see where you end up" tours of Edinburgh (there are a lot of raised and unassuming cobblestones on sidewalks here). 

I first found the Old Calton Cemetery, the resting place of philosopher David Hume and some other notable Scottish people I had never heard of. I didn't realize it was a graveyard at first because I had to walk up a large flight of stairs to get to the grounds and I was just trying to find the giant obelisk I had been following (which turned out to be the Political Martyrs Monument). It was pretty nice as far as graveyards go and very peaceful with a clear blue sky above (*ominous pause signaling something looming on the horizon*), but there are were also plenty of discarded beer bottles and the like, because nothing says a fun Friday night like drinking with the deceased. Kids these days.

Political Martyrs Monument.

Hume tomb.

Scots and especially those from Edinburgh (his hometown) seem to be very proud of David Hume. There's actually quite a hilarious statue of him clad in a toga on the Royal Mile. It's funny because he was born in the 1700s' and I think the toga craze was over. I still need to get a picture of that.

More tombs.

Artsy fartsy.

Then I set off for the top to take in what I hoped would be spectacular views, and I wasn't disappointed in the least. Not only could you see almost every notable monument/building in the city, but you could take them all in by turning your head 20 degrees in either direction. There are also plenty of monuments and buildings on the hill itself, all pictured below. As of now it's my favourite place to go in Edinburgh, just not after dark when it becomes the place to go for outdoor sex and male prostitution. Pobody's nerfect.

New Town from Calton Hill.

Leith and the Firth of Forth.

New Town again with mountains beyond the Forth.

Forth Bridge connecting Edinburgh with Fife. It was the longest cantilever bridge in the world until the Quebec Bridge was completed in 1917. Canada!

Clouds.

National Monument to commemorate those lost in the Napoleonic Wars. Back in the day Edinburgh was known as the "Athens of the North", so I guess they really wanted to secure that title by basing the design on the Parthenon. If it looks incomplete it's because it is—they ran out of funds before it could be finished. I still think it looks pretty good.

Nelson Monument.

Royal Observatory.

Arthur's Seat, which I will climb before I leave.

View of the Old Town and Castle. Dugald Stewart Monument in the foreground.

Calton Cemetery from Calton Hill. North Bridge in the background.

The Crags, which I will also climb before I leave.

Panorama from Calton Hill (Arthur's Seat to New Town). The wind was worse than it sounds.

Now, as for the "looming on the horizon" I alluded to earlier, coming to Scotland I had been warned that the weather is sometimes less than, shall we say, "cooperative", and you'll probably end up running into these adages should you ever travel here:

"There is no such thing as bad weather, only inadequate clothing."

"If you don't like the weather in Scotland, wait twenty minutes."

Basically, the weather comes hard and fast. Up until now I had only had to deal with some light drizzle, but I finally understood what all the fuss was about when I hit the top of Calton Hill and felt like I was about the get blown off even though it was absolutely beautiful not 5 minutes before. I'm not going to lie, it felt pretty epic to be standing on top of the hill overlooking the city with the wind howling and rain pelting my face (that the Besnard Lakes happened to be my soundtrack when I was up there made the event feel all the more colossal). It was damn near triumphant.

If you look back at the photos note how the sky goes from light to really dark then back to light at the end. They were all taken over a period of 20 minutes.