trip down memory lane

I spent this past weekend in Scotland, Friday and Saturday in Edinburgh and Sunday in Glasgow. This was a particularly important trip for me as I have been wanting to return to Edinburgh for ages to revisit the places and faces of my year as a little Scottish boy After much deliberation and anxious procrastination, I summoned enough courage to give the family of a close friend (albeit from when I was 9) in Edinburgh a call to ask if I could stay at their place. Luckily, Scottish people are uncannily friendly and talkative and the whole thing went down smoothly and un-awkwardly. So, on Friday morning I awoke bright and early at 5:00AM, hopped a bus and made my way to Kings Cross train station where I boarded and promptly fell asleep on a train to Edinburgh.

The most striking thing I noticed when I left Waverly station is that everything looked so much smaller than I remembered it. Prince’s street was this massive, shiny, posh shopping district with the grand Balmoral Hotel, the Disney store, and that giant Gothic monument to someone or another underneith the Castle when I was 9. I think part of the reason I ached to revisit this place is that my 9 year old self had glorified and intensified much of the city and the things that happened during that year. This trip was a sort of nostalgic tour of my past, but also a debunking of my often overactive imagination at that age – not entirely a bad thing, but a little dissapointing. The bus ride to the Bramley’s house was painless, and so was the 3 block walk from there. The re-introduction of self to Allison was equally easy and friendly and before I knew it, I had a cup of tea and was talking about old times like it was 1996 again. Apparently I have changed a lot in 12 years – I think I might have given her a bit of a scare at the front door, but I was pleasently surprised to see that my memory of their family had not changed much. Douglas has a beard now, and is much taller than me, but other than that looked very much like I remembered him. Allison and Glen didnt appear to have changed much at all, maybe a little older, but I guess my mental image of them wasnt as set in stone as people more my age were. I still had a good 2 hours of sunlight (!! the sun “rose” at 8:45 AM and “set” at 3:30 PM) so Douglas took me around the neighborhood and eventually down to the Botanical Gardens where we wandered some more until the sun had set and the cold had become unbearable. The old house, on Palmerstone Way/Rd? hadnt changed one bit – Im not kidding, it looked (garden and all) exactly how we left it, besides the Porsche in the driveway (apparently realestate has gone up in the area since 1996). We also saw the Lutheran Church, which also didnt look to have changed a whole lot in 12 years, the movie store (which is now a pet supply shop I think), the two green grocers on the way to the Meadows (nothing had changed! I was probably the same Indian man selling fruit and veges as well), the Meadows (the playground has been expanded about 3 times since then) and up through to Prince’s street. After the Meadows, the deja-vu slowed down and I didnt recognize quite as much. We must have driven a lot, or else my 9 year old mind only remember those things that had anything to do with me at the time. Probably the latter. The Botanical Gardens brought back fond memories though, especially the big greenhouse with the palm trees and cycads. Very cool, though we arrived almost at closing time and couldnt get into the rest of the houses and ended up wandering the outdoor gardens for a time before the park closed at 4 PM (aka darkness). That night I had my first home-cooked meal in 3 months (fish!), looked at some rather funny pictures of myself and Sarah at Preston Street school (I was a fat little boy!) and watched a bit of television, my first real re-introduction to British TV. All I can say is, British commercials make no sense and their comedy shows are much funnier. Sleeping in a comfortable bed, in my own room, was quite nice as well and I think I slept close to 10 hours that night.

Saturday was my big sight-seeing day. I walked from the Bramley’s back through the area me and Douglas had passed the day before in order to take some pictures (I bought a disposable camera for this trip since the lost one is not going to replace itself anytime soon….). I stood again for a little while outside our old house in the hopes of catching some familiar face, but sadly nobody was around at 11 AM on a cold, rainy Saturday and I had to satiate myself with the possibility of maybe seeing the girl next door get into a car across the street with an older, white-haired man. Was this Emma? It looked a little bit like what I remember of her, but could also have been her younger sister…. 12 years is a long time and who knows, that could have been someone completely different. I had this fantasy of seeing her again and asking if she remembered the love letter she slipped under our door the last day I was there…. I wonder where that ended up? Hm. Would have been funny though, awkward, but funny. 

 

From here I trekked on down towards Arthur’s Seat. On my way I passed Preston Street Primary School, where Sarah and I attended P3 and P5 respectively (or was it P4 and P6? I can never remember). Again, this was a little bit dissapointing, the school looked small and lonely on the corner, but more or less how I remembered it. The big cement structure in the playground area is still there, as are the little painted playground games on the asphalt. It was Saturday so there was nobody around, but I would have liked to peek inside and look around a bit. Im sure it would look even smaller inside. Ah to be 9 again… The Commonwealth pool looked very familiar, though they have taken the big spiraling water slide off the backside of the building. Sad. From here I walked towards Arthur’s Seat and the crags.

 

Of all the things I wanted to do while in Edinburgh, climbing Arthur’s Seat was the most important. This mountain holds so many fond memories about it from our time in Scotland – both physically and almost spiritually. To a little boy from the great flat land of S. Minnesota, this massive, ugly bulge of rock and earth was one of the most impressive things ever discovered by man. And that you could hike to the top in 20 minutes was incredible! I wandered this area for a good 2 hours on Saturday, walking up and down the crags, and to the top of the Seat where, with my arms stretched out, I could feel my feet lift off the ground slightly from the insane wind that was ripping across the top of that balding mound of solid rhyolite. I came down the backside of the Seat, towards Carlton hill with its tower and despondent, half-built Parthenon, and took a little detour over to the ruins of a small medieval chapel overlooking the city. I remember this place distinctly from when I was little, my mom and I found it one day (cant remember if Sarah was with or not, I dont believe so) and I imagined myself turning it into a sort of battle outpost. I took a little breather here and contemplated similar thoughts (it really would be a fun place to build a fort) before continuing my way down into the city. By this time it had really started to rain and couldnt have been much more than 35-37 degrees F out – I was a little cold to say the least. 

 

The idea at this point was to make my way down and over to Carleton hill, and from there wander towards the Castle. Did this happen? Nope. I am so terrible with maps in these little European streets where nothing is labeled and some differ by less than a single syllable (St. Andrew street, St. Andrew way, St. John Andrew way, St. Street Andrew Way John, and so on….). I ended up wandering out of the city center, into a district called Leithe, all the while hungry and wet and cold from the ridiculous weather that was building up above me in the slate gray sky. On my wanderings, I passed the new Scottish Parliament building, an ultra-modern complex of stone, cement, and steel that looks as though it is made out of mud and sticks. Weird, but very eye-catching and viewed from above (on the crags) the landscaping and lay-out of the structure is really stunning. One section is designed to look like the hulls of fishing boats, upside down. Im not too sure about this, but it still looked pretty awesome. After realizing that I was no where near Carleton hill, I made my way back to the center and followed Prince’s street down towards the Castle. By this time I was absolutely freezing and starved so I jumped at the first reasonable looking place to consume calories, a fair trade cafe below St. John’s Church. The food was good, but definitely not worth the price and I once again thanked myself for sucking it up and calling the Bramley’s. Free lodging is such a blessing. 

 

After reviving myself a little, I ventured back outside and down to the gardens and grounds at the foot of Edinburgh Castle. Nothing was really happening there and, as it was getting dark, I decided to visit the Royal Museum of Scotland, a natural history sort of place that I loved when I was 9 for its collection of taxadermological (haha sp?) wonders. This was the only place that didnt dissapoint in terms of space and size – it was huge when I was 9, it is still huge. Its a good thing this museum is free, because it would take ages to walk just one level and read/see everything around you. The stuffed animals are a little creepy and looked even less friendly 12 years later than they did in 1996 – apparently there have been complaints about the tatters, sour state of some of these preserved dead things and the museum is working on replacing them with less volitale, plastic dioramas. There was a really interesting exhibit on extinction with specimens of a variety of now extinct critters, including a Dodo, the Passenger Pigeon, and one of those giant hair birds (forgot what they’re called…). I wandered the galleries here for a good two hours before my legs started to complain and my hip began to ache (dont remember either of these ever happening when I was 9…). Exiting the building I was greeted by a veritable blizzard of sleet and rain and decided against the walk home, instead hopping a bus and shivering amidst an amazing number of other cold, wet, and miserable looking Scottish people. It kind of felt like the bottom of some child’s snow cone were dripping all over Edinburgh that night. Needless to say I arrived back at the Bramley’s soaking wet, hungry, and a little tired. 

 

That night Allison and Glen were off to a Scottish dancing event, sort of like square dancing in the US, with a caller and lots of complicated steps and movements in a group of partnered dancers. They spent much of the time before leaving reviewing various dances that were going to be played that night in a series of little, ancient-looking books passed down by Allison’s grandfather. Douglas and I got a bit of a kick out of this whole ordeal. After dinner that night, me and Douglas went to the Golden Compass at a nearby movie theater. Im not going to say much about this event, except that if you have any semblance of a soft spot in your heart for Philip Pullman and his amazing trilogy, see this movie with a massive grain of salt. Like all things Hollywood, the director ripped giant chunks out of the book, spent about two seconds on characterization and relationships, and enlisted an army of CGI and special effects goons to glitz and glam the movie into a watchable, moderately funny, cartoon of what is one of the most philosophically advanced children’s books every written. Sigh. Boooo hollywood, booo! I spent the rest of the night with Douglas in the livingroom watching this comedy show called QI and drinking wonderful Scottish beer from Edinburgh. 

 

The next morning I said my goodbyes to the Bramley’s and made my way back towards the city center to catch a bus to Glasgow. Neil, my good friend from Preston Street, goes to uni at Glasgow University and is in his 3rd year. He lives with 4 other people, 3 girls and a guy, in a flat a little ways out of the city center, but near to the school. The bus to Glasgow from Edinburgh is ridiculously cheap, about 12 dollars round trip. I really wish we had similar service between cities in America – greyhound is much more expensive. I guess its like the bus from Tacoma to Seattle, in length, but still… Lame America, lame. Glasgow is a really interesting city. From the little I saw of it via Neil and our wanderings around the University and the West end, it feels both modern and well-off, as well as old and dangerous. Glasgow has the most violent crimes per year of any city in the UK, with a particularly high occurrance of homosexual rape (weird). Neil was mugged his freshman year coming home from the University, but managed to get away with a black eye and a pretty nasty cut. He says that Glasgow is, for the most part, a great city and that the more violent, dirty aspects of it can be easily avoided if you dont put yourself in unsafe situations (aka walking home at 3 AM drunk ). From what I saw, this is mostly true. It felt like any slightly down-and-out American city, maybe Detroit or Oakland, parts felt a lot like Tacoma, but I guess in the UK, a city where people knife each other is a bit of an abnormality. Weird, that thing with knives here. Guns really havent made a big splash in the inner-city crime scene here, which is great, but recently there have been a few more shootings in London and everyone is freaking out that Britain is turning into the next America. Whatever, all I know is that I can walk back from a club here at 4 AM, in the middle of London’s so-called Bronx (Brixton) by myself and feel relatively comfortable. But I digress…..

 

After arriving I got a little tour of his University and the area around it, after which we stopped in the most amazing little tea and organic food cafe I have ever set foot in. This is in no way an exaggeration and I am a little angry that I cant remember its name for the life of me – Ill ask Neil and get back to you. It had a menu that was about 15 pages long and 90% tea – from everywhere: Africa, India, China, Pakistan, etc… etc… etc… I could have had 12 pound white tea from China, lotus blossom tea from Egypt, mate from Brazil – I was in heaven. In the end we decided to split a pot of the most ridiculous looking thing on the menu, called Mate Boom Boom, an infusion of mate, green tea, ginseng (!!), guava, brown sugar, mint and a few other things that I cant remember. Lets just say it went boom and leave it at that – freakin amazing! I managed to sit down and bump a big kettle of month old tea leaves and moldy water off a brass tea-fire-device-thing and spill it all down my backside in the hour we were at this place. Great, yeah and the back of my coat still smells like sour tea goo. From here we wandered down to Neil’s flat, a typically college-student-esque abode with five rooms, a kitchen, bathroom, and central hallway region. Neil’s room is massive and I was provided with a delisciously comfortable couch to sleep on. Its funny how everything I’ve slept on during my travels this semester has felt 10x better than the beds at this IES dorm place…. For dinner, Neil, two of his flatmates, and I all went out to dinner at a pizza place where one of the aforementioned flatmates (Holly maybe? cant remember names for the life of me) works. I had a ridiculous amount to eat (a full pizza, two drinks, and a piece of apple pie), as did everyone else, but it only cost 10 pounds with her discount. After this Neil and I met up with his 5th flatmate at a bar where we where provided with more free food and lots of free drink (Chloe, the 5th flatmate, worked at this place) until about 1 AM when we stumbled full and happy back to his apartment and watched online TV until both of us passed out. Ive got to get myself a group of friends that work at bars/restaraunts – its so much more enjoyable when you dont have to pay/can pay 1/2 price for everything! This whole Glaswegian experience was a lot of fun and Im really mad at myself for not going up there earlier/more this semester. It brought back so many good memories of our friendship from 12 years ago and I really got along well with his friends. That, and it was refreshing to be around some real British kids in their natural setting – aka living in a situation much like my own back home in the NW. I was sad to leave the next morning, but the 5 hours of sleep and rather rushed journey back to Edinburgh to catch a 11:30 AM train to London helped give the reality check I needed and before I knew it, I was back at Kings Cross breathing smog and surrounded by the noise and humanity of everything that is London. Ah…. Home sweeet home. 

 

And so concludes my relaxing and (Halleuja!) problem-free, money-pinching trip to Scotland and back. As the capstone to my time here in the UK, it was everything I had hoped for and more. I feel oddly complete now that I have return unscathed from the land of my distant childhood and the year which I firmly believe set in stone much of the person I am today. In some strange way, I feel as though I can start this new leg of my adventure called life in 5 months 100% a new person, having come to a very satisfying level of peace with all of the issues that came out of that year abroad and the time after highschool. So bring it on life! Im here to kick your ass!!

Ill make sure and update you one more time before Sunday (aka leaving for home day). Things on the docket for this week: 3 finals, packing, ice skating, Tate modern, and Chew the Fat @ The End Club. Woooot!!!!!!!!!! T-minus 5 days and counting.

(btw Im not too sure what happened, but I pressed some random combination of keys on accident and turned parts of this into itallics and others bold. Sorry! )