Vetus Scotia

Sigh...so now I’m behind again on my blog. It’s not that I don’t like writing it, I swear! It can be hard to find the time amongst the planning, partying, and sightseeing. But it’s important, for me as well as you (since because you are reading this, you must read my blog to keep up), so here goes!

When one steps out of the train station in Edinburgh (as I did on the 9^th of October), the position of the station alone is enough to inspire an instant sense of awe. Situated in the valley between the old and new cities, you are literally surrounded by this city’s history, imposing architecture, and bustling activity. Unfortunately my only stop in Scotland, I had not intended to fall in love with the history, landscape and people of this country, and it was not until that first step out of the station, that I immediately regretted my decision to make this a short stay. Easily finding the tourist information centre not a block from the station, I received a map, directions to my hostel, and booked a day tour to Loch Ness, as well as the Edinburgh Pass (more on that later). Walking a grand total of five minutes to my hostel, I admired Edinburgh’s distinct, compact size along the way. Built within walls to protect against English invasion, the city grew upwards, resulting in streets of four and five storey buildings not as common to more sprawling old English cities. Ironically, the stone used to build these towering buildings often came from the already paper thin wall, leaving gaps in the defences so that when the English DID invade, they had only to walk through the conveniently places holes to enter the city. My hostel (the St. Christopher’s Inn) was well situated, on the old town side of the train station, literally across the street from one of the entrances to the station. I was immediately struck by the friendliness of the staff but hey, the receptionist at the time was a Canadian, so we got along well. It turns out that the company which runs the St. Christopher’s chain of hostels, also runs the chain of Belushi’s Bars, meaning there is one in every hostel, also meaning there are no self catering kitchen facilities. Sorry, one second, let me get this out of my system now... “BOOOOOOOO!!!” What a terrible thing to do to travellers on a tight budget. Instead, you have the option to order from the bar fare menu, at slightly reduced prices. Again, Boo on you St. Christopher’s Inns! As it turns out, it wasn’t a big deal as cheaper, better (albeit greasier food) could be had for much less in local ma’ and pop shops. After filling up at the hostel on an ‘Aussie Burger’ (burger with fried egg, beetroot, bacon, mayo, and tomato), I wandered the city for a while, falling for its antique charm, before deciding that in a city as culturally different from all my previous stops, it was time to take in some truly local cuisine. After some looking on the internet, this took me to a ‘Tattie’ shop just around the corner from my hostel. For those unacquainted, tattie refers simply to potato, either mashed or baked. Served as I experienced it in the more traditional Scottish way, it is baked, cut open, covered in butter, and then heaped on with a pasta salad of your choice. I don’t know how the people here aren’t larger than Texans... It was delicious (as promised by reviewers on the internet), but was somewhat akin to eating out of a mayonnaise jar. While I enjoyed the local delicacy, the shop owner and another local engaged in an activity I later learned is called “taking the piss”. Now before your minds race off to the inevitable conclusion, this basically refers to completely offensively, without regard to others in the vicinity, with all possible vulgarity, insulting each other. Insulting each other’s appearance, job, income, quality of product, pretty much anything you can think of (although the family does seem – thankfully – sacred). After a few seconds of complete confusion, thinking a Scottish brawl was seconds from fruition before my eyes, I realized these two men were joking, and all awkwardness now aside, enjoyed the free entertainment with my meal. For £4.50, it was terrific value, and while a ‘medium’, I can confidently say it would have fed two people. Score one for local dining! I very uncomfortably dragged myself back to the hostel where I planned the next day and relaxed.

The next morning was spent browsing the many textile shops on The Royal Mile, the street which spans the distance from Edinburgh Castle, and Holyrood Palace. While not an Imperial mile, it is 1976.5 yards, and is the basis for the Scottish mile. Numbering easily in the 20s, the shops all seemed to carry the same merchandise, and most of the time at the same prices. Giving up on trying to find a scarf with the tartan of the non Scottish Foster surname, I capitulated and got myself a lovely lamb’s wool of some unknown but very attractive tartan (if it is indeed a real tartan). Come noon, I met with Derek Huffman, a friend of my brother’s and someone with whom I have not had much opportunity to meet with in the past. Originally a local of Dartmouth, he now hails from Duns, an hour south east of Edinburgh. Always up for taking a Canadian around Scotland, we decided to get out of the city, and headed to Dirleton Castle, in Dirleton. A picturesque ruined castle, it was designed for defence, but also luxurious living within. I was more than happy with the chance to see some of the Scottish lowlands from the road, and noted to myself that this was my first time in a car that I didn’t have to pay for since I left home. Intending to stop into a local pub for a bite to eat, rude service warned us away, and we instead stopped for fast food on the way back. Returning back to Edinburgh by around 3:00, I hiked to the top (not as impressive as it sounds) of Calton Hill, almost at the very centre of the city. Extremely confused at the quantity of women in baggy, similarly coloured clothing, I warily explored the plateau, discovering that a rally for women’s suffrage was taking place. Trying to ignore the pounding drums and weird looks from a whole lot of women, I took my photos and headed to the Nelson Monument which offered the best view of Edinburgh available for only a climb of 143 steps and a small admission. After taking some expansive panoramics (viewable on my photo site) I returned to street level, I hopped aboard the city sightseeing bus for an overview of the city which I knew relatively little about. Once again, the open topped busses offered a great way to quickly see the city, learn some great local history, and plan further excursions. Feeling the pangs of hunger once again, I decided I should make up for my earlier indiscretions with fast food, and try local cuisine once again. To the locals, a shop which sells “fish and chips” (but also a whole range of other deep fried delicacies) is known as a ‘chippy’. While this may seem a little crude to a North American (especially considering that the people working in a ‘chippy’ are known as ‘chippies’), here it only means that they sells various fried goods and chips. And good they are! I went all in, and ordered a true Scottish meal; deep fried haggis with chips and Irn Bru. Haggis: the heart, liver, and kidney of a sheep, traditionally stuffed in the stomach with oats and spices, then boiled, or thrown directly into the fire; more modern cooking methods omit the stomach step. Not traditionally deep fried, haggis is quite low in fat, and high in nutrients. Irn Bru: the national soft drink of Scotland, it is the only beverage which in an entire country outsells Coca Cola. It glows bright orange, tastes somewhat like cream soda, and has more colourants starting with ‘E’ than are allowed for sale in the US, as the company recently discovered when trying to export to foreign markets. Now THAT was a meal! Haggis – it turns out – is delicious, and even now, I find myself missing it. Maybe I’ll have to find out how to make it myself and subject anyone who cringes at its nasty description to its amazing taste. I can only describe it as spicy meatloaf, and it’s quite healthy (when not deep fried of course...)! Full, but definitely with room for dessert, I topped off with another Scottish tradition, deep fried Mars bar. Again, this delicacy can only be described as delicious beyond words, and since that doesn’t tell you much, I guess you’ll have to try it for yourself (which I heartily recommend, but your heart does not, as the fat packed into these local treats is astounding, putting even McDonald’s to shame).

Sunday was my day to let someone else do the planning for me, and for £30 I took a minibus tour north to Loch Ness, home to (or not) the (in)famous Loch Ness Monster. The tour was run by Haggis tours, a company priding itself on its ‘youth oriented’, fun, exciting tours. Simply said, it is not a tour run by a boring guide who mindlessly spews information. Our tour guide (Debs) was both the driver and guide for all 28 aboard, and dramatically presented any information she had while skilfully navigating the bus through the city, lowlands, and highlands. On various stops on the way there and back, we learned a semester’s worth of history on   Scotland, stopping off at various important places such as Glencoe, the commando monument, and Pitlochry. On the Loch, for an additional £10 you can take in a one hour cruise on the loch, learning from the boat captain about the history of the Loch, the Monster, the efforts to find the Monster, and the captain’s own intimate experience with the Monster. Ok, ok...not THAT kind of intimate experience. He claims to have 20 or so odd photos of the Monster, but refuses to release them to the press fearing that humanity would take its toll on such a mystical species. He claims that his sonar (in action on every cruise) has spotted 18 individual monsters in the Loch, and cites similar sightings in at least five other countries, Canada included, in three of its lakes. One man’s personal testimony can be very convincing; however one must realize he has a slightly vested interest in the existence of an undiscovered creature. Monster or not, I quite enjoyed the cruise, taking in the grand scale of the scenic vistas. The return trip took us across a bridge next to the Forth bridge, the world famous cantilever rail bridge, the first bridge in the UK to be constructed entirely of steel, eventually giving inspiration for the Eifel tower. We were back in Edinburgh by 8PM. Just enough time to get back to the hostel for a quick supper and go out for a ghost tour of the old city and under crofts. I do believe the few who expressed their dissatisfaction with the tour in York were expecting a tour more like the one upon which I was about to embark. Every city in the UK has a dark history; in fact any European city with history of the plague has a terrible history of death, suffering, and traged; but none so far have quite had the dark history of Edinburgh. The tours and various museums proudly display Edinburgh’s history of torture, while others soberly document the astonishing numbers of people afflicted by the plague and other waves of illness to sweep through Edinburgh. A labyrinth of tunnels was built under the city in the 18^th century to store goods for merchants, but it was discovered that the porous stone and lack of waterproofing allowed too much water to seep in, and the goods were spoilt. The vaults were then used by the poor for accommodations, sheltering from the elements, but allowing disease and crime to run rampant. Such horrible stories do these vaults contain within their stone walls, I haven’t the conscience to write some of the terrible stories I learned on the tour on my blog (although I delighted in telling my mom on the phone). The tour takes you through all of this and more, the guide delighting in telling you all the dark stories of death, but in contrast to the York tour, very emotionlessly telling you about the hauntings; the hoards of people who have since emerged from the vaults with similar injuries; the white witches who have tried to contain the evil spirits only to stumble out coughing blood. Fun times! Hilariously enough, I did leave feeling quite sick, but I insist that I entered the vaults with a tickle at the back of my throat. Oh wait, that’s not hilarious at all. Oh crap, I’m sick again.

And the next morning, sick I was. Unfortunately this was the day I had picked to use my all day pass in Edinburgh, a pass which for a set price, gets you into as many of the listed attractions as you can manage in one day, all for the initial price. Somehow pulling myself out of bed around 11 (a feat considering my headache and sore throat) I endeavoured to see as much as I could to get my money’s worth. First stop was the Edinburgh dungeon, not the actual site of a dungeon, it is where “chilling tales and petrifying aspects of our history are reenacted, providing eerie, spine-chilling fun for anyone who dares enter the world of the Dungeons”. So what they MEANT to say is that is the most theatrical, high budget, non-kid friendly, wank-fest for haunted house makers in Europe. Based loosely on history, a talented (if not over the top) group of actors attempts to embarrass every member of the group (around 20 per tour) and takes you through a haunted house with an impressive set and series of events designed to make any young kid need priority exit and night time supervision for at least a week. The beginning was funny, a mock trial in which individuals from the tour were found guilty on charges ranging from dancing naked in the woods (obviously a witch) to cross dressing. The whole thing takes around half an hour, and culminates in the guilty (that’s everyone in the group) being “hung” in the dungeon’s latest “attraction”, the “Drop ride to Doom”. Essentially a theme park ride which elevates you, then lets you free fall, it is supposed to give you the idea that you are being hung at the gallows...how morbid... Participation is optional, but I decided what the heck, I WAS trying to get the most for my money on the Edinburgh pass. Boring. Next. A few Advil later, I was on to my next attraction, the Camera Obscura. A camera obscura (of which there are many in the world) has a mirror at the top of a tall building, projecting the light into the building on a table where it can be viewed, the mirror swivelling to provide a 360 degree view. The camera itself is very cool, but it’s the four floors leading up to it that are the most fun, filled with optical illusions, distorting mirrors and lenses, and visual peculiarities. I can proudly say it is the first time I saw the hidden image in one of those magic images, where you have to stare like an idiot for ages until some image magically pops out at you. I figured out the trick when I spotted the reflection of a light in the glass, and focused on that. Voila! Hurray for David! The next stop was the 3D Loch Ness Experience. Having a hard time finding it due to poor directions in the guide book, I asked a cabbie for directions and had to laugh at the expression I received when he though I asked how to get to Loch Ness (geographical knowledge required for a laugh here). Finding it, I found myself in a comfortable theatre learning about the history of exploration in Loch Ness, the original sightings, and the quest to discover the extremely elusive monster. As I remember, that was the last thing I did with the pass, but with a bit of time between then and now, and being quite sickly tired, the rest of the late afternoon is a blank as I hazily got back to the hostel, and slept until around 10PM. Feeling much refreshed, I stayed up until quite late, enjoying a great phone call with my family, eventually going to sleep for a short while before my 6AM bus to the airport. Next stop, the Emerald Isle.