A Scotty Lad

My time in London has been quite the set of experiences thus far.  I have enjoyed my time tremendously.  For all I expected it to be, it has been much better.  The city has been filled with many opportunities to see history, make new friends, and live a life that is otherwise foreign to me.  In this weekend's adventures, I went on a tour to Scotland.  My train left King's Cross at 6:15am. A mere five hours later, we arrived in Edinburgh, Scotland's capital.  Along the way, the changes in scenery were dramatic.  From the bustle of London life to the quieter, more pastoral countryside, to the Scottish hills overlooking firths, lochs, and oceans, Great Britain is more diverse than I had imagined.

We were met at the train by a local tour guide, Robin, in traditional kilt.  We took a coach for a two-hour tour of the city.  All I really wanted to do was eat, not listen to overly-long stories of Scottish heroes and despots.  But Robin was truly passionate about Scottish history, and he took great pride in his heritage.  Though his stories were unnecessarily long, he was a fantastic storyteller.  When he took us to the Palace at Holyrood House, he even played his bagpipes as we walked from and to the coach.  It was both cool and corny, but I could expect nothing less in Scotland.

The afternoon found me walking around Edinburgh with a new mate, Andrew, from New Zealand.  We went to Edinburgh Castle where the views across the city and the Firth of Forth were beautiful.  A quick walk down the Royal Mile (the mile-long stretch that connects the Palace and the Castle) found us in a few pubs enjoying ciders with the locals.  Several hours later, a pub crawl with the larger tour group began in earnest.  Eventually, Andrew and I ended at the Walkabout, an Australian-themed pub.  By night's end, I was reminded of key differences between a 35-year old attached male and a 25-year old bachelor.

Early Saturday, we left our B&B for a coach ride into the Highlands.  The Highlands felt familiar to me.  In some ways, the vegetation and mountains reminded me of my NC home, as can be seen by the two pictures above.  It is easy to see why my Scottish ancestors would have found WNC appealing.  (I need to check Aunt Noma Lee's McMinn family history to see how we got the Irish 'Mc' instead of the Scottish 'Mac'.)  Some of the mountains were absolutely massive, and they reminded me of parts of Zion National Park.  The Highlands are sparsely populated, and the majority of the land is owned by fewer than 100 very wealthy families.  We spent a good part of the day driving through lands owned by the Fleming family, most notable for Ian, who is considered the original James Bond here.  Mutt, you will appreciate this story.  For a mere 1000 pounds (about 1660 USD), you can buy a license to fish or hunt on the Fleming lands for one week.  This is not a bad deal according to Fred, our coach driver.  Another land owner charges 33,000 pounds to fish one of her three salmon streams for a week, and you can only keep three.  Given the two-year waiting list to fish on her property, she is not hurting for money (99,000 pounds a week total just to own property that others want to fish).

The Highlands are dotted with sheep and Highland cattle, and the sheep seem perilously perched on the sides of jagged crags.  Many of the mountains were covered in heather; much of it had lost its purple hue to signal the start of fall.  The roads traced the serpentine perimeter of the many lochs, some of which flow to the North Sea or the Atlantic Ocean.  Of course, no tour of the Highlands would be complete without a stop at the most famous loch, Loch Ness.  There was no sighting of Nessie, but the 22-mile long loch and the remains of Equhart Castle that sit above it were beautiful.  It amazes me for all the wind coming off the loch and the generally frigid waters, the inhabitants of the castle didn't freeze to death.

It is easy to see why Dianne would have felt connected to the Highlands.  I very much felt a sense of being at home.  No worries, Mom--I am not moving to Scotland.  But I did think it would be nice to come back to the Highlands and spend a week hiking.

Sunday was another early day.  After a not-so-great breakfast at the not-so-friendly B&B, I headed to find a camera battery (a nearly impossible feat) and to explore Edinburgh before my afternoon train.  I headed to the Leith River and walked along its footpath at Gareth's recommendation.  I then headed to Arthur's Seat.  Rising 823 feet above sea level (the North Sea is not that far to the east), Arthur's Seat sits above Edinburgh.  It is a volcanic formation that was later shaped by glaciers, just as the rock is where Edinburgh Castle sits.  I was content to sit at the lower plateau; my acrophobia prodded me to go no further.  Even at this lower height, the wind was fierce.  It was a conscious effort to steady my hand long enough to snap a photo.  However, I pushed myself to keep climbing, knowing that my would-be regret of no scaling to the top was stronger than my fear of heights.  What a great decision!  The views from Arthur's Seat were spectacular--360 degrees for miles and miles.  Any care in the world doesn't exist when you are sitting above flying birds, and I can see why the Scots believe this point is where a king would perch.  The experience was so exhilarating that I practically skipped down the formation and back to the city.

I finished my time in Edinburgh with a little shopping.  The Royal Mile feels a bit like Gatlinburg (GASP!) with all its souvenir shops.  No NASCAR or airbrushed t-shirts, but there were kilts, cashmere, wool, and bagpipes in every store.  Before dashing to the train, I made a quick stop to see the statue of Greyfriar's Bobby.  We should all have a companion so loyal.

Five days until utter happiness!!!!  ;)

Shamus, a Highland bull.  He slobbered a lot, but was a beautiful animal.

Standing at the top of Arthur's Seat.  It was very windy, and the views spectacular.  Surprisingly, though, the peak is only 823 feet above sea level.

Walking up Arthur's Seat, looking down on The Palace of Holyrood House (Holy Cross), the Queen's official residence in Scotland.  She spends a week here each year before traveling to Balmoral.

Edinburgh's Castle high above the city.

St. Giles Cathedral on Edinburgh's Royal Mile.

Bobby is a legend in Edinburgh.  As the story goes, Bobby loved his master dearly.   When he died, Bobby would not leave his master's grave, except to eat at the pub where his master ate each day at 1:00.  Every night he returned to the grave to sleep.  Years and years later when Bobby died, he was buried with his master.

The view from atop Arthur's Seat, looking across the Firth of Forth.  The firth eventually empties into the North Sea.

Some of the leaves were beginning to turn colors at Loch Ness in the Highlands.

The remains of Urquhart Castle, overlooking the 22-mile long Loch Ness.

Not as high as Arthur's Seat, but still an impressive view from Edinburgh Castle.

This rainbow (actually there are two--a faint one on the right) appeared outside the train window as we left Scotland and headed to London.

Museums, Parks, and Performances, Oh My!

It has been another great week in London (#4). It was a museum-intensive week for our students, beginning with a trip to the new Darwin Centre at the Museum of Natural History. For anyone coming to London, I highly recommend a visit. The museum itself is amazing for its architecture and beautifully colored facade. The galleries inside are no less impressive. The Darwin Centre is a 7-story cement cocoon that houses hundreds of thousands of animal specimens and really cool, high-tech exhibits to orient visitors to Darwin's legacy. The students were really impressed by this exhibit, and they were able to connect what they saw to the functionalist movement in psychology; thus, I was happy. Before I had to teach again, I had made it through only one-half the museum, so I will save the other half for a rainy day (which has been very rare). The picture here is from Primrose Hill in Regent Park. You can see the London Eye on the right.

The following day found us in the Museum of Science. I found the space less impressive than the Museum of Natural History next door, and the exhibits lacked the same technological pizazz. The psychology section was an incredible disappointment compared to the History Museum's exhibits on child development, memory, and perception. But there were quite a few important exhibits for our students in Terri's math course. After leaving this museum, I took a casual, two-hour stroll through Hyde Park. I walked along the Princess of Wales Memorial Walk, took a few photos at her memorial fountain, and then headed to Marble Arch for dinner with a new friend who is a sociologist from Texas.

On Friday, Chuck, Terri, and I struck out to the Borough Market, London's oldest food market. I have mentioned this market in an earlier post, and it was no less incredible this week than when I first went. I literally gorged my way through the stalls of organic products. The highlights: a caramel jar, ginger granola, three kinds of burnt sugar candy, fresh oysters on the half-shell, a haloumi sandwich, and mushroom/goat cheese pate. Words fail to describe just how wonderful the pate was, and I considered it God's gift to me for going vegetarian.

After my food-induced coma (thank goodness I am walking my bum off here), we took in a play at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. "As You Like It" was charming, but sitting on hard wooden benches for 3 hours was not the most fun I have ever had. Even with the seat cushion I rented, it was difficult to find a comfortable position, especially as the sun set and the wind chilled. But it would be sinful to spend this much time in London and miss a performance at a reproduction of one of history's most famed theaters. My evening ended with a few caipirinhas at Wax Jambu in Islington. Thanks, Emidio, for introducing me to this drink and bar!

On Saturday, I took Chuck to Leicester Square because he wanted to go to Chinatown. We made a quick pit-stop to Covent Garden for a gift, grabbed lunch at one of a seemingly endless number of Chinese restaurants, and made it back to the flat in time for lunch and a quick nap. Later on, we went to the National Portrait Gallery and then to St. Martin's in the Fields for a chamber concert that included Vivaldi's "Four Seasons". The music was not flawless, but the setting was ripe for reflection....candlelight, stringed music, and a beautiful church. I will have to go back to explore the crypt and take in a lunch concert. A quick trip through Trafalgar Square to admire the lights and fountains and we were on our way back to the flat.

I thought Sunday should be leisurely, so I took a 6-hour stroll from the flat to Regent Park and Hampstead Heath. I thought Kew Gardens had an impressive rose garden, but it couldn't compare to the roses at Queen Mary's Garden in Regent Park. For as far as you could see and in as many colors as you can imagine, roses. Roses, roses, roses. I dare say that even the Biltmore would pale in comparison. I wish my gram could see and smell all the roses. Along the way, I stopped by the Wellcome Centre for an exhibit on anatomical and medical models throughout history. Strange though it was, it was an interesting exhibit. I could have done without the models depicting STDs, but hey--you take the good with the bad. I had hoped to stop by an art exhibit on depression in women at St. Pancras Church, but it never opened. I will try again later this week when I can also tour the crypt.

Busy week and weekend! Next weekend will be quieter, though I am thinking about a last-minute excursion to Scotland. Let's see how much energy I have left by Friday.

This was a very interesting exhibit at the Wellcome Collection: ‘I Can Not Help the Way I Feel’ by John Isaacs, 2003. The artist was depicting emotions coming to the surface of the body. From a psychological perspective, this was a very thought-provoking piece.









This is the train station that I use just about every day, King's Cross/St. Pancras. I LOVE the train stations here.












A view from my seat at the Globe. Those poor blokes stood for 3 hours; no sitting is allowed among the common folk. ;)










Enjoying my local oysters outside Southwark Chapel (pronounced /suth ik/) near Borough Market. They were excellent.











Self-portrait at the memorial fountain for Dianna in Kensington Gardens. It was overcast, but the light reflecting off the clouds was killing my eyes.












I simply love this picture and plan on framing it for the house. This cherub sits under the basin in the fountain that you can see behind me in the above picture.













One corner of the monument honoring Prince Albert with a focus on the Asia Group at this corner. The Royal Albert Hall is behind me.












Looking down from the top of the Cocoon in the Darwin Centre.













Smiling at the beginning of the Globe experience. By hour three, the hard seat had erased my smile.









The Westminster London crew outside the Science Museum.











Chuck and I standing on the Millenium Bridge. The Tate Modern is the building behind us. I have no idea what I was looking at or saying.








This is my "home" Tube station, Angel. It has the longest escalator of any Tube station in London. Any thoughts on why the good doctor is walking UP the DOWN escalator?