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?

More flowers and an organ

After traveling much of last week, I decided to remain in London this weekend. After all, I believe you could never leave the city limits for three months and still not see all there is to see in London. On Saturday, Chuck and I left Terri to grade quizzes while we went to the Royal Kew Gardens. We figured that a few hours would be enough to see what we wanted to see. Six hours later, we had seen only parts of the 300-acre gardens. Those royals sure do know how to tend a garden! What I was most pleased by was that many of the flowers were still in bloom, and many of the roses had blooms that were just beginning to open. So you would have thought it was late Spring, not the beginning of Fall. The grounds are simply beautiful, and I would recommend a visit to anyone who enjoys flowers or feeling like you are in another world while in a major city. (The picture here is in the Japanese garden; you can see just how large this one garden is.)

On Sunday after working on lectures, I went with Chuck and Terri to an organ recital at St. Paul's Cathedral. It was my first time inside the cathedral, and wow! It is large from the outside, and the inside is all the more impressive with its painted dome, sparkling gold mosaics, and fantastic acoustics for a recital. The program included Pachelbel's Toccata & Fugue in D minor, Mendelsshon's Prelude in C minor, Howells' Rhapsody, and Langlais' Incantation pour un jour Saint. St. Paul's is impressive in its own right, but hearing the pipes play to their full effect just adds a special dimension. Oh, and did I mention that the organist, Jeremy Lloyd, is 17 years old? Yep--that's right. At 17 he has now played in St. Paul's Cathedral, and it was the most impressive organ work that I think I have heard. I think when I was 17, my only thought was where to find a summer job. :)

So a pretty relaxed weekend in London, which was just what the Doc needed and ordered. The weather continues to be very sunny and warm, with cool evenings. I couldn't have asked for a better trip weather-wise.



The Kew Palace....not the original, but still pretty impressive.









I loved this cactus because its flowers look like the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree.







Flowers in one of the water gardens.








This is my favorite picture of the day. I like to think this picture proves I have 1/16th of Margarita's eye for photography. Anyway, you can't see it well here, but each leaf has drops of dew, and this picture is now my computer wallpaper. It is a beautiful sun burst on my screen.










This is the Princess of Wales Conservatory, and it was massive! The Brits love their Di!






The orchid room inside the Princess of Wales Conservatory.










A grand tree that grew in every direction it wanted.









I would say this is the main conservatory at Kew. It was built in the 1800s, complete with spiral staircases that allow for a bird's-eye view of the plants below. I took the opportunity to descend the stairs as a Sugarbaker. Of course, I almost fell down the stairs; Sugarbakering wasn't meant for spirals.












Some of the roses at Kew. You can see buds that have yet to open.









The pagoda has seen better days and is seems a bit out of place in its location away from the Asian gardens. But I loved how we were in Heathrow's air path and planes flew over constantly, but I completely forgot I was in a city. The gardens really transport.











This was the Kew Palm House. Inside was the largest palm in the garden, along with what is believed to be the world's oldest potted plant...a palm that dates to the 1700s.






Awwww.....

Insanity, Baths, and Rocks

I am beginning to feel like my students who say that they are using the words "amazing" and "awesome" too much to describe their London experiences. I think that I, too, have begun to wonder if I am really having experiences that are somehow amazing and awesome, or if I have merely grown unimaginative in my ability to describe my reactions and experiences. Surely the latter could not be true for a verbal gymnast like me, so I must be having incredible personal experiences in London. This weekend was no exception.

After returning from Sheffield, I decided to have a spontaneous weekend. On Friday afternoon, I walked from my flat to the Tate Modern, taking in St. Paul's Cathedral along the way. Yes, I got lost a few times along the way, but all roads apparently lead to St. Paul's...eventually. There is no way to describe St. Paul's; one can only experience its size and significance. I only ventured around the outside, saving the interior for an organ concert next weekend. The Tate Modern was a great experience, too. Monet, Matisse, Picasso--they are all there. There was a room devoted to Warhol, so I felt like I was back on the North Side of Pittsburgh. I look forward to chatting with my students about their impressions of the Tate Modern; an art museum is a fantastic place to explore many tenets of psychology. I ended the afternoon with a visit to the Borough Market, which made Pittsburgh's Strip District look small and homogeneous by comparison.

Later Friday night, I took in a show, "Insane in the Brain." It was a hip-hop/street interpretation of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." I wasn't sure what to expect, and honestly went with fairly low expectations. Wow, what a surprise! It turned out to be a really interesting performance with some very talented dancers. The soundtrack alone was worth the show (too bad they didn't sell a CD), and the prowess of the dancers was impressive. There were a few references to pop culture, including an homage to "Fame" and "Flashdance". I thought those were a bit irrelevant to the story, but who am I to criticize a maniac who wants to live forever?!

Saturday morning I left for an overnight excursion to Oxford, the Cotswolds (including Burford, Stow-on-the-Wold, Upper and Lower Slaughter, Bibury), Bath, Lacock (where portions of "Harry Potter" and "Pride and Prejudice" were filmed), and Stonehenge. I had been to Oxford before, so it was a good refresher. It is a very impressive institution, and I love the idea of the self-contained college. The view from atop the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin offered a spectacular view of Oxford, but the sting of acrophobia was not far from mind.

Bath was a beautiful, beautiful place. Its historical importance in the Roman Empire was clear in its architecture (both old and new), and the Roman Baths were awe-inspiring. The Romans truly built structures to last! I could have spent much more time wondering this town, so will probably take a train back.

The excursion ended in Stonehenge, which is a must-see for any UK visitor. The structure itself was very cool. My only surprise and disappointment was how close to the road Stonehenge is. I was expecting to walk some distance to reach the structure, but no--it is just across the road from the car park. So the serenity that should be associated with an undoubtedly mystical place was disturbed by the constant sound of engines. Apparently with the Olympics coming to London in 2012, the UK is removing all roads within a mile of the structure and building a visitor center where people will have to take a shuttle to Stonehenge. I think that will restore some of the natural beauty and peacefulness that I would expect for such a place. But noise or no noise, Stonehenge truly was a very, very cool experience.

The 15 people on my mini-bus received a fantastic tour from David, our driver. A friendlier, more inquisitive guide could not be found; I highly recommend David and the International Friends Tour Company. They use smaller buses, which means you go off the beaten path where the larger coaches can't pass. We saw so much more than what we would have seen on a large tour, and we found many pig-trails that were barely wide enough for one car. And I learned many facts about "realities" that I take for granted or have never thought about. Initially, I had a feeling that David was much like my father. Is this story factual, or is he pulling another fast one and I should brace myself? Consider what I have now decided is valid:

1. Why do most Europeans drive on the left side of the road? That was the way Romans marched. That way, they could hold their shields in their left hands and fight with their swords in their right hands.

2. How was the length of a mile determined? A mile is equivalent to 1,000 paces by a Roman soldier.

3. Why is the English mile slightly shorter than an American mile? Queen _____ (choose your favorite queen) decided that a mile would be equivalent to 1,000 of her own paces, and she had a shorter pace than that of a Roman soldier.

4. In the Cotswolds, wool once was a primary industry. This is why you can see rock walls that run for miles and miles. The walls we re built without mortar (held in place by gravity), and they were 5-feet high (the height a sheep could jump). Each village has its own church, and historically all villagers except shepherds were obligated to attend church. This is why shepherds were buried with a tuft of wool so that when they met St. Peter in Heaven, he would understand why they never went to church. (Somehow, I think the folks at Mom and Dad's church will be hearing this story.) Also, because these villagers wanted to sustain the wool industry by discouraging lamb consumption, a statute was passed that in the UK cooked lamb had to be paired with an herb. The idea was that if the worst herb was chosen, people would be turned off by the taste of lamb. Unfortunately, the herb that was chosen was mint...a perfect complement.

So it was another great weekend. I will be glad to return to the classroom this week and see my students. I have missed them.




St. Paul's Cathedral. The Thames River and the Tate Modern are behind me.










This was a delicious apple turnover with fresh cream that I had while visiting Berford. Dad, be jealous--it was just THAT good.

This is the manor house at Lower Slaughter. Upper Slaughter has its own manor house. Both houses are now hotels.

This is the Royal Crescent in Bath. Because of its crescent shape, no one has a better view than any other. According to our tour guide, the architect built only the faccade of the crescent, so people literally bought the front of their home. They then built their home on the back of the faccade. This is why there are one thousand rooms in the crescent; only the front was standardized and people could build whatever they wanted behind.



This is the Abbey at Lacock. It was absolutely stunning. The sheep in front keep the grass trimmed, and it also provides a religious symbolism that is appropriate for an abbey.






This is the view of one side of Oxford from the tower of University Church. The view was well worth the 3 pounds, but wow were those tower steps narrow and steep. There was no room for a hunchback!










The view from above the Roman Baths. The hot springs were believed to have godly powers (why else would the water be so hot?). I love magical thinking. I wonder if people around Hot Springs and Lake Lure, NC once had similar beliefs?














This is a row of cottages on Arlington Row in Bibury. I love this picture because it gives you a sense of scale. You will also notice that the roof is made of stone--smaller rocks at the top, and larger ones as you move toward the ground. In the Cotswolds, local stones were used pervasively in construction.

This is the Market Cross at Castle Combe (pronounced /koom/). The minister would have stood at the Cross (looks like a gazebo) to ensure business was conducted fairly; the smaller structure to the right is a mounting stand for horses. I thought it would be a perfect place for Ricky to stand and lead singing while Sandy sits at the piano on her mounting step.





The Eagle and Child is England's oldest pub/hotel, dating to 947AD. It is located in Stow-on-the-Wold.

And finally, I confront Stonehenge.