scotland: part 1

at noon on the day i left, at my dad's retirement luncheon, continental airlines called me and told me my plane from baltimore was cancelled. get to the airport now, they said, we have to put you on a train to new jersey.

immediately i lost all semblance of cool, the way i do when i have everything properly planned out in my head and it goes to shit at the last minute. i should learn to expect this more often, obviously. i fought with my parents the entire way to the airport, eventually having to run after my mom down the concourse to apologize for being an asshole. wrapping up our problems real quick, a la full house, i rode the amtrak to newark airport, where i boarded a plane for edinburgh, where i flew all night long, not sleeping on account of i can't sleep on planes. i watched "walk the line" and when that was done, i watched the graphic of the plane creep its way across the GPS system. i had a window seat and watched the sun rise in the sky over ireland while eating a croissant. flying over scotland was beautiful; apparently it had snowed the day before and all the fields were white.

the customs lady in edinburgh was very suspicious of me. not only did she want to know how long i was staying, but where i'd be staying, who i'd be staying with, my relationship to that person, what he was doing in scotland, how long he'd be there, what he was studying, what i was studying, where i was studying, when i planned to graduate, and what i planned to do after graduation. i earned my stamp.



seeing this guy waiting for me at the airport was delightful. i sure did miss his smile. in a truly expected fashion, he whisked me into town and bought me a pint at 9 am at the scotsman's lounge, where we talked and smoked cigarettes and drank beers on a barrel in a pub that opened at 6.

i was disoriented and overwhelmed by my surroundings, so i spent a lot of that first day walking uphill quietly, jerking my head around to make sure i wasn't missing anything. the entire fucking city goes uphill all the time, which i got used to, but didn't please me so much when i had 2 bags of shit on my back. i also quickly realized that it was stupid of me not to have bought a carton of american cigarettes before i left virginia. first: they don't have camel lights in the uk. they're camel blues and not quite the same. second, and most importantly: they're fucking 5 quid a pack. that's like $9. bollocks, huh?

we went to see capote that night after a long nap. my critical two cents: fucking brilliant. hoffman deserved that oscar. perhaps the best part about the moviegoing experience (aside from the terrific movie, of course) was the bar in the theatre, and the fact that they'd make you a drink in a plastic cup to take into the movie. i bit my lip and tried not to be an obnoxious american about it; obviously everyone was used to it, but i just wanted to point and shout "look! i'm drinking alcohol in the theatre! and it's not a 6-pack of PBR that i snuck in with my messenger bag!" so i watched truman capote drink a bunch of gin and tonics while sipping on one of my own; too bad you can't smoke in movie theatres any more. also, too bad the shots are smaller (fucking millilitres) in the uk. better to order a double.



on sunday, tom had papers to write. he had to be a student so i had to be a tourist. his dorm is right at the base of arthur's seat, so i hiked up it on account of i thought i oughtta. it was an unusually sunny day and not as cold as it would be later in the week. i wore terrible shoes for hiking; kids, don't plan an extended trip to edinburgh wearing vans slip-ons. nevertheless, i put my face against the wind and climbed that fucker.



the views on the ascent were incredible. being a dump who smokes, i had to stop a time or two to catch my breath, which was fine because everything was gorgeous on the way up. and once you got to the top, yr payoff was gale-force winds taking yr breath away, a beautiful (my camera doesn't do it very much justice) panoramic view of edinbugh and the firth of forth, and tourists asking you, the solitary girl with an ipod and a camera and an unassuming face, to take pictures for them. seriously, the wind was so intense, and i love it when you have to be conscious about breathing, especially when the air is so cold and cutting.



i came down exhilerated and with very chapped lips. i decided to go exploring the strange city, so i picked a street and went straight on it until i felt like turning, then got lost on purpose and tried to find my way back. it was pretty easy (i just looked for arthurs seat; you can pretty much see that and/or the castle from anywhere in town), although i learned that you can't really rely on street names to help much since those change about every block. i fell in love with the city pretty quickly. i love it's walkability; i had my ipod on and fed everything important directly to my ears and eyes, walking up and down streets and taking everything in. the architecture is gorgeous, and in places it's such an urban pastiche. there's kebab shops on fucking every street, and pubs on every other. there's fliers pasted everywhere and vomit on the streets sometimes. i saw a man in a leopard print dress walking down the street shouting, and i saw an english dandy in a 3 piece suit and an ascot on a bicycle with his umbrella and briefcase strapped to the back. i saw grizzly scottish construction workers in their truck singing along to bohemian rhapsody. tom called it a very 3 dimensional city, and i have to agree. the streets wind around each other, up and down hills and over bridges, and it's really interesting to see it all relate once you know where yr going and where you've been.

i think that night we just smoked some pot with his friends and went to sleep early. oh, right, we got pizza, and on our way to get it we ran into a scottish friend of his who told him to "take her to domino's, man. treat her right." fucking mint.

(more to come. digest this for a few days.)