Seeing as how I have probably lost all followers with my month long hiyatus, I doubt I am writing this to many people. But, with the failure to blog, I have no written recordings of what I have been doing & so I am going to try and go back to blogging, even if it is only for my own sake.

As many of you are aware, I just spent the last two weeks on spring break with my father! We went to London/England for a week & spent the last week in Ireland. To cover that much in wone blog is going to have to wait a little bit. Me attempting to do it now wont do any of it justice. So, my game plan is to simply start blogging from when I flew in, and just insert a blog about the last month when I get the chance.

Two months. That is all I have left. The return from spring break marked the halfway point for my study abroad trip. It is kind of depressing if I sit down and think about it. I have JUST got into the swing of things, am just getting really close to the friends I have made here & am already getting depressed with the idea of leaving it all. Everyone said to me, “just watch, youre not going to want to leave when the time comes” & they were SO right. But I am lucky, because I had two weeks of traveling around and through all that chaos, it felt like I wasn’t going to go back to Scotland. As if I had left for good already. So, coming back seems like a second try. Like.. “ok, now you know what it feels like when you really do leave, so its time to make it up and do everything you can!” Thus, Erin & I have a new outlook and mission for the remaining two months: Do it all. We had our test run, now its time to make it everything it should be!

The first day & a half has been a success with that! After being exhausted from travelling and airports & shuttles, we get an invite to a bonfire on the beach next to the old course. Despite being exhausted, we decide that we just HAVE to go. So, we trek it over to meet up with some of our friends. We have no idea where they are, but it becomes pretty easy to find a burning bonfire in the pitch dark beach. Despite the lack of marshmellows, it was a successful bonfire. A few of us then decide to go to one of the local pubs where we get a pint & then eventually head toward the union. I am not going to bore you with the particulars of either of these chill sessions, but it was just GREAT to be in such good company! I’m telling you, these guys are HILARIOUS! & that core group of 8 mixed English, Scottish & American guys has turned into our best friends of St. Andrews (:

During our discussions, I find out that St. Andrews has a pier! Ok, where have I been? It is really a long stone wall of sorts extending into the North Sea. So, obviously we decide to trek over there at 3 in the morning to check it out. We go through the cathedral ruins and along the coast until we finally get there. At the end of the pier are large steps that lead directly to the water. I decide, well we might as well touch the water ! so 6 of us go down the steps & upon reaching the end, me and my good friend nic decide… hell. Lets jump into the North Sea, because.. well.. why NOT jump in at nearly 4am!? So, we strip down (conservatively, thank you very much) and prepare ourselves for the freezing plunge. Personally, I didn’t think it was that terrible. I expected icicles, but it was pretty temperately cold. Nick on the other hand BOLTS out! But, OF COURSE, I come to find that somehow my phone ended up in the water, classical me. I wouldn’t expect anything less from myself.

I am in a Bubble. Literally though, I am sitting in this café in the lobby of Erin’s dorm entitled “The Bubble”. Nice bustling place with coffee & baguettes ready at hand, sitting one table away from HILARIOUS bantering British students. I may be creeping, but what better blogging environment would one ask for?

&& So let the blogging begin… emm…. Well basically, since our Lovely disaster at Stirling last Thursday, we have witnessed RAGING pre-puberty Scottish boys, drum-wielding Scotts who wish they were Irish, and a drunk woman LITERALLY crawling onto a bus. Where else could all this take place within the confines of one city, than the looovely GLASGOW! (Which is QUICKLY becoming my favorite city in Scotland, in spite of, or perhaps because of, these epic & hilarious events).

As explained in earlier blogs, or at least an attempt at an explanation, Scotland has not only a huge obsession with Football (Soccer, for you clever Americans) but for two individual Glasgow teams in particular: The Celtic & The Rangers. Apparently, one cannot leave Scotland without going to witness yourself, one of these epic teams at play. So, Saturday was the day that Mike, Erin & I bought tickets with the infamous Joshua Hannah to go to Celtic Park & watch our FIRST SCOTTISH SOCCER GAME!

So, on a beautiful Saturday morning, Erin & I trek it to the St Andrews bus station in hope that Michael Gilmartin has actually woken up this time to make the bus. It can be summed up in Erin’s statement “I am going to be pissed if he misses this bus just because we didn’t call him, I’m not his mother!” haa. Coincidence would have it that Michael happened to make it earlier than us & we found him calmly sitting on the bus bench. So, trio reunited, we hopped on an early bus for the 2 ½ hr trip to Glasgow.

As we hop off, 3 hours later, we find a leisure Josh Hannah waiting at the station to greet us. (: This being Mike’s first time to Glasgow, we decided to grab a coffee on Buchanan street (the main shopping mile of Glasgow) & then slowly make our way through the centre of the city to show Mike as much of Glasgow as possible. With so little time, Mike was unable to see my favorite parts of the city, but from what he was able to walk around & witness, I hope he loved! The plan was, to find a bar on the way to the Stadium to witness the crazy fans at their finest, because apparently the walk TO the stadium is supposed to be just as, if not more so, epic as the game itself. After my first Heineken (Yes, Stacey, it was in honor of YOU!) at a posh bar we begin our walk to Celtic Park.

The thing about Celtic Park is that it is located in the WORST part of Glasgow, the “projects” if you will. So, to get the full effect it is necessary to walk to the game with the MASSIVE amounts of people all dressed in Green & White. Within seconds / LITERALLY turning a corner, you exit the nice, posh area of Glas. & enter into what can be perfectly described as the “normal” run-down parts of Detroit. Josh kind of scared us with his tales of blood & chaos we were going to experience in the “projects of Glasgow”, but I REALLY think he underestimated just how AT HOME we can sometimes feel in a Detroit setting. I mean, it was run down, and it was by no means the place you would want to be at night, but having lived in or near Detroit my whole life, by my standards it wasn’t really that bad at all.

My Detroit speech aside, on our walk past the graffiti buildings, deep-fry stands, and carts containing NUMEROUS Celtic green & white paraphernalia, we gradually started becoming immersed into the “Celtic atmosphere” that is so widely known and loved. It is as if the further and further you walk into the “ghetto”, the more and more Irish these Scotts wish they were. The Celtic team being originally an Irish team, obviously their colors, chants, emblems all resemble Ireland / Irish culture. So, it came to no surprise when we walked into this hole in the wall bar (I WAS SOOO EXCITED FOR THIS! Perhaps, moreso than the game itself! To be with the native Celtics (; It took SOOOOOO much convincing to allow cautious Josh Hannah to allow us “American naïve byrds” to enter a REAL Celtic Bar, with REAL crazy fans. My vote was to enter the bar (pictured to the left) across the street that his father specifically told him NOT to take us too… for “our own safety”, PSHH! I can take a few drunk Celtic fans! All for the more authentic experience, I say. But, in that argument: I lost. So in we go, to the SECOND best “Celtic looking” bar I could find) I was not disappointed. This TINY wee bar held not only men garbed in the green & white stripes, but also a BAND of sorts, composed of drunk Scotts carrying HUGE drums and fiddle/whistle things. So, we spent the next 20minutes listening to these crazy fans/band singing chants to a very Irish sounding band, all the while Josh was eying every person in the place. Our scout for danger, I suppose. I don’t know if I was being just some naïve American, but I felt as safe as a… well.. just safe. So thanks for the concern cautious Scott, I am sure padre will be thankful. All in all, definitely (most of) the experience I was looking for.

The rest of the walk to the Stadium consisted mostly of one flow of green and white, chaos, and chanting; All in good fun. What surprised me most when we walked up to the stadium was that... well.. you could do just that. There was no outer gate surrounding the structure like in America, and there were no ticket takers to allow access to the building. The ticket part was required when you were trying to enter into the stands. So, we scan our ticket, I get stuck in the turnaround cage access-thing, and we finally make it to our upper level seats. The scott said we had crappy tickets, but I thought they were PERFECT! We had an open view of the ENTIRE field, with little obstruction, surrounded by Celtic loving Scottish men... That’s qualifications for perfect in my book. The experience at the game was such an…amazing one that I am not even going to attempt to describe it. I am sorry. Basics: being surrounded by fans that HEART AND SOUL loved what the team and the game going on in front of us. Whether or not we were into the game, you HAD to be drawn into the genuine passion of it all.

What probably MADE the full experience, were the group of what SOUNDED like post-puberty guys screaming and yelling at every play, every call, and every kick in their AMAZING accented way. The constant soundtrack of “OH FUCK OFF REF! YOU STUPID WANKER!” & the singing of EVERY Celtic song ever created, throughout the ENTIRE game just left Erin & I laughing to ourselves & smiling out right the entire time. We were in heaven, just soaking in the atmosphere. Just perfect Little did we know, that upon turning around to get a glance at these raging fans, we found what looked like pre-puberty 13year olds. An awkward moment, but did not detract from the overall amazingness of their excitement!. In the end, the Celtic ended up wining 2-0, to the crowds GREAT approval. We left the park with nearly every one of our expectations met. No fighting, or masculine-showdowns, but I guess that can wait till the next game.

We gradually follow the crowd and make our way back to the safer posh city-center. We would have called a taxi, but apparently as soon as you mention “The stadium”, they simply say no & proceed to hang-up on you. Before we caught the last bus back home, we walked around the city in an attempt to find some decent food. We ended up settling on some the WORST pizza of my life & seeing the gorgeous string lights located in Glasgow’s square. The trip home was a long one, especially discovering that we had some more pre-teenage Celtic fans, so graciously singing every celtic song (yet again) throughout the entire 2 ½ bus ride.

Despite the loooooong bus rides to and from our near 7hour excursion, it made for a perfect day & such a great experience. Now, it is Wednesday, classes are over & it is time to start the weekend full of essays and Scottish novels. Quiet weekend in St. Andrews, getting ahead on these essays is exactly what we need before our visit from Martyn Elizabeth Fox next week! 5 days, 4 cities in Scotland. BRING IT ON! If this week is productive week(end), then next weekend can be pure entertainment with bestie (:

So, a little insight into the “behind the scenes” of Roni’s blogging: Basically, I feel I need to be extremely caffeinated (to the levels of potential health risks) in order to write an at least semi-entertaining blog. Otherwise I feel it is a wee bit lackluster or just plain dull. Therefore I am two cups of coffee deep and yet still lack any form of inspiration to start my blog or to recount my days. I, therefore, apologize in advance if anyone falls asleep or into a deep un-revivable coma as a result of my subsequent post:

In our “stick it to the man” moment, Erin & I made our first attempt at complete college-student-abroad independence (other than the whole “flying to a separate country” thing) & picked a city on a random bus route & booked a hostel to stay the night there. We figured, well, its SCOTLAND. So, any city we pick HAS to be amazing & gorgeous & full of adventure. Plus, we discovered this city, Stirling, held “one of the largest and most important castles, both historically and architecturally, in Scotland”, as claimed by our good & reliable source Wikipedia. Thus, we thought that this act of independence COULDN’T go wrong. On top of all that epic-ness, our hostel was called “Willy Wallace” (yes, after Mel Gibson in Braveheart… or more historically speaking, his character). But the greatest thing about it was that it looked like a fun house! Purple and Orange walls, posters of everything under the sun hanging up (OBVIOUSLY including a huge-life-size movie poster of braveheart & Mel Gibson & all that is his glorious kilt), and even a hostel dog that just sat on the couch waiting for a walk from one of the poor students residing there.

But I digress (ß FAVORITE word, if not favorite activity), Erin & I woke up sulking but determined, & caught the early bust to Stirling. When attempting to buy a round-trip ticket to Stirling, the girl next to me in line asked in an adorable English accent, “What’s that?” First, I was a little bit confused and was going to respond with some second grade response like “A ticket is a little piece of paper that gets you from one little house to another”. But before I could confusingly respond with my belittling answer, she continues, “Is a Round-trip kind of like a return ticket?”. The pieces clicked JUST in time, and I responded with a classic American answer of “Oh, yeah. I keep assuming most people know what I am talking about. I never knew there was a difference. Etc”. All-in-all, I felt like a class-A idiot for my near-embarrassing-comment and avoided anything that would once again stick me out as obviously being American. Which basically means, I sat with my iPod not opening my mouth for the next two hours. (:

The 2hr bus ride provided the same sights really any bus trip thus far has given us – sheep, occasional horse, lots of green landscape - but to our great surprise, at the very end of the trip we spent a long drive following next to the Ochil Hills. Which, from our low perspective, looked like large, green mountains with fog hiding their peaks. Like I have said before, I would have been MORE than happy to just spend my day climbing those hills and skipping the city and castle all together, but I am pretty sure the bus driver would not have been happy to make such an unplanned stop. So, I stayed on to our final destination.

As we entered the city of Stirling, we noticed a cute Scottish city to our right. It looked basically like a mix of St. Andrews and Edinburgh, but on a much smaller scale. It had a church & steeple in the middle of the city & everything, thus looking very promising from the start. Erin & I, already exhausted and ready to crawl into bed, decided that a coffee was RECQUIRED before we even thought about making our way through the city. So, we stop at what looks like a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop; which, by principle USUALLY has the best coffee. That assumption, Ultimate Fail. Our bad decisions start there. Not only does this little coffee shop not know what an espresso is (Note to café shop, it is NOT, by definition, a cup of watered down coffee), but it had failed to discover the invention of a coffee sleeve. So wielding this tall scalding cup of dark water, all the while being careful not to squeeze it too hard for the top (naturally) does not fit properly, we take our first sip & realize somehow they have managed to infuse a distinct taste of hay into this cup of disaster. Our need for caffeine overcame our gag-reflex and we sat in a nice indoor shop attempting to get warm and prepare ourselves for the upcoming cold stroll through town.

After finishing our coffee, we found our hostel two doors down and attempted to check in. Like I said, the atmosphere definitely promised a great first hostel experience, but after realizing that we could not check in until later, we made the decision to just travel the city until we could. So, we grab a map and randomly pick a direction. Aimlessly wandering a city alone and with nothing but a map to give you at least a sense of where you are, is surprisingly very productive. We realized that without even knowing it, we were on our way to the castle. So, while stopping to take random pictures with cool old things (yes, that is my description, cool old things.) we finally see the castle looming over the highest cliff. Naturally, we are drawn to it and eventually find ourselves successfully standing in front of this (finally) cliché / storybook looking castle.

This castle, as so accurately described by Wikipedia, looks so picture-book that one kind of expects to see Rapunzel chilling in the window of one of the towers. (Although, through sufficient searching and zoomed camera lens, we found her to no avail – Corny joke of the day). There was only one odd aspect to this magnificent picture –all the overweight construction workers sitting around the castle on what I can assume is a smoking break. Yeah, if you ever want a complete fairytale-esque castle quickly ruined, simply place some creepy men in yellow vests eyeing you while you’re attempting to take pictures, not quite the experience I had hoped for. With some more investigation, we realized that we had come during the off-season and that the castle was being remodeled to resemble its prime years during the Renaissance. GREAT in theory, but once one realizes you came a month before it re-opened, kind of a letdown. But, Erin & I were happy enough to have seen it in person, and stood on its outer walls and left not too dejected.

After taking a different route back to the city centre, we came to realize that in our hour or so walk, we had basically saw and walked the entire city and seen or ran into every significant monument that was currently open during the off season. So, while having planned two days and a hostel to visit this gorgeous city, Erin & I had seen the bulk of it in only a few hours. At a loss at what to do to fill the rest of the hours we had, we stopped in a few shops and bought some very cute… souvenirs for ourselves. Ok, a bag/purse may not count as a souvenir, but it being bought in Scotland, I consoled myself with the fact that by definition it was. (Stacey, YOU’D LOVE the bag, fyi. Was considering saving it for you, but I liked it too much and selfish-me popped it’s pretty head. I shall find you an equally awesome bag, I promise).

To quicken this up (My attention span is weaning), after our mini shopping excursion we found ourselves still at a loss to do, but determined to stay strong and stick with our planned trip (especially since every five minutes we were forced to think “what would dad do in a new city”) we walked around the parts of the map that we had yet to hip in our first wandering around.

We had definitely overestimated the size of this city, because after about another 45minutes we were back at square one, with a few more streets stored away in our Stirling memory. So, we asked ourselves the obvious question, “What would any old-fashioned American do, if they had hours of free time on their hands?”. Needless to say, we ended up at the Stirling Cinema and attempted to find a film we had yet seen. So, in summation, we were filling our day in a new Scottish city watching an American film. Father would tear up with pride (probably not). Now, one would THINK that the process of buying a movie ticket would be pretty similar to purchasing one in the US. Nope, complete confusion. I am told that this was simply a weird movie theatre in Stirling, so it must not be taken as a generalization for cinemas in GB. But we found that each movie only played once (or if we were lucky) twice a day and that if you wanted to order a ticket, you had to pick your seat in advance. Pick our seat… assigned seating in a movie theatre. Def. a shocker. Having struggled and being unsuccessful, we finally ordered it from a human being and made it into the theater. To our COMPLETE surprise and nearly tearful happiness, the first fifteen minutes of the film “No Strings Attached” (the only film that was playing at that point in the day) was set at the UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN! Yes, Ashton Kutcher was supposedly a student at UofM & the scene depicted an exaggerated version of a Frat party where EVERYONE was clad in maize and blue and the block M was plastered EVEYWHERE. The repetition of “Ann Arbor” was JUST the little piece of home we needed (:

Two happy hours later, Erin and I left the cinema with the decision that to pay 30 pounds for a hostel in a city that after dark seemed useless to anyone that did NOT feel like sitting in a bar and drinking, was completely unnecessary. So, we saved money by heading to the bus station and catching the last bus back to St. Andrews. Now, I am NOT saying that the entire independent excursion was a complete dud. I am SO happy I got out of St. Andrews and experienced a new city (literally) topped with a castle. But I only wish someone had notified me that it was more of a DAY excursion & not a multiple day affair. Not carrying an overnight bag might have made the situation a lot easier, or at least more agile.

Sleeping in my own StA uncomfortable bed, I realized it was all-in-all a successful and very interesting day.

Today:

Basically, I have spent my entire day drinking Mr. Boylan amounts of coffee and attempting to blog, yet failing. Which I really shouldn’t tell you, because then one looks back at the blog I actually DID just write and expect it to be of epic proportions seeing as how I have literally spent hours of free time on it. Thus, providing a bar for myself that I have obviously failed to reach, and thereby diminishing everything I just accomplished. Some may say I am over thinking this whole thing in the midst of my downward caffeinated spiral, but I think it’s the right amount of analysis to my oh-so-entertaining blog (;

Once again, I apologize for my… very interesting blog this morning. Can’t say it wasn’t entertaining to write it, if not also confusing to read! Good-day all my loved ones & STAY TUNED for my next GREAT ADVENTURE and extremely caffeine inspired rendition of it all! <3>

I love my Scottish Professor, despite the fact that he probably does not like me. To give yourself the visual again, he is a small white haired, beard wielding Scott who not only speaks in a thick Scottish accent but also feels the stereotypical need to wear a tweed jacket & tartan (Scottish plaid) tie to every class. Wednesdays are my favorite of the two class periods, because those days are "discussion days" where we basically sit around and "discuss" the novel we were required to read & subsequently be lectured on that week.

Of course, when I say I "discuss" I do mean he goes from unwilling person to unwilling person and they respond with some generalization about a character that absolutely no one can build on. I mean, I am not sure if its my upbringing as an English student in America, but I have always assumed a class based solely upon discussion of a novel should progress into a debate of sorts. Like "I think this character goes through absolutely no character development and therefore adds absolutely nothing to the novel's plot line", where another person responds "You are complete rubbish, as seen in this passage, he plays the most pivotal role in the novel!" (Or something along those lines). BUT NO, either the teacher kills your point dead by simply stating (literally) "No, you are wrong" OR these students aren't as confrontational or even opinionated about their literary analysis enough to counter any point one might make. Pretty much, in my attempts to create some sort of discussion amongst the individuals just sitting there, I have proven to look like someone who merely disagrees with someone to create conflict. *Roni says something - Awkward Silence - Professor interjects with "No" - End. *

Anyway, of course, I am usually running a few minutes later than everyone else, so Erin & I are forced into the two seats RIGHT beside this little Scott of a professor. Therefore, whenever I find myself attempting to create some reaction with this novel, he has to turn and stare at me, with his tartan tie looming the entire time. I have slowly gotten used to this and created the little pep-talk to myself, "At least I speak up, right?" (I think I even caught him slightly smiling at one of my asserted disagreements directed toward some boring generalization the surprised & scared looking girl across from me said today) But, all in all, I have warmed up to this seemingly harsh profes. and realized that he makes some pretty funny jokes (of those you can catch from his Scottish accented mumbling) that no one (but the wee lass forced to sit directly at his elbow every lecture) really catches these entertaining asides. So, my seemingly hard professor is proving quite entertaining to the trained ear!

His little tartan tie... oh how I love Scotland.

Upon asking ANYONE in St. Andrews, “So, how is Edinburgh?” Their response would ALWAYS be, “It’s just GORGEOUS!” (Unless you’re speaking to someone from England, then its “It’s just LOVELY!”). Ok, St. Andrews residence, SCOTLAND is gorgeous. Can I get a little more distinguishable details on this one place in particular? But, upon seeing the country’s capital myself, I finally understood what they meant. IT IS GORGEOUS. That is all you can say. To attempt to try and explain more would be to detract from… its entire atmosphere. So, this generic and all-encompassing word is basically all you can use to someone to relay just how Amazing Edinburgh really is.

So, summation: Edinburgh is GORGEOUS!

After a late Friday night, Erin, Hannah & I struggled & grumbled out of bed at 7:30am on Saturday to make the early bus to Edinburgh. After some last minute packing, trekking in the rain, a delayed bus and SEVERAL unsuccessful attempts at calling to wake Michael up, we were finally on the bus to Edinburgh: Michael-less. Come to find out an hour into the 1hr 45 min bus ride, Michael had forgot to set an alarm and slept right through the time we were supposed to meet. FAIL GILMARTIN! Seeing the country side of Scotland made the long bus ride a calm and beautiful one. The rain turned to a beautiful sunny day that perfectly illuminated the hills and herds of sheep.

What made the bus ride an experience I will never forget though was what happened near the end. We had about a half hour left until we were in the city, and the bus driver found that there were no more empty seats for a young woman to sit and therefore simply told her she could stand in the back until we got into the city. Fifteen minutes later, with her standing calmly in the back of the bus, an extremely old man (with a tartan/Scottish Plaid bag, of COURSE) turns to the lady looking all distressed. He asks if she would like to sit down, and looks beyond troubled, because he said he had not noticed her sooner and felt terrible for not asking earlier. This old and hunched man truly feels remorseful that he did not ask this teenage girl if she would like to take his seat. I’d hate to make false generalizations based on one man, but it just made me think how differently some people and some places within the United States are from here. Of course there are men that would do this in the United States, I am not COMPLETELY being negative and misunderstanding of the US, but it’s just the sincerity in his eyes that made me feel like this was an unthinking custom for some of these traditional Scottish men, and it touched my heart.

After little sleep the night before, an early wakeup and absolutely no breakfast, once we got into the Edinburgh bus station we decided it was time to get some good ol’ Scottish breakfast and a huge cup of caffeine. So we trekked through the city center lugging our bags in order to find “The Royal Mile”. Once we found the cobblestone street leading up to the historic Edinburgh castle (Royal Mile), we picked a very Scottish looking tavern & ordered our FIRST “Fry up”. This consisted of fried eggs, tomatoes & mushrooms, baked beans and HAGAS! Yes, not only EVERYTHING sopping in grease, but we ordered our first plate of Scottish HAGAS! This is a veeery traditional Scottish dish, and if you are not aware of what is in it, please look it up. I do not want to go into describing it, merely that I was the first to try. (See Video). Despite its ingredients, & my seveeeere apprehension, it wasn’t that bad. It was simply gritty and kind of bland. I am not going to be ordering it again anytime soon, but at least I FINALLY tried it. Scotland would be proud.

After a taste of our Sheep’s bladder & some white coffee, it was time to walk back to the bus station & find Mike, who woke up realizing he missed the bus & was forced by my angry words to hop on another one as soon as possible. After what should have been an hr & 45 min but SOMEHOW took this man a solid 3hrs 15min to arrive, we had our full crew & decided to walk around the city some more before it was time to check into our Holiday Inn haven. Just saying, walking around a large and gorgeous city on a SUNNNY day, hearing a bagpiper on the corner play the soundtrack to your expedition just MAKES YOU FEEL GIDDY!

The beautiful thing about Edinburgh is that while it is one of the oldest and MOST historic cities in Scotland. It is as if the city built itself around that history. Every building you see is older than our entire country, and yet it may hold a drug store or cheap & corny (yet amazing) Scottish souvenir shop. You can stand on the royal mile, look to your right and see the castle looming on the highest hill, and look to your left and see the crags just ASKING to be climbed. Personally, I would rather climb the cregs than see the castle, but seeing the castle of Edinburgh is a MUST, and therefore we went to tour that and save the cliffy mountains for the next time (most likely the main goal of padre’s visit to Edinburgh.

We walked the Prince street gardens and ran across this LARGE and looming monument. We have become quick to learn that the biggest and most austere monuments are usually not dedicated to fighters or politicians, but to Scottish literaries. This one, proved no different. This Large monument was dedicated to the famous Scottish writer Sir Walter Scott, of whose (Thanks to my Scottish fiction class) novel I had JUST read a week prior. (Fun Fact: Sir Walter Scott & his novel Waverly (the novel I finished) was the FIRST historical novel. Way to go sir - literally!) So, seeing as how each one of the three guys we were with were scared of heights, the girls paid the 3 pound entrance fee to be able to climb to the three tiered top. Before the hill we climbed the next day, this view was the provided a 360 view of all of Edinburgh and therefore proved the most beautiful. To reach these three different levels, one had to climb up a small (& I mean TINY. I admit I am a small person, but it was even hard for ME to fit.) spiraling staircase that climbed one of the legs of this standing monument. While up at the highest point, the bagpiper standing at the corner below could still be heard, therefore, we had not only the most beautiful view of all of Edinburgh, but we had a bagpipe to provide the cliché, yet epic soundtrack to our view of one of the most beautiful cities in Scotland. I must say, one of the most valuable three pounds I have ever spent (:

Afterward, the good portion of the day was spent walking around Edinburgh, trying to find mini coffee and Panini shops, and touring the beautiful castle. The castle, sadly, wasn’t EVERYTHING I had anticipated. I expected dark & torn dungeons, concrete walls and battle torn ceilings. But, realistically the place was very tourist-ized & had little cutout figures made to represent the people that lived in it. Not to say it was not very interesting, but definitely not the true rustic feeling I had waited for.

After the touring of the must-see castle, we decided to go visit the sign that Erin had spotted earlier for the “Free Ghost tour”. We figured, whether it was truly scary, or completely rubbish, it would be well worth it. Well, we had actually HOPED it would be cheesy because we thought that would be so much more entertaining than a struggling “scary” one. We were not disappointed. We met a man standing there in a torn vest, tophat and make-shift costume. He claimed to be some dead scottsman, thus starting the amazing ghost tour. As he began the tour he kept claiming “this way mortals” all the while carting around his modern day book bag. Yes, I know, it WAS as amazing as it sounds. The tour was basically us walking within a one block radius to the various historical buildings all the while listening to the true stories of deaths and hangings narrated by this “dead” tour guide. These stories were sprinkled with numerous corny jokes, and fake rats being thrown in surprise. At the end of the tour, we came to find out that this man invented, researched & wrote the entire tour by himself, and lived solely off the donations and profits of the book he had written (similar to the tour). All in all, it was merely a 10pound donation for a very entertaining hour. (:

After the tour, we decided to find a crappy little Italian restaurant with little Italian dishes we could neither read nor recognize. In my opinion, PERFECT ingredients for a dining experience in a foreign city. Being completely exhausted at this point, we then made the decision to hangout in our little yet modern styled hotel room fitting six people on one bed and a fold out couch. I mean, if you can’t do it college style and get a hostel, might as well have the next best thing, right? We decided to experience the other side of Edinburgh and therefore to get all dolled up & attempt to find a club. After dressing in heals and not-so-warm clothing, we spent the next 3hours walking Edinburgh attempting to ask the Edinburgh natives where “George Street” was, getting an indistinguishable answer. Eventually, about 2hours and numerous miles after our expedition started, we found ourselves at the club DIRECTLY across the street from our hotel. Despite the aching feet due to our ill-thought out decision for heals, the rest of the night was very successful and extremely fun! The girls spent the night tearing up the dance floor all in one close knit circle, while the men (following the British custom of NOT dancing) stayed at the bar. After cross-dressers, choking amount of fog, and a continuous mix of journey & British techno, we went home exhausted and completely happy with the way the night turned out!

It was an early morning for us, and after a delicious and all-encompassing continental breakfast, we trekked to the various parts of Edinburgh that we had failed to hit the day before. We could see from our hotel a large hill (Calton hill) in the center of that part of town, with what looked like Greek ruins at the top. Naturally we decided that was our first destination. After some touristy side-track and making our way down windy lanes, we finally found ourselves at the base of the hill. Standing at the top of the “hill” will be one of the most memorable experiences I have had of Scotland thus far. All the monuments to various Scottish writers were well & good, but standing on the edge of this clear field, overlooking both the city & the large cregs, I could not tear myself apart. It is as if you have to stand there for as long as possible in order to try and soak it all in and yet finding it impossible. It was just one of THOSE moments. Inexplicable. To say it took your breath away would be an understatement, and to say it changes one’s perspective would be to belittle it. Basically, anyone who finds themselves in Edinburgh one day MUST make it to the top of Calton Hill. Just look for the Greek styled ruins and you will never forget it.

After that awe-inspiring view, we decided to just walk down the opposite side of the hill and make our way through Edinburgh the most efficient way possible – walk around aimlessly until we hit something of interest. This proved to work, because as we got down the hill and past a few random streets, we nearly literally ran into the Palace where the queen and her royal groupies stay when they find themselves in Scotland. Now the castle was small and kind of house-with-a-fortress-around-it looking, but THIS was a real palace. We decided not to spend the $20 it took to tour the place, but from the information desk and the view through the front-gate, it looks pretty legitimate. What I found most hilarious was a sign the sign in the gift shop that said (paraphrased) “The profits from ticket sales touring the palace and merchandise purchased in the gift shop all go toward sustaining The Queen and her successors. “ (BADLY paraphrased) but basically it was an intelligent, respectable way of saying “All the money from these sales goes toward keeping the Queen and her family rich”. I only wish I had taken a picture, because it was quite an obvious confession.

The remainder of the trip consisted of discovering the coffee shop that JK Rowling wrote the plotline to Harry Potter in (as proclaimed by the sign in the window) & running across the PERFECT little Panini and soup place across the street (: I realized, after catching the bus back to St. Andrews that it was, overall, a quant but successful day!

Edinburgh, you did not prove a disappointment.

Let me explain this to those of you who are not quite up to par on your geography (AKA: Me, before I got to Great Britian). The entire country of Scotland IS NOT that large. On the map and in the hearts of the Scotts, yes it looks like a significantly large land mass. But for perspective, the entire country of Scotland is about the size of the state of South Carolina. Within that small-ish area, most of the country is composed of rolling hills and tiny villages. There are basically only two main & significant cities, Glasgow & Edinburgh & after visiting those you must see the Highlands, and if you’re lucky enough, some of the Scottish Isles. After those main areas are proudly hit, you have basically experienced the bulk of Scotland.

I tell you these little facts, merely to gain some perspective to what I am about to say. Today marks ONE MONTH since Erin & I have landed in this GORGEOUS country. One month ago, we were hopping off our airport shuttle and feeling completely lost in this tiny town. One month ago, we started at point zero, with an entire list of aspirations for this trip.

Looking back, for a minute I was feeling really disappointed with myself. In one month, I know more people that would have seen so much more of a country than I have. In one month, I feel they would have thought themselves having been keen travellers of Rome, Italy, & all of Scotland. But then I gained some perspective, just the kind of perspective that I detailed above. Amongst classes, homework and adapting to a new city, I have already seen those two significant cities, become comfortable in my own city, seen the rolling hills of the country side, travelled the span of Scotland to its opposite coast, and have already set in motion plans for my trip to the Highlands & multiple Isles off of the coast. I have tried my first taste of Hagas, am soon to see a real football (soccer) game, explored a castle and so much more. For one month, while fighting an interesting class schedule, Erin Marie & I have been quite successful in seeing the main parts of Scotland & beyond. We have already planned a camping trip to a secluded beach on an Isle of Scotland, an excursion involving rafting & jumping off a cliff (of sorts) & have booked our first Hostel stay near another epic castle.

Needless to say, I am proud of us (: & am SOO excited with what the next 3 months will bring. I did all that, in my adjustment period. Imagine what is going to get accomplished in the upcoming months with spring break, friend & family visits, extended weekends, Italy, Ireland & England etc. I say, BRING IT ON SCOTLAND and their European Counterparts! You’re no match for the wee Cavanagh twins (;

This was solely my… pep talk to myself. Thought, might as well psych myself up on a public forum. Thanks for bearing with me & wish us luck in all that we wish to accomplish in the (seemingly) short period we have left! <3

How often is it that you find yourself in Scotland, at the exact same University the Prince of England and his fiancé first met, on the day that these two return for the first time since their graduation? Not very often, I assure you. And yet the entire city was in an uproar (ok, we are such a small city that it wasn’t quite an UPROAR, but merely a small chaotic crowd) because Prince William and Kate Middleton were arriving to celebrate the 600^th birthday of their alma mater, St Andrews University. Despite the fact that no one knew exactly at what time the royal couple were going to exit the quad & therefore say hello to the general public, Erin & I took a leap of faith and walked over to the Uni quad around noon.

Disclaimer: Yes father, Erin & I were thinking the ENTIRE time how not only your “Cavanagh luck” of precision & determination ALWAYS places you at the right spot at the right time. We had no choice but to think of how wrongly we went about the entire event and how persistent you would have been to shake the hand of the next sovereign in line. So, as you continue please do not disown us as your children.

My entire street has been blocked off for days, so we felt it was a safe guess to follow now only the barricades but also the police and crowd. To our huge regret of not camping out at 9am (as my father would have insisted), we found ourselves at the BACK of a huge cluster of people RIGHT as we heard bagpipes and a succession of cheers. We were there, standing 10 feet away from the ROYAL COUPLE, literally hearing people yell “Kate’s in a red dress!” & “He shook my hand!”, and yet having absolutely NO view to this historical event. (Dad, don’t pass out). So, seeing as how our little selves were NEVER going to battle the crowd, we thought it was a smart plan to secure a spot next to the barricaded street so that when the couple does their obligatory round of shaking hands, we would be primarily placed. Yet, to our even worse luck, they went THE OTHER way down the street shaking hands and ignoring screams of “ABDICATE!” & “Princes kill children” from the scary looking individuals amongst the crowd.

But, to our own credit, while many people were abandoning their stations in disappointment, we noticed that the police were still sticking around and ensuring that no one overtook the barricade. This became an obvious sign that EVENTUALLY the couple had to double around and head our way. Plus, it is the only direction that leads out of town, thus ensuring that it was necessary to pass us to escape St. Andrews. After a half hour of waiting and admiring the yellow Scottish speaking policeman, we begin to hear cheering & I get my high speed camera to start. In the blink of an eye, three range rovers pass and the crowd disperses. WITHIN MOMENTS! Erin & I didn’t even know what had happened before the realization that we just saw the Prince in a range rover pass by. LUCKILY I had my camera on a setting that caught second by second frame and upon a second glance it caught a picture of what I can assume is the Prince chilling in his SUV. I am attempting now to create a “movie/slideshow” of sorts that shows the movement of the three cars, but for now this is the picture that I am happy to assume is the Prince himself (:

To my Pure jealousy & resentment: After the crowd disperses we find our friend Mike and he continues to tell us that “on his way to find the financial building, I saw a crowd and thought I might as well go see what it is.” He then “finds himself” front row to the barricade that nearly 10minutes later the prince passes by within five feet of him. The prince shook the hand of the guy directly next to Mike. WOOOOOW MICHAEL! I AM GOING TO STRANGLE YOU! He even forgot his camera… the world is not fair.