Edinburgh, Scotland: Joining the Nest

            I have always had a fascination with the bagpipes. I cannot explain why, but I just think it is the coolest, most unique sounding instrument. So naturally, on my first ever trip to Scotland, I was going to find me some bagpipers.

Bagpiper on Princes Street

Around 4pm on Thursday, February 24^th, I got off the plane from Poland and stepped onto Scottish soil. I felt like I had gone to the tropics. No real need for my wool sweater, puffy jacket, three scarves, and heavy boots? Fine by me! Waiting in line to get my passport checked, I shed all the vestiges of my Polish wardrobe (I’m quite sure the agents thought something was wrong with me, as I kept exclaiming how hot it was. In reality, it was 12 degrees), put on my sunglasses, and felt like grabbing a pina colada and heading down to the beach. Once through immigration, I took a bus into town, where I was going to meet Zanna, the girl I would be staying with over the next few days. A good friend of mine, Eliza, who I’ve mentioned before in my London blogs, asked her friend Zanna if she wouldn’t mind having an American refugee staying with her in Edinburgh for a few days. Luckily for me, she didn’t, and during the time I spent in Scotland, we became fast friends.

The milk chocolate ones are
the only ones worth your while.

Upon arrival at Zanna’s apartment, we sat down for a nice cup of tea, had a bit of a chat, and decided to go food shopping for dinner. Trips to the grocery in the UK are pretty much my favorite thing ever, as Eliza can attest to, because it feels the most like home. Note: I love the grocery stores in America. I think they are fantastic. Quite possibly because I hate the ones in France. When I was home for Christmas I would volunteer to go grocery shopping for my mom every day just so I could walk down all the aisles and soak up all the processed goodness that is America. The weirdest things make you miss home, eh? At any rate, I love Tesco’s because I also have a new obsession, thanks to my step dad: McVittie’s digestives. I have a serious bone to pick with whoever made these devilish little pieces of deliciousness. They are addicting. And ever since I brought some home for Frank for Christmas, I decided the next time I went to London I would try them. Well, Mr. McVittie, I have tried them (damn you) and will quite possibly have to have them shipped over to me from London for the rest of my life.

A bit later, over dinner, I got a hearty dose of the Kate and Will fanaticism that is currently gripping the United Kingdom. Not only was there serious desire to catch a glimpse of the royal couple at the St. Andrews fashion show we would be attending on Saturday, but also there was about a 2-hour long discussion about wedding dresses. Moving on from the subject of who is to design Kate’s dress (still a mystery to the British public), the girls then each picked out their own, discussing the advantages and disadvantages of sleeves, straps, sweetheart necklines, and trains. Call me un-girly, if you will, but I have never been one of those girls that dreams about her wedding dress, where she’s going to get married, what the flowers will look like, or any of that business. Probably because I figure I will use my wedding as an excuse to travel to somewhere I’ve never been before…Maldives, anyone? In that case, I better get married soon, or my location will be underwater…

Edinburgh

After an amazing sleep (Zanna has probably the best bed in the entire world, it cannot be contested), Zanna and I woke up early to accomplish our respective goals: mine – sightseeing, hers – essay-writing. In my planning, I had failed to notice that I would be arriving in Edinburgh at the height of dissertation and essay season. Fortunately for me, Zanna was already finished with her dissertation, and her last piece of work would be turned in before my last night in Scotland. So all partying was not lost. As Zanna raced off to the library, I enjoyed a lovely morning at the National Portrait Gallery. One of only five national portrait galleries in the world, the Scottish National Portrait Gallery was built in 1889. All of the staff wears tartan plaid pants or skirts, which I love, and speak with the lilting accent of a true Scotsman (or woman). When you arrive, you are ushered into the first floor Portrait of the Nation exhibit, which is completely devoted to memorializing Scottish identity. There were sections devoted to contributions in science, war, society, politics, writing, etc, each with larger-than-life portraits of the most famous Scots in their fields (enter, Sir Walter Scott). The remaining part of the floor is devoted to European art from the 16^th-19^th centuries. There were works by Rubens, Titian, Velazquez, El Greco, Bernini, Rembrandt, Van Dyck, and JMW Turner. Impressive. In the Italian art section there were some Titians, Raphaels, and Da Vincis, but my favorite section (as always), was the Impressionist and Post-Impressionist section, complete with Cezanne, Degas, Van Gogh, Seurat, Rodin, Monet, Sisley, and Pissarro.

Scott Monument

After roaming the museum for a while, I headed out to what is perhaps the strangest monument dotting Edinburgh’s skyline, the Scott Monument. Designed by George Meikle Kamp, dedicated to Sir Walter Scott, and completed in 1844, this Victorian Gothic monument on Edinburgh’s Princes Street is somewhat of an eyesore. In my opinion, the architecture does not really fit in with the rest of the feel of Edinburgh. However, climbing to the top does give you an incredible vantage point over the city. You can see pretty much everything – from Edinburgh Castle to Calton Hill. The climb up those 287 steps is indeed a workout, and as you exit on each viewing platform (there are 4), it gets progressively windier and windier, until you feel that at the top, you will get completely blown off! The steps up are very skinny and windy, so I asked myself how large men could even fit themselves in here. The answer to that conundrum is that large men probably don’t see the need to climb the Scott Monument. But however ugly and strange this building may be, I have special place in my heart for the Scott Monument because as I exited onto the 4^th viewing platform at the very top, somewhere in the distance, a bagpipe started playing. Looking out at the lush green countryside, the beautiful castle and the sprawling city of Edinburgh, with the bagpipes in the background, well, I knew I was in Scotland.

Greyfriar's Bobby

After my bit of exercise, I crossed over to the Royal Mile, that lovely cobblestoned tourist trap in the heart of Edinburgh. I swear I have never seen more souvenir shops in one place in my life. And cashmere shops, they love cashmere shops. You can also buy your own tartan plaid outfit, if you please. I met Zanna for lunch, and we decided to go to this tiny, hole-in-the-wall, African wrap place called Coffee etc. This is why I love staying with locals. You get to go to the places you otherwise would have missed. And no offense Coffee etc, if no one knew how good you were, I bet some people would be wary to enter, as you don’t exactly scream “amazing Somali wraps found inside.” After lunch, I made Zanna take a detour to the grave of Greyfriar’s Bobby. Never having heard this story before, I made her explain who exactly Bobby was. Apparently, back in the 1850s, this dog Bobby belonged to a man named John Grey, who worked for the Edinburgh City Police. While Grey was alive, the two were inseparable. After Grey died in 1858, Bobby spent 14 years sitting on and guarding Grey’s grave, until he died himself. On the dog’s gravestone it reads, “Let his loyalty and devotion be lesson to us all.”

Edinburgh Castle

As Zanna reentered the library for the better part of the afternoon, I traipsed up to the other end of the Royal Mile to explore Edinburgh Castle. Sitting atop Castle Rock, and providing an amazing view of the city and its surrounding areas (good for a castle, I’d say), it is an impressive sight. Apparently there has been has been a royal castle in this location dating as far back as the reign of David I in the 12^th century. It was used as a Scottish royal residence until the Union of the Crowns in 1603. The castle has played a central role in many Scottish historical conflicts, and it is where James I, son of Mary Queen of Scots, King of Scotland and later King of England, was born. The castle itself contains many different museums, including the Museum of the Royal Scots Regiment and the Scottish National War Museum. It is also home to the crown jewels of Scotland, also known as the Honours of Scotland (of course this was the primary reason for my visit). The crown, sword, and scepter date back to the 15^th and 16^th centuries, and are the oldest set of crown jewels in the United Kingdom. They were used at the coronations of Mary, Queen of Scots, James VI and Charles I. The Stone of Destiny, a block of red sandstone used in the coronation ceremonies of Scottish kings and queens for centuries, is also on display. Today, it is still used in the coronation ceremonies of the Kings of England, and it will be taken and moved down to London for the coronation of England’s next king.

With Zanna at the Sheep's Heid

Not far from the castle is St. Giles Cathedral, a Church of Scotland cathedral on the Royal Mile. Unfortunately the inside was under renovation during my visit, so I wasn’t able to grasp the full atmosphere of this gothic church. I will say something though; it has much less gilding than all of the Polish churches I visited, that is for sure.

After checking this item off of my sightseeing agenda, I retired home for a cup of tea and some McVitties digestives (of course). My feet were hurting after a long day of walking around on cobblestone streets and climbing seemingly endless amounts of stairs, so I welcomed the relaxation. As the girls had to do a bit of work, I settled in with my book, and we called it an early night.

On Saturday, we got up late and went for lunch at Sheep’s Heid, the oldest pub in Scotland. Built in 1360, this pub has had many a famous visitor, including King James VI, Prince Charles, and Sir Walter Scott. The drive to the pub, located not far outside of Edinburgh, was really pretty, as we drove through the crags, by lakes, and through the lush, green, Scottish wilderness. It was a welcome change to the harsh, cold, snow-covered, communist-looking Polish landscape. For lunch, the Sheep’s Heid serves your typical pub fare: fish and chips, haggis and neaps (and don’t even ask, no, I will never try it), sausages, etc. I had a hamburger and a pint of Tennents, which, according to my fellow diners, is essentially the Natty Light of Scotland. I don’t know anything about that, but I found a pint of it quite enjoyable. Afterwards, we only had a few hours to go home, pack up, and get ready for our journey to St. Andrews for the 2011 Fashion Show.

With Cecil at the fashion show

The drive from Edinburgh to St. Andrews was gorgeous. It reminded me much of the drives we used to take around Charlottesville and the Virginian countryside: rolling green hills, farms, beautiful houses, and sunsets that set the mountains on fire. When we arrived, the normally sleepy little university town was anything but sleepy. There were massive tents set up, loud music blaring, and lights that shone for probably a mile away. Students and partiers were making their way down the streets towards the show, which proves to be one of St. Andrews most fun events of the year. Zanna’s friend Nick had organized the entire event, so were lucky enough to score almost-VIP status. We had a table so close to the catwalk you could see the twitch of every muscle in the nervous models’ walks. On top of it, we found complimentary bottles of champagne, the makings for gin and tonics, and gift bags filled with all kinds of health and wellness goodies. The evening was off to a good start. When the lights eventually went down and the DJ started playing from his booth (elevated 12 feet or so above the catwalk), everyone went wild. So much for getting a table, I don’t think we ever sat down. Everyone was up on their feet, dancing to the music, screaming and yelling for their friends in the show, and having an all-around good time. The show itself was pretty incredible. The choreography was well done, you could tell it had been rehearsed numerous times, and everything seemed to go off without a hitch. After it was over, the crowd moved on to the after party that was taking place in an adjacent tent. Blissfully unaware of most of my surroundings, and not thinking I would run into a single person I knew (St. Andrews is a small town and the only people I knew were either with me, or not going to the even at all), I was surprised when I felt an unfamiliar tap on my shoulder. When I turned around, I found it was none other than my Swedish friend Nille, who I had traveled Croatia with this past summer! He had come down to St. Andrews with a bunch of friends just for the event. Small, small world.

FS2011

Sunday morning started late as we relished in the events of the night’s extravagant affair. At noon, starving and desperately needing a Diet Coke, Cecil, one of Zanna’s flatmates, and I wandered into “downtown” St. Andrews to find something to eat. And by downtown, I mean one main street. However, I must admit it pleased me to find that things were open on a Sunday. In France, this would not be the case. We popped into McGregor’s Coffee Shop for a quick panini, which was delicious, before I went off to explore the cathedral area and Cecil went to meet her mom. As I strolled around in the brisk morning air, I soaked up everything this quaint little town had to offer. Not knowing what to expect of the cathedral I had heard so much about, I was somewhat astonished to find that it was not a cathedral at all, but rather cathedral ruins, complete with an impressive graveyard. I walked around the grounds for a bit, and then found my way out around the back, to where a pathway leads down to the pier. The seagulls squawking overhead took me right back to my days as a kid, with summers spent on the shores of Lake Michigan. I adore being near water. Having left my hair down from the night before, and forgetting a hair tie, my jaunt down to the pier was….well, hard to see, as the wind kept whipping my hair into my face. I made it about halfway down, and then decided that it was so cold, and so windy, I had better turn around. I found a bench to sit for a moment, and I noticed how many American, and not British, accents I heard. When I explored the Saint Andrews website for a bit, I found why. There is a specific admissions page dedicated to students from North America. Currently, 15% of the undergraduate student body is from the US or Canada.

St. Andrews, Scotland

Around 1pm we left the beautiful stone buildings and cobblestone streets of St. Andrews to head back to Edinburgh. We had a Scotland vs. Ireland rugby match waiting for us on the television, and these Scots were not about to miss it!

On Monday, as Zanna left to drop off her final paper, I made my way to the Palace of Holyroodhouse, the Queen’s official residence in Scotland. It has been a royal residence for over 500 years, and is still a working palace to this day. As such, tours are only available when the royals are not in residence. The palace itself sits on 650 acres of gardens, with the Salisbury crags providing an amazing view out the left-hand side. Each summer the queen is in residence here, and there are many ceremonies and traditions that take place with her arrival. As you walk into the palace grounds, you notice that it is quite symmetrical, with two large towers on either side. The left-hand tower, as you’re looking at it, is where Mary, Queen of Scots, had her private apartments when she lived in the palace. The way you progress through the palace is along the royal processional route. You go from the grand staircase, decorated with tapestries, paintings, and a portrait of the Queen, to the royal dining room, which can seat up to 30 people. As you approach the chamber where you would meet the king or queen, the rooms get continually grander and grander, with more elaborate plaster moldings on the ceiling, and finer tapestries and paintings on the walls. In the very impressive Great Gallery, there are portraits of all the former kings and queens of Scotland, which decorate the walls from floor to ceiling. After you pass through the Great Gallery you enter a small room, in which there is a display containing the regalia of the Order of the Thistle, the highest order of chivalry in Scotland. Established by James II of England, the Order of the Thistle is comprised of 16 knights who have committed some extraordinary deed for the monarchy. In fact, a member of Zanna’s family was actually part of the Order while he was alive…

Palace of Holyroodhouse

When you enter the private chambers of Mary, Queen of Scots, you will see that they are adorned with relics of the time period, including bejeweled swords and pendants, and some locks of Mary’s hair even kept in a glass case. While you’re walking around this part of the palace, the complimentary audio guide spells out the story of the tragic life of Queen Mary, who was eventually put to death by Elizabeth I for treason. When you exit the palace and the old abbey, you come out into the gardens, which are unfortunately only open in the spring and summer months. These gardens are the site of one of the largest parties in Scotland, the Royal Garden Party, which has over 800 guests. Try getting an invite to that one!

Zanna picked me up from the palace and we went to lunch at a little restaurant called The Outsider to celebrate the end of her academic semester. From our table we had an incredible view of Edinburgh Castle, and it was hard not to appreciate all the history in the place. We toasted Zanna with a few glasses of fizzy elderflower water (possibly the greatest thing since sliced bread…or McVitties digestives, for that matter), and had a great meal.

Me and Zan

Monday night, my last night in Scotland, was too much fun. We went over to a friend’s for drinks, where I instituted fizzy elderflower water as the greatest cocktail mixer of all time. Try it. Seriously. We later made our way to Why Not, a club, and Edinburgh institution, whose VIP section (yes we were in it) is characterized by a giant RedBull fountain. Around 3am, we decided to go home so I could catch a couple hours sleep before my 5am bus to the airport. A flight to Pisa awaited me in the morning, and I will tell you, at 5am, I was less than happy to get on it!