So i was sitting here thinking, I keep giving people the link to the Trip label so they can just see the story, and realized how awkward that is because it's kinda long, but broken into chunks, and sorts with a "newest first" rule, and figured I could re-post the whole thing as one humongous story that's in the right order. Here it is. Enjoy!
I'm going to do this in pieces, to make sure that I'm doing proper justice to everything, and to keep myself from burning out on the memories. That being said, here's the first part of my story.
Jacquii and I left Harrisburg around 3:30 on September 26. Marie's dad had agreed to take us to BWI, and for that I am eternally grateful. My parents were in Georgia for the week, so it saved me the time and expense of parking my car down there while we were gone. We got to the airport around 6, and were able to get seated together on the flight (this had been in question previously because we booked our tickets seperately).
After killing the remaining 2 unbearable hours in the airport, we finally got on the plane, and with the flight attendants we were greeted to our first british accents. They were cute, too, which was a big plus. I was also thrilled to discover that we had our own little video screens in the seatback in front of us, and that along with 18 channels of in-flight programming, there was a real-time map showing exactly where the plane was, how fast the plane was moving, and how long until we got to London. This seemed to make the trip go by faster, because we could actually watch our progress up the coast and across the ocean.
Also, as far as airplane food goes, the meal was quite tasty. In addition to free beer and wine, we had a very palatable lasagna for dinner. However, the flight was very dull, not least because it was overnight and over the ocean, so there was nothing to see. Except, we reached Ireland just about dawn, and, at least from 35K feet, that country is as green as you might imagine.
Not too long after that, we got to England and, more importantly London. Let me tell you, London is a huge, sprawling city. I mean, I knew it was a big place, but I really had no idea until we flew into it. I've been composing this descriptiong since we first landed, and hopefully it will make sense.
Roughly speaking, Heathrow is on the western side of London, and planes land flying East-West. Because we were coming from the West, our pilot took us to the eastern side of the city and executed a banking turn to turn us around. This tipped us up on our side looking right down at the city, for a spectacular view like something from a postcard, with the Thames snaking its way through the middle.
Then, we landed, and that's when the real fun began. I had been saying from the beginning that the hardest part of the whole trip was going to be getting from the airport to the train station in time for the noon train to Edinburgh. All I'm going to say is that our plane was about half an hour
early getting to Heathrow, and we got on the train less than four minutes before it pulled out.
That was a helluva lot of travelling, but we made it, and the rest is a story for another day.
So we get to our hotel in Edinburgh, the
Kenneth Mackenzie Suites, around 6 PM local time on Wednesday. In my head, it's just after 1 PM, and at this point I've been awake for about 30 hours straight. But dammit! I'm in Scotland! So after we get to the room, Jacquii is (wisely) ready to sleep, but I don't want to. I know that I need to, but I don't want to, if that makes any sense. I say cool, I'm just gonna lie down for a few minutes but then I want to go look around. She says I was snoring within seconds, and I believe her. The next thing I know, I'm wide awake and it's 4 AM. She was already up, and they didn't start breakfast until 7, so we decide to do some early morning exploring, and let me say that I'm glad we did. Not 20 feet from the front door of the building, we turn a corner and see
I need to find out the name of that ridge line. I thought it was what's called Arthur's Seat, but I've decided that I'm wrong and haven't gotten around to figuring out what's right. Anyway, there it was. And in the picture, it looks looming and far-off, but I'll tell you, a day or two later when I got a look at it in the afternoon, it's close enough that I could make out the people walking around on top, and tell what color backpacks they were carrying.
We walked towards it, and there was a walking trail that went around a little bit, and came back up through the university. (Our hotel is actually on the campus of the University of Edinburgh, and the buildings on the left side of that picture are some of the dorms.) We spent a couple hours doing that, and then headed back for breakfast.
Ah, the breakfast. That first morning was the one and only time we went for the "full Scottish breakfast." This consisted of a sausage link, a barely cooked piece of what Americans call "Canadian bacon" but was all they had as bacon anywhere over there, two fried eggs, a McDonald's-style hash brown, half a grilled tomato, two grilled mushrooms, and a scoop of baked beans. All with absolutely no seasoning. Those of you who've known me for any length of time know that I do not salt my food. In this case, I was forced to. There was no seasoning to any of it. That plate of food, except for the mushrooms, had no flavor to it at all. That was also the first of many cups of coffee that I had on this trip. I'm not a coffee person, but when soda is the equivalent of $2 for a 16 oz. bottle, but they can't throw enough free coffee at you, you learn very quickly to get your caffeine where you can.
After breakfast, we headed into town. The main drag, as it were, in the touristy part of Edinburgh at least, is called the Royal Mile. It's called this for two reasons - it's about a mile long, and at one end (on top of the hill) is Edinburgh Castle, and at the other end (bottom of the hill) is the Palace of Hollyrood House, which is the official royal residence in the city for the Queen. (Side trivia: "Rood" is an old Gaelic word for 'cross', so in modern terms it's the Holy Cross Palace).
The castle was my main goal in Edinburgh, so we turned up hill and wandered. We passed St. Giles Cathedral, we passed numerous shops, with many straightforward names (The Cashmere Store, The Kilt Store, The Scottish Shop, for example, making me think they put as much imagination into naming their stores as they do seasoning their food), and, in another of a long string of fortuitous timings, got to the castle at exactly 10 AM, just as they were opening up.
The castle was an impressive thing. Just to throw some numbers at you, it's built on a rock that is the highest point for miles, and from the top you can see something like 100 miles to the South, which was the direction they were most concerned with when they built it to defend against the British. Humans have inhabited the rock for thousands of years, and St. Margaret's Chapel, the oldest and highest part of the castle, dates back about 1100 years. It's
old and I could feel it. It's also cold, from the outside bits at least. You could sort of tell that it was built to put up a fight, and to hell with details like looking pretty. The tour guide did point out some of the more recent aesthetic decorations, like the main gate house, that had been rebuilt since Scotland and Britain had been joined together and so didn't need so much in the way of protection. Beyond that, I"m going to let my pictures speak for me.
I created an
album courtesy of Picasa, and they're all loaded there with little captions and everything. The rest of Thursday daylight consisted of more wandering around Edinburgh, and a nice afternoon nap.
Coming soon: Thursday night, and Absinthe. :)
The journey continues...
After the sightseeing of Thursday morning, we got some lunch at a pub on the Royal Mile, which wasn't bad, but wasn't anything to write home about. It was too much, I think, in the heart of the tourist district, and tried a little too hard to be charming for the visitors. Thursday afternoon was more nap time in prep for the evening.
When we finally struck out for dinner, we stepped into the first place that wasn't completely packed. I forget the name, but it struck me as the grad student hang-out, very low key with lots of smart drunk people. And, luckily for us, their kitchen had closed about 15 minutes before we arrived, forcing us back into the street in search of food.
On the same block, two doors away, we saw
Mariachi. It was a mexican restaraunt, and at first we thought they were closed because there was
no one inside. But I tried the door, and it was open, so in we went. They were open, and Jacquii and I were the only two customers for the four people there to take care of. She got to mix her own margarita, and they served the best mexican food I've ever eaten. I assume that at some point they get packed, but I've found at least one other review of this place saying "excellent food, but a little wierd to be the only customers there," so I'm not quite sure what's up with that.
Anyway, food in stomach we hailed a cab for Cowgate. It was crazy close, but on the 'lower level' of the city, and we had no idea how to get there from where we were or, quite frankly, anywhere else.
The club we were heading for was
Opium, a place recomended to us by our friend Josh for their absinthe. So we wander in, and the bartender tells us their out and sends us next door to Subway. So we go next door, and again we're nearly the only people there. All of 6 people were in there, including a very pretty lady behind the bar who asks us if we're sure we want absinthe. We assure her that we do, and she pours us a couple shots.
The stuff practically glows green, like the plutonium rod Homer Simpson takes home with him in the opening credits of The Simpsons. And the taste... my first thought was black licorice, only worse.
Anyway, a couple shots of the stuff and, with potential green fairies in tow we went back to Opium because, aside from the Absinthe and the bar tender, Subway sucked.
This is where I point out for those who don't know that I can't dance. At least, not publicly. When i'm out somewhere that's playing especially good music and i'm exceptionally drunk I do a sort of swaying thing with the music, but that's the extent. I bring this up now because, when I'm talking about the clubs in Edinburgh and I say "we danced" what I really mean is "I enjoyed a beer while Jacquii danced, and I enjoyed the fact that everyone was watching her because she was the hottest person there."
So, back in Opium, 'we' 'danced.' And then we went outside to cool off, and that's where we met Patch and his gang of australian students. Very cool people, and they were on their way further down the street to
Espionage, and asked us to come along. So we followed them, and found a huge club - five floors, 6 bars, two dance floors, and lots of little nooks to just chill in. We ended up closing that place out, drinking and dancing until 3 AM.
I feel like I'm not giving this bit the credit it deserves, but I'm not sure what else to say. We drank, we lost a little of our hearing to blasting 80's dance remixes, she danced, I drank some more. There were Australians, and it kicked ass.
We did, ultimately, manage to find our way home on foot to crash for the night.
Thus endeth the second day of the journey. Leave comments. Tell me I go on too long. Tell me something. And I'll be back with days 3-4 soon.
I realize that I've been typing a
lot so far, but from here on out things are going to be much shorter.
Friday was spent catching up on sleep. There was a little more wandering, I got down to see the
Scottish Parliament, which I had read was a funny looking building, but didn't really believe until I saw it. It sits in the heart of old town, right on the royal mile, surrounded by buildings that are hundreds of years old, and it looks like it was designed by a post-modern architect on acid with a bamboo fetish. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me, so I have to go to Wikipedia to get a picture.
Friday night, it was back to Espionage for more drinking and dancing, with a quick Absinthe stop at Subway first, and then home at 3.
Saturday morning we were up, breakfasted on eggs and toast, and went into town for one last stop at World's End Pub, where we picked up a couple souvenir lighters. Then, it was back to the hotel for checkout and the train ride home.
Funny thing is, the train could have been going through Pennsylvania for the towns we stopped in: Newcastle, Carlisle, York; heck, there's even a London, PA. It was a long trip, though, close to 6 hours, because it was Saturday and they were working on the main line from London to Edinburgh, so we had to go over to Glasgow and down.
Once we were back at Kings Cross station in London, we did the smart thing and took a taxi to our Hotel. Checked in, napped for a couple hours, and then went out to find a nearby italian place with decent food and a surprising house wine. Surprising because it was relatively inexpensive and, after we let it breathe, quite tasty.
See - I can cover two full days in 5 minutes worth of reading. More from London coming soon.
It's strange, sitting here thinking how to continue. Up to this point, I've had a pretty linear narrative. We did this, then that, here's what I thought. But now, I'm back in England. New country, new writing style. Quentin Tarantino taught me 15 years ago that linear is boring, and I'm just now taking his advice.
London was incredible. They have Indian take-away places the way America has Chinese restaurants.
They don't have "Exit" signs; it's always the "Way Out" with an arrow.
The people were friendly, the fashion was stuck in the 80's (I think I saw shoulder pads on a woman's suit once).
And it's huge. I'm trying to dig up numbers now, but I can say it's one of the most metropolitan cities in the world. It might even have NYC beat out.
We hit the big tourist spots - Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben (actually, it's St. Stephen's Tower. Big Ben is just the name of the bell inside the clock), Piccadilly Circus, National Gallery, the British Museum (I got to see the Rosetta stone, which I've wanted to see since I was in the fourth grade).
We decided on Indian food one night, and picked the one closest to our hotel right across from Kings Cross station. Greatest food I've had in a long time, and the best Indian food ever. It even beats out
Passage to India in Harrisburg, and that's my favorite restaurant in Harrisburg. This place was so good, we went back again before we left.
We also saw two shows in West End,
Wicked, the Untold Story of the Witches of Oz, and
Avenue Q, a musical best described as Sesame Street for people in their mid 20's, with puppets that swear. I enjoyed them both, but I gotta say, Wicked was my favorite. The actress playing the lead won a Tony for the role on Broadway, and we were catching the show's opening week in London, so there was an energy all around that just crackled. It was great, and I know that I will not pass through London again without catching a show.
And now I'm going to stop again. One more short post should finish me up, and I'll probably do that tonight.
Labels: The Trip
