Inverness
Last weekend... in a last minute effort to get out of Edinburgh... I stayed up until about 2 on Friday night searching for somewhere to go. I strongly regretted the decision to stay up so late when I woke up at 6:50am, threw a handful of essentials into a tote bag and headed to the bus stop at 7:30. I took the bus to town and then boarded a coach bus at 8:00 am and headed for the Scottish Highlands. I ended my journey in the small town of Inverness, which is famous for it's well known mascot The Loch Ness Monster. I had been to Inverness before with my friend Jamie who came to visit me in 2004 when I was studying abroad and we both loved the city. Of course we ventured onto a boat in search of Nessie who we were sure was lurking deep beneath the black waters of the lake. Unfortunately our numerous rolls of film did not prove to show us Nessie's face, and thus we didn't stumble into a small fortune selling them to local newspapers like we had hoped.Anyway- so when I was up searching on Friday night... I remembered how much I loved the city and decided to spend the weekend there again. Coming through the bus stop at lunchtime made me feel like I was just there last week. Its so amazing how things can be filed away in your brain.. then in an instant they can all come rushing back into crystal clear view. Jamie and I only visited for 2 days, but somehow I remember everything... our little cozy hostel, the shops along the river, the Italian place we ate dinner, and the castle of course. I instantly knew all of the roads and where they led to and I remembered the hidden Victoria mall (which housed the candy shoppe that I recalled so well). And I remembered exactly the sidewalks, shortcuts and stairways to take to get to the hostel that Jamie and I stayed at 3 years ago. I also quickly found my way to the river where I parked my sore volleyball bum and simply watched... the water, the people, the town, the cars, the seagulls.
So I have an actual journal that travels with me, (in addition to this electronic journal) and for obvious reasons I tend to write in it more when I am traveling. I also have a handy red notebook about the size of a pack of index cards that I take with me. The red notebook stays in my purse on a daily basis and is for random things like lists of things I need to do, something that triggers a memory of someone back home, something to Google, a book I want to buy, a movie I want to see, a quote I want to remember, etc. Its filled with pages of things with no rhyme or reason- other than I just need a place to write them down. In the rare event that the red notebook is removed from my purse- I inevitably find something that I want to write down, and thus have to scramble to find substitute places to write. Then the notes find themselves scribbled on the back of receipts, bus tickets, maps, etc. The true sign of a good trip is when I dig into my purse in search of chap stick or my cell phone, and can't seem to find my way amidst all the notes that have littered my bag. This was such a trip.
I decided that it was time that I treated myself to a proper dinner. I haven't eaten out since Austria (if my memory serves me correctly), and it was high time to order from a MENU. Oddly- or maybe purposely- I ate at the same Italian place that Jamie and I dined. Maybe I wanted Italian, maybe I subconsciously remember liking the food, maybe my feet were tired and I simply couldn't walk any further than that particular restaurant, or maybe I am just a creature of habit.There is an art to eating alone, and although by no means have I mastered it, I can hold my own. At first when I would try to do things like go to the cinema or a restraint alone, sometimes I would think, 'should I just say table for two and then pretend that my significant other couldn't make it.' Or else I would take a book and stick my nose so far into it as if to signal to the rest of the world that there is no way I could possibly have company now because I am just at the best part of the book, and I couldn't be bothered to have small talk with someone right now. Or I would hope that they put me in the smallest table that is so far in the back of the restaurant its virtually in the kitchen so that no one would see me eating alone. But eventually you get better at it, and you leave the book at home, and you say 'table for 1,' and when given a choice you choose the window table so that you can people watch, and mostly you become more confident in yourself. I don't know why there is a stigma attached to doing things alone... it is as if people think that if you are alone that you have absolutely no friends or family in the world (which clearly isn't the case... they just don't reside in the same country as me at the moment). Nonetheless, I have a tremendous amount of respect for people that I see eating or going to the theater alone (and not just because I do it :)
Anyway- I ordered the things that sounded the most tasty on the menu, and when my food came out it smelled absolutely gorgeous and looked even better. I can't think of a word more descriptive than delicious... but if there is one... that is how I would describe my meal. The two best descriptors I could come up with are:1.In sign language- to express a love for food you bring a raised fist up to your mouth and kiss the back of your hand. That is how it tasted.2. When we were in Australia to say we ate out 3 times may be an overstatement. Whenever we had the free time, the girls and I would most certainly seek out a restaurant. Most often, when we had something that was really good, we would claim 'it tastes like heaven in my mouth.' That's how my pasta tasted.The good thing was that I went for an early dinner at about 3, so I took my leftovers back to the hostel to eat for a midnight snack. Feeling guilty after I left the restaurant for consuming so much pasta, bread and creamy wine sauce, I decided to visit the local grocery store to get some fruit (and a chocolate mousse dessert) to eat that night. I strolled down one of the pedestrian streets and cozied up to a park bench where I enjoyed my chocolate mousse (it just couldn't wait) and the beautiful sounds of the bagpiper playing in the street. It was at that moment... when I was completely full, but still stuffing myself with chocolate mousse, tapping my feet to the music of the bagpiper, basking in the warm Scottish sun, that I thought 'I will never get sick of traveling.'I know it probably seems that I talk about food a lot, but in all fairness that is one of the three essential things to every traveler. Number one is shelter. Number two is food. And number three is sightseeing. I guess I don't talk about the places I sleep very much because they are not nearly as fun to write about as food and sights are.My time was short in Inverness, but both Saturday and Sunday were absolutely beautiful. Saturday night I sat atop the castle grounds to watch the sunset over the distant hills before heading back to the hostel. I met two girls who were from England traveling on their school holiday and one guy from England doing the same. The four of us got to talking and soon were headed out the hostel doors to the nearest watering hole for some drinks. Traveling is one of the only instances I can think of when you meet someone, exchange life stories, tell them things that even some of your best friends don't know about you, and then never see them again in your life. One of my favorite things to do is to eavesdrop on other peoples conversations on trains or buses or planes when they chat like they are going to be best friends forever...yet never see each other beyond baggage claim. Anyway- I had a good time with my new 'friends' however the chances of me ever seeing any of them again are slim to none. Sunday was beautiful as well- and I thoroughly enjoyed that none of the shops were open because it gave me the opportunity to sit along the river again and soak in the city. And of course since it was Sunday, the church bells were ringing throughout the town all morning long. I headed back towards the bus stop with enough time for me to take the long way so that I could pass by each of the great shops, cafes and churches in town. I passed by the Nickle and Dime shop (literally that's what its called) where I fondly remember buying headphones when I was here with Jamie because mine were broken and I wanted to listen to my CD walkman on the train ride home (GASP... A walkman?? I haven't heard that term in ages. You know- the big things that are so convenient to travel with because they pack well- especially if you carry a large CD case as well... which I did. Thankfully this time I didn't need new headphones... and I also have joined the 21st century and have purchased an ipod since then.) I boarded the bus just after lunchtime- which was convenient because it coincided with the afternoon nap I had planned- and headed back to Edinburgh. I think to some extent... you are either a country person or a city person (arguably I suppose you could be an inbetweener and be a suburbs person). But I don't think you necessarily pick it... I think it picks you. I'm a country person- and I think I would fail miserably as a city person (which is odd because I am right now living in the capital city of Scotland...). Anyway- I almost couldn't take a nap because I was so smitten with the beautiful views of the countryside from the bus window. As I selected the 'country' genre from ipod, I gazed out the window at the sun spilling across the hills and valleys and lakes and horses and rivers and I thought... I love the country.
On the court
So last night I finally made it to volleyball. I had looked when I first arrived here for recreation clubs and leisure centers that had open volleyball courts... but couldn't find any. Jane took a look online and ended up speaking to a guy who said that a group of people played on Thursday nights. I was thrilled- but because of working I couldn't make it until last night. I was a little nervous because honestly I wasn't sure it was the same game. I did my research online and saw through pictures that they used the same ball and same net... so I figured anything else would be minor differences. After a long series of jumbling cars and bus schedules, I finally set out last night at about 7:30 to drive to the gym. Keep in mind about 0% of the driving I have done on my own while here has been during the night. Anywhere I go at night I usually take the bus or get a ride...so I was driving to a part of town I had never been in, to a gym I didn't know, in the dark, driving on the wrong side of the road. (I suppose all of my efforts were concentrated on driving, thus the nervousness didn't set in until I was walking from the parking lot to the gym doors). Anyway- with my handy Edinburgh road map in hand (which I triple checked at every stoplight to make sure I was traveling in the right path) I made it safely to the gym. I don't know if it is fair to say this or not... but I've noticed that people are conservative here (except on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights), but honestly- anyone that I have seen working out here (running, biking, skipping rope, etc) have all been wearing pants (and the weather is nice... so they could have worn shorts). Not to mention the fact that I had to ponder around 3 athletic/department stores to find women's shorts. So I wasn't sure if this was going to be a pant-playing volleyball day or a short-wearing volleyball day (to solve this problem, I brought both in my bag, waited until I got into the gym, surveyed all of the other girls to see what they were wearing, took my shorts to the locker room and changed). The girls (although I was expecting co-ed) were very nice and we chatted for a bit before taking the court. As I was waiting for someone to pick teams or split the group up... the girls started running laps. So I thought 'ok- they're warming up... join in.' Then, much to my surprise... a COACH walked in. Yep- so my dream of playing recreational volleyball and having a good time on Thursday nights was quickly shattered when he called us all together and told us the first drill of the night. I quickly realized that this was a volleyball TEAM and that I was some American girl crowding the court. It started off pretty well- I took visual cues from what everyone else was doing, and then would join in myself. Most of the rules are the same- they call positions different things (so when I'm yelling '15' or 'outside' to get set... they have no clue what I'm talking about). For the first 30 minutes, the coach didn't even acknowledge me. We were standing in a circle listening to what he had to say... and he panned the audience about 3 times while he was talking (each time stopping for a long time at my face as if he were thinking 'huh... is she on our team?' but still never stopping to say hi.) It wasn't until after we finished the first few drills that someone else introduced me to him- to which he started telling me that he 'knew I played competitively because of my good form.' Which made me feel good for a second... but still he still hadn't earned my respect. Let me back up a second. Have you ever seen the Mighty Ducks movies? You know the Russian Hockey coach (whose character name has escaped me at the moment)- that's who he reminds me of. Tall, intimidating, always something negative to say. He would call us all together to explain with glee his latest revelation about positioning or footwork or something, as if he invented it and it just came to him (most of which I was taught in my early teen years playing in vball clubs in the states... but of course I wasn't going to rain on his parade). There were many instances when, while he was yelling, I had visions of previous coaches dancing through my head. Unfortunately we only played about 20 minutes of a scrimmage game, the rest was all drills and skills. Anyway- overall I had a good time. Some of the players are actually pretty good. I think there is a solid 7 or 8 girls who play during the matches (yes.. they are a traveling volleyball team... with shirts and everything) The girls generally seem really nice- I think I am the youngest. They invited me back next week, which is good and I think I will continue to go. They have a tournament in a few weeks, after Easter, and a few of the girls asked me to play in it with them (now, I'll have to convince Jane and Malcolm and the boys to come watch!). I was really hoping for a pick up team/open gym night... and maybe I will find one eventually- but for now, this will suit. As I left the gym (and by the way walked to the wrong door to start driving... but thankfully I played it off by putting my bag into the passenger seat, then walking to the other side of the car to start driving) I thought... damn, I'm going to be sore tomorrow.
When in Edinburgh
As in any big town- Edinburgh has many sections or neighborhoods. I live in between Crammond and Barnton, which is on the west side of Edinburgh, and about a 15 minute drive (30 by bus) to the down town area. Now when you say ''I'm going to town'' this most definitely means downtown. If you are going somewhere other than DT, you name that specific neighborhood (even if it is a block away from DT). Anyway- after a short weekend and a long beginning of the week, I had yesterday morning off, so I decided to head to town. (not like it is a rare occasion or uncommon event... I do it about 4 times a week). The predominant reason for going to town was to pick up my bank card from the BUNAC office which had finally arrived after about 3 weeks. As I excitedly walked across the street from the BUNAC office to the Royal Bank of Scotland (posh huh?) I was turned away and told that I couldn't deposit any money into my account without having my passport. I was angry for two reasons... 1 Because who walks around every day with their passport in their pocket? Besides the fact that I emptied my wallet to show my driver's license, student ID and credit cards... they didn't believe me. and 2. I was depositing money.. not taking it out- I don't understand why I couldn't put it IN.
Anyhow- I continued to walk down the Royal Mile and my anger at the bank soon dissipated when I remembered how much I love this city. Every time I go 'to town' I see something I haven't seen before, discover a shop or museum or gallery that I haven't visited. There are so many hidden alleys and passageways and stairways (which all lead to something spectacular... but which you wouldn't know unless you just took the time to explore them). At first glance they look a bit dodgy- just an arched opening between the strings of shops on the Royal Mile. They all have a white metal sign above them, displaying the name of the passageway (which is called a Close), and there is no way you would know the difference between James' Close or Mary King's Close or Brodie's Close or White Horse Close unless you spent a week traveling down each one of them. They lead to amazing tea shops, little courtyards, arcades, fudge shops, and I'm sure many other fantastic things that I haven't discovered yet. It is these little passageways and stairways that make Edinburgh unique to itself.
Today I am housebound with Michael who is 'sick.' He is quite a funny character- and asked me what sort of things we would be doing today (once Mom and Dad left and Ben was at nursery). He suggested many marvelous things; a bike ride, a walk to Lauriston Castle, a play in the yard. I kindly reminded him that his tummy hurt too bad to do those types of things. Instead, after we dropped Ben off at nursery, I dragged Mike along to the post office and the bank (where I was able to deposit money) before heading back home. In the car on the way back he asked me if I had a job. I told him it was him. Anyway- we moved on from that topic to him assuring me that he would be OK if I wanted to take a nap. How kind.
Rugby
My first week with the Holmes family has been fantastic. The week was filled with getting to know my way around Edinburgh and becoming familiar with the streets and sidewalks of this beautiful city. On Friday, Jane and Malcolm were hosting a dinner party- and I spent the day preparing the food with Jane. Their friends were fantastic and we had great food, wine, dessert and conversation. It was refreshing to meet more people from the area, and I had a good time. Earlier in the day while Jane and I were cooking, her cousin Mark stopped by. He was in town for the weekend for the Rugby match on Saturday, and had some extra tickets. Jane took him up on his offer... for me! I didn't know a thing about Rugby, but was eager to learn and excited to be going to the match. So Saturday morning, I rummaged through the house to find some warm clothes and headed out to Murrayfield Stadium for the Scotland-Ireland Rugby match. It was so interesting. Everyone was dressed up too- There was a clear distinction between the Scottish and the Irish. Scottish of course were flying their flag, wearing kilts (not kidding), with a pint of beer in their hands. The Irish were dressed Leprechauns, flying their flag, sporting faces painted with shamrocks, wearing plaid flannel and clutching a pint of Guinness in their hands. At the start of the match, they play the national anthem for both teams, and EVERYBODY (from the respective nation) sings along- its just the music in the background, and the fans supply the vocals. The Irish song was a lot easier to catch on to- (but I wouldn't dare sing 'Ireland, Ireland' in front of Jane's very Scottish family!). I met up with Mark and his friends in the beer tent before we got settled into our seats. Jane's father also attended the game, so he and Mark fielded many questions from me about the sport. It is a lot more violent than American football is... or rather maybe it seems that way because they don't wear any pads or a helmet. Nonetheless... I had a great time. The atmosphere was amazing, and by the end of the match I was starting to understand what was going on. Unfortunately Scotland couldn't pull through, and lost 18-19. Thankfully this didn't stop anyone from the stadium from drinking a few pints afterwards. I don't think that the fans after Packer-Bear games join in unison (literally arm in arm) at the pub after the game... but that wasn't the case here. Scottish and Irish fans alike all headed to the beer tent following the game- and no one cared who supported who- they just wanted to drink! To say the least, I had a great time.Today, Jane and Malcolm headed to England with little Ben for some medical consultations, so I am home with Jack and Michael until Tuesday. During my interview, Jane asked if I had a driver's license, which of course I told her yes, and that I would be happy to drive the children. My first day here last week, I went with her to collect the boys from school and stumbled upon my words when I said, 'Jane- I have to admit that I don't know how to drive a manual car!' She of course laughed and assured me that it would be OK since their other car is automatic (luckily). So- today before they left for the airport, I took the car out for a little drive to get the swing of things. I drove on the wrong side of the road in New Zealand, but thankfully in that case I was driving the second car, which meant we were almost always following our professor who was driving the first van. It is a little trickier when you don't have someone to follow- especially because it was a Sunday morning in Scotland when I was on the roads (which means there is no one to follow!) Anyway- this afternoon I took the boys to the cinema- and Jane laid out the exact roads I should take to get there. The drive there wasn't too bad... I honestly had no clue where I was going, and had never been to that part of town... but after only one (two) wrong turns, we made it only 10 minutes late to the film. The drive home was a different story. It is a lot harder to find your way around a city you don't know at all, in a car you are learning how to drive, with hungry children in the back seat, in the dark. I could feel the grey hair starting to grow on my head. We got a bit more off course on the way home- but thankfully little Michael pointed out the castle (which is one of the big staple sights of Edinburgh and sits atop an enormous hill in the center of town) and I was able to navigate my way back to the house safe and sound. It was at that moment that I thought 'Thank god Edinburgh doesn't have an underground transit system or I would have never been able to find my way back.' As beautiful and as wonderful as London is, I find myself relying solely on the underground system to get around town there. So instead of an above ground view of the city... you tend to take the tube to where you need to be, and then pop above ground for that sight. Thankfully I have relied heavily on the bus system here in Edinburgh- so I am starting to paint a mental map in my head of the town...which is how I knew where to go in a place that I've only been in for a week. Anyway- we made it home in time to feed the little monkeys in the back seat before they wasted away to nothing-- which they assured me they would.
A Home with the Holmes
I am no longer jobless or homeless- which is a good feeling for anyone I would imagine. I moved in Friday with the family I will be working for, The Holmes'. The whole process actually went very quick, which was fantastic. I received a phone call from the Grandmother on Wednesday, who forwarded my number onto her daughter that afternoon. Wednesday at about 4:00 I received a phone call from Jane who wanted to set up a time to meet and suggested that evening. So I hopped on the bus and got to their house at about 6:00 (they live in the outskirts of Edinburgh). I phoned her the next morning to see if we were all on the same page, and to see if they wanted me to come stay with them for a while(which they did), and Friday morning I moved in. I am what is called an 'au pair' which basically is an extra helping hand around the house. I will be doing childcare and housework in exchange for free room and board and a weekly 'salary.' Basically it is about 25-30 hours a week of work around the house plus two nights babysitting. The house is absolutely lovely, and Jane and Malcolm have been so welcoming and accommodating. And I have my own (huge) room and bathroom, which means I am no longer living out of a backpack. They have three boys; Jack (9), Michael (7), and Ben (5). I love spending time with the boys- and I have been busy teaching them American games. Jack the oldest has warmed up to me the most. He is so affectionate and just loves hanging around with me. He told me over the weekend that he was going to learn to talk like me! Jack asks a lot of questions about my family and friends back home, and we have a good time sorting out what each other is saying with our differences in 'slang.' Michael is the middle, and just a barrel of laughs. He is so smart and funny- and loves to be the center of attention. We have a special bond already since he and I are both middle children. Benny is the youngest, and is developmentally delayed. He is in nursery school for about 2 hours every day, so I have been with him quite a bit before and after his school. He is so sweet and so darling, and his smile lights up the room. So I arrived on Friday- spent the day getting acquainted with Jane and the house. Michael was at a sleep over, so Jack and I had the whole night to play together. Saturday night I spent the night with the kids at Jane's parents house (the grandmother that I spoke to on the phone) while Jane and Malcolm attended a dinner party in the area. Sunday I went back into town and did some exploring on my own. Slowly but surely I am getting adjusted to the rules of the house and the family culture here. I've had a great time and am so blessed to have found something so quickly. At first I was going to still search for another part-time job, but Jane and I are still working out if she is going to need me more around here or not. We'll see what the next few days bring me. Until then, I will be busy soaking up all that Scotland has to offer :)
