Notes from Glasgow from Canada

2010-03-31T23:14:00.002+01:00

In lieu of actual pictures, an anecdote.

So, I'd be using my faux-Scottish accent -- it may be pretentious, but it was usually unconscious and, if I may say it, rather good -- and people who knew I was from Canada would ask where I was from.

Still using said accent, I would pronounce it exactly (and I have an excellent ear, if poor phonetic typing) the way they did: "Al-BAIR-tah."

Confused look: "Where?"

Patient and measured repetition: "Al-BAIR-tah."

Continued confusion: "Where?"

Giving up, I'd then pronounce it in as Western Canadian an accent as I could muster: "...'lBURDa."

"Ohhh, Al-BAIR-tah!"

"..."

2009-11-19T06:42:00.003Z

You knew Christmas was supposed to be heart-warming. Did you know it could be epic?

Without a doubt, Trans-Siberian Orchestra has the most amazing showmanship I have seen. As to the music itself: you may or may not have noticed that I am, in fact, very good with words. Yet for some reason, I have none.

They did O Fortuna.

O Fortuna!

2009-10-05T01:23:00.007+01:00

What was that about catching up?

If you haven't given up on me entirely, have some more random December pictures; these are when I was walking home after the Christmas banquet.

The clouds were really, really pretty that particular afternoon/evening. The lavender on the left and the pink on the right were on a collision course. It took them a while.

And this is the library across the place where I stayed.

I'm very fond of libraries.

Well... forgive my spelling, but "Sannu, sannu, bata hana zua."

2009-07-15T04:17:00.007+01:00

More random pictures from Glasgow, from December again.

One day I will catch up.

No, really.

Buchanan buskers

2009-07-04T23:36:00.005+01:00

2009-06-23T10:47:00.003+01:00

Boo.

This is the commemorative last post from Scotland.

Well, if you take out the commemorative bit.

Flying home tomorrow afternoon; it'll be about an eight-hour flight, give or take half an hour, so it'll kind of be a long day. If you don't hear from me, it's probably because either security decided I was dangerous ("Why are you carrying candles?" "Just in case there's a blizzard and we get stuck.") or we crashed in a fiery ball of death.

Or because I got home safely. Either way, no worries.

When I get back, I hope to have more time to catch up on recording my adventures -- but on the other hand, I'll have access to video games again.

It's a bit of a toss up, I think.

Anyway, this concludes the Glasgow part of Notes from Glasgow, soon to be continued with Notes from Glasgow from Canada.

Catch you all later with more fuzzy pictures and long-winded anecdotes.

Oh, and depending on how they turned out, I might just have a couple of video clips of buskers on Buchanan Street. Yay, kilts. I mean, bagpipes.

P.S. Irn Bru still tastes like carbonated bubblegum. Moderately tasty carbonated bubblegum, but still flourescent orange carbonated bubblegum.

2009-06-19T09:01:00.003+01:00

I did something interesting the day before yesterday, but I'm not telling you what it is yet.

Ireland was fantastic. I'll have lots to say (and 450+ pictures) on that point later. For now: pretty!

Alas, Jenny is leaving me today, so my attention will be otherwise occupied for another five or six hours. After that, I have to find a new excuse.

Glasgow in the fall (yes, it's been a while)

2009-05-29T15:21:00.011+01:00

Um, have some random pictures of Glasgow from October?

Lazy? Me?

See also: reasons why I shouldn't have a camera.

The last ones are the kind of pictures I prefer to take. Scenery just doesn't compare to tables and chairs.

/facetious

2009-05-26T15:06:00.003+01:00

No pictures again -- I plead Bonhoeffer -- but some fun stuff from today.

We had a service and buffet this afternoon, since it was the last day youthwork students and theology students were in together. Backfire one: theology students didn't have class, so those of us who didn't live upstairs had to come in special. Backfire two: the youthwork students couldn't stay for the buffet, since they had to meet an advisor-ly person.

But it was great fun. Good food. The neat part was the music, though.

Remember when I jabbered on and on about "The Development of Doctrine: the Musical" and the brilliance that was that lecturer? Yeah, he was part of the band.

"Five PhDs and a Piano" (for serious). There weren't that many PhDs there, though. Recording the names here because I know I'll forget: Dr. Martin Spence (church history) on piano; Dr. John Dennis (New Testament) on electric guitar; Mr. Graeme McMeekin (youth work; he guest lectured our class on war ethics) on bass; Alan Guy (first year theology) on drums; Moira Hannan (first year theology) vocals; Alan Harrison (I think) (youth work? second year?) on vocals (he wore sunglasses indoors to fit the part, too).

Yes, I think it's funny to see my lecturers rock out. And awesome; don't forget the awesome.

They did stuff like "Sweet Home Alabama", "Son of a Preacher-Man", and "I'm a Believer", plus a couple I didn't really know, and one that was apparently the themes from Ghostbusters and Blockbuster together. All the musicians were pretty good, but the two doctors really stood out as very talented. It was a lot of fun.

Since I'm more than a little bit nerd, I have a couple videos (haven't checked the quality, but it will suck) on my camera plus a few pictures, and an 18-minute recording on my mp3 player that may be very poor quality, but exists for posterity. And made me grin to listen again.

Plans for Ireland are finally solidifying: Jenny and I plan to spend a week in/near Dublin after my last exam.

Flying home on the 24th of June.

Two more essays, two more exams. So dead.

Also: read Bonhoeffer's Letters and Papers from Prison.

(Did you know he was homeschooled? And that early on he considered pursuing a career in piano? I didn't, but now he's twice as awesome.)

2009-05-13T17:58:00.002+01:00

It'd be much more interesting if I actually had something to say here.

Actually, I just wanted to stop feeling guilty about not saying anything here.

So, no pictures right now, although I forgot in the list before to add Kelvingrove Museum and now the David Livingstone Memorial.

I will get some up, sooner or later, although chronology is frightful. (Most recent, or least? Or just whatever I feel like?) But I have essays I ought to be doing.

Hah.

If all else fails -- which it will -- I'll continue this into the summer (by which time I hope to have Ireland pictures, too), but I'll have to change the blog name and address, because it would be silly and frivolous to post notes from Glasgow on a Glasgow blog when I'm back in Canada.

And I'm never silly and frivolous.

Skye -> Crianlarich

2009-04-15T11:12:00.014+01:00

Believe it or not, folks, this is the end.

Well, there was another day after this one, but the pictures are all gone. These are the last. I'd be sadder if I weren't surprised that I actually managed to finish before the end of the year.

So, the day after Dunvegan, we left Skye, going over roads we'd already covered to get to Crianlarich.

The only new thing of note was Glencoe.

Pretty, pretty region, but that wasn't the reason we stopped there. History lesson very simplified and brief (look up "Glencoe Massacre" for more):

After the Jacobite Uprising, King William offered a pardon to all the Highland clans who'd participated, on the condition that they signed an oath of fealty by January 1, 1692.

The chief of the MacDonalds of Glencoe was late, for reasons of pride, inconvenience, and beaurocracy, but his oath did get to the king -- late.

King William, John Dalrymple (Master of Stair and Lord Advocate -- I don't know what that means, either), and Sir Thomas Livingstone (commander of the forces in Scotland) decided to make an example of them. Sources vary on who had the greatest responsibility in the plot; most of the ones I know hand the blame to Dalrymple.

In January/February 1692, a number of Campbell soldiers -- a clan long at odds with the MacDonalds -- came to Glencoe and were billeted there. On February 12, their commander arrived with their orders.

That night, the soldiers slaughtered their hosts.

Again, sources vary on how many of the soldiers were aware, and how great was their participation. Stories abound of soldiers who warned individual families to leave before the massacre.

38 men died; more than that were killed by exposure when they fled the glen.

Hardly a legendary massacre, right? Among the reasons it's such a big deal is because it was a sick subversion of the old laws of hospitality, it was plotted by the government, and it was sanctioned by the king himself.

Below is the monument to the Glencoe Massacre.

Well, not quite so brief as I'd hoped, but I've always found that piece of history fascinating. For one thing, I read a somewhat romanticized account when I was a kid. For another, it was part of a character's history in George MacDonald's Malcolm, and, apparently, George MacDonald himself traced his history back to it.

Why, yes, I am quite fond of George MacDonald. How did you know?

Back to travelling, there really isn't much more to say. We went on to Crianlarich, and in the morning, we headed back to Glasgow. We stopped by Loch Lomond on the last day, but the weather was poor and I was tired, so there are (alas!) no pictures.

And that was our Scotland trip, Sept. 9-19, 2008.

Don't worry, though: I have lots more to add to this. Since coming here, I've walked along the Forth and Clyde Canal, seen the Falkirk Wheel, visited Mugdock Park and New Lanark, and returned to Loch Ness. I have lots more pictures to add.

Later, though. This morning, it was either this or my essay. Guess which took priority?

Skye (the rest of it)

2009-04-14T11:56:00.012+01:00

My only excuse for the long delays is that it takes effort to be this witty.

Really.

So, post-Dunvegan, we drove east and then north to follow the coast of the Trotternish peninsula. First stop was the Skye Museum of Island Life: seven old-fashioned thatch cottages, each built and furnished to represent an aspect of life for the people of Skye.

Yet again, no pictures inside, I'm afraid. Was very interesting, though: each cottage had a different theme: among the ones I remember were a kitchen and bedroom, a smithy, a weaver's cottage, a barn, and a ceilidh house. Each was furnished and filled with tools and items that would have been in use through different eras.

There were also wax dummies. Some of them were slightly menacing.

This one, I do remember, was the ceilidh house. It had a number of historical documents and photographs chronicling the history of Skye, as well as more wax dummies and their instruments.

It also had a hot soup machine.

Not very historical, that bit.

And more obligatory coast shots.

C'mon, it's a pretty coast.

I'm not sure Mom liked the driving as much as I did; that was just about my favourite part, because I got to sit back and watch all the pretty scenery (and occasionally clamour to stop and take pictures) without any effort on my part.

All holidays should work like that.

Unfortunately, I don't seem to have any pictures of the road here. It was one heck of a road. I have complained aforetimes, remember, of the quality of the roads in the Highlands and on Skye, and the lack of actual road-qualities thereof. This one was just plain fun: same kind of road, yes, but by far and above the steepest I'd ever met. I think. To my memory, anyway.

The destination of said road was the Quiraing: a landslip with some extraordinarily unique formations. After we drove up the tiny steep road (I found it fun; I doubt Mom did), we came to a nice flat space to park and wander off. Naturally, we did.

I'm going to let the pictures speak for themselves, here.

If you're not very good at interpreting photographs, though, I'll translate for you:

Pretty.

Unfortunately, it was getting late into the afternoon by this time and fairly chill to boot, so we couldn't follow the path all the way up to the Quiraing bits. Still, was a lovely walk, and the play of light and shadow across the landscape was fun to watch, even if my photography skills weren't up to the task of recording it.

Speaking of which, we were trotting along this lovely little path, me snapping away with my little digital camera, and we came across a gentleman with a real camera. If he wasn't a professional, he came awfully close. That was quite a piece of equipment.

My camera got embarrassed and hid for a while after that. Poor camera.

This is the path we followed. It was very narrow, but really quite comfortable. No real fear of falling. I had a great deal of fun jumping over the clefts and rocks and puddles in the way.

Nobody should ever have to grow up.

After the Quiraing, we still had quite a way to travel before we returned to the hostel: complete the coastline of the Trotternish, and then pass through Portree (that's where the ten percent of reasonable road was, in case you wondered), and then... actually, I don't know how we got back to Glenbrittle. We just did, okay?

Anyway, on the way, we made one last stop: Kilt Rock and Mealt Falls.

Again, the day was passing on, so we didn't have too much time, but there was quite enough for me to go camera-happy again (my camera had since recovered from its sudden attack of inferiority on the Quiraing path).

I don't have much to say here, really: there was a path, but it was mostly flooded, so we only wandered along the (very long) pre-path parking area stuffs. Pretty, pretty rocks, though, and, for once, a real waterfall.

And that's that.

I'm on Easter break right now. Started it off by going to Loch Ness and spending four full days there, all by myself. Aren't you proud of me?

I'll have to stick that up here eventually, but as there are 543 unsorted pictures, that will definitely take a while.

Hey, there are even a few of me in there. Isn't that neat?

Back to essays tomorrow. (Actually, the next day, because I'm a terrible person: that leaves me exactly a week to finish it. Wonderful.)

Cheers.

Skye (Dunvegan)

2009-03-08T17:24:00.041Z

I think I said some time back that, at this rate, a ten-day trip will take me several months to chronicle.

I have no further comment on that point, actually.

Right, no pictures of the Skye hostel, I'm afraid. Shame. Here's a compensation pic of the view from the front door, though. As I said before, it was in a valley. Rather bleak area, really: no view of the sea, very little green, all giant hills. The one you can see in the upper right was, I believe, one of the two such geographical features I deigned to designate a "real mountain" in Scotland.

You didn't know I was geographically biased, did you?

Obligatory shot of coastline from the road. We stopped a lot.

Also, the clouds you see? Those were there the whole time we were on Skye. Still a pretty place, but the sun shone more in Wales.

Admittedly, that was a fourteen-day sample, not a three-day one, but I digress.

If you haven't figured out by now that digression is half the point of this blog, I'm not sure why you're still reading. After all, this wouldn't be half so funny without it, right?

Right?

So this is Dunvegan Castle. Not a particularly interesting castle in comparison with, say, Eilean Donan, but rather nice. As I recall, it was similarly furnished and refurbished -- not to that quality, but certainly better than, say, Castle Menzies with the Ghastly Pink Drawing Room.

It was a hall, and not that ghastly, but I never pass up an opportunity for an obscure reference.

Braemar Castle, on the other hand was Ghastly Pink Full Stop.

Once again, a place where inside photographs were discouraged -- unfortunate, because my memory is already failing on that point: I do recall a rather magnificent series of paintings. The front room was pretty impressive in its own right; quite a grand staircase, a couple of inaccessable lofts with well-placed paintings and mirrors, et cetera.

Aside: one of my lecturers -- the only American one this semester -- has a terrible habit of saying "ekcetra". I'm fighting the urge to correct him.

Lots of views from the outdoorsy bits, though, because everything's prettier with castles.

Or possibly from?

Unfortuntately, I don't actually have that many pictures of the castle's exterior, either. I think I was being lazy on Skye, I think. Only seventy-seven pictures that day.

Still, have some clouds.

The lighting may be poor, but you have to admit that's a pretty impressive entrance.

As an incidental, my vocabulary and syntax will probably deteriorate in this particular entry. I started this hours ago and at this point, my thinking is tea-fueled. As certain friends will quickly point out, it's a very enjoyable state, but a very, very strange one.

I don't feel particularly inclined to provide evidence for that statement. Although I will give you a word: canasta.

So, Dunvegan may have had an impressive front and good refurbishing, but that could hardly compare to Eilean Donan, yes?

Well, Dunvegan did have one advantage: extensive grounds.

We got lost in the gardens several times.

I can't even remember the names of all the gardens. There was a walled garden and water garden, certainly. Here's a picture of the wheel one, which was probably called something else.

It's much cooler from overhead than on the ground.

Also, yes, that is the castle you can see in the background. The grounds are really that big, and nearly all cultured gardens.

Obligatory flower picture. I like flowers. Don't you?

And some out-of-order castle pictures, because I may be lazy at chronicling, but I'm even lazier at formatting.

And because cannons are important.

In a mildly amusing side note, the water garden's waterfall was slightly more substantial than Shin Falls.

Exaggeration, but I was generally unimpressed with Shin Falls insofar as the "falls" part.

Geographically biased, remember?

You may have noticed that, comparatively, this entry isn't obnoxiously long. This is because I'm being lazy again and splitting this into several entries again. The rest of the day may take a few months to get up, given my record.

For those keeping track, this is September 17th.

Meantime, have a cute little bird:

<- Skye (Sleat)

2009-02-14T17:23:00.008Z

See, I told you I'd get around to this part eventually.

Two months after I started the post is still 'getting around to it.' Very, in fact.

Wait, where is this again?

Emphasis on my laziness aside, two months ago, we started off in Carbisdale (castle youth hostel, fun) and passed through Eilean Donan (prettiest castle in Scotland, far and above). Well, we didn't. In fact, we did all this lovely stuff in September, not December.

At any rate, with the afternoon wearing on (actually, it's nearly evening now), we made our way to Skye.

You may have noticed that Scotland isn't actually very big: we arrived on Skye (there was a bridge) fairly quickly, and since we didn't particularly want to sit around the hostel for five or six hours before going to bed, we decided to wander the island a bit. Particularly, Sleat, a peninsula-ish thingy to the southwest.

Bible school has improved my geographical vocabulary.

Actually, before we got to this pretty stuff, there was quite a bit of boring stuff. There was a long stretch of clear ground with few trees, inland enough that you couldn't see the sea anymore. Red and rocky, and a bit dull on the whole. I saved my camera batteries for the pretty stuff.

Skye is the best example I can think of for the funness of Scottish roads. D'you see how it's a little one-lane thing with no shoulders? That was the condition of the road for 90% of the island, sans exaggeration.

At any rate, the boring stuff didn't last for very long. The road was fun -- we kept having to pull over to the little wobbles in the road to let people pass (everybody on Skye except the tourists waved their thanks). Also ended up pulling over to take pictures a number of times, because the shoreline came into view.

Incidentally, see all those clouds? That was what the weather was like the whole time we were on Skye.

Still pretty, though.

Because of the great entertainment that is editing Blogger posts, I've just lost one of my pictures, and I'm too lazy to put it back up. Don't worry, you're not missing anything, anyway: it was a repeat of the above.

I would tell you again how pretty it is, but do I really need to?

We wandered along this little peninsula-ish thing for, oh, I think an hour or two. Went right to the end of the road -- and when I say end, that's the word I mean. It didn't loop around or anything, just stopped at a house and a shop, and that was the end of it. Had some fun turning around, and then went to do it all over again, up and down and up and down and up and down--

I shouldn't make references most of my readers won't understand. Then again, when has that ever stopped me?

So yes. After Sleat, we went through Broadford -- I believe it's the biggest town on the island apart from Portree, but don't quote me. Before Sleat, we went through Broadford and stopped at Tourist Information and I bought a pretty bracelet of which I have no photographs. (Logical order to a post? Why?)

Then we went on to Glenbrittle. It's a walkers' youth hostel: it's inland, in the middle of a valley with easy access to any number of hills, as valleys often are. We didn't do any of the paths.

I don't think I have any pictures of the hostel -- I'll check later. It was a rattly little thing, but very nice. I believe it was Swiss in design, or possibly Swedish, but neh. We spent quite a bit of time playing Scrabble in the lounge.

This isn't all there is to Skye, by the way. We had a whole free day following, whereupon we got to see the things that will follow in the next post, or possible the next, or maybe the next if I'm being lazy.

(I still haven't done anything about my walk along the canal two weeks ago, or visiting the Falkirk Wheel last week, or seeing Mugdock Castle today.

But that's enough for one day.)

End 16 September '08.

More Weather

2009-02-11T17:14:00.003Z

Um, have some snow?

Winter

2009-01-16T18:30:00.008Z

I like a country with distinct seasons. I really do. Britain doesn't have seasons, not really. It doesn't have enough weather to have seasons: cloudy-cloudy-cloudy-rain-rain-cloudy-SUNohwaityoumissedit-rain-cloudy.

One thing I will say for it, however: gotta love a country where the grass doesn't die.

Christmas in Swansea, Wales

2009-01-14T19:12:00.013Z

And now for something completely different...

I finally realized that my pretty, tidy system of picture-ing was wholly reliant upon having my browser exactly square, and that enlarging to full screen put them all out of order.

So this time, I'm trying on full screen. I'd apologize for the formatting, except -- well, I don't intend to.

Right, so. For those I abjectly failed to inform, I didn't come/go home for Christmas, because it was either spend Christmas in the U.K. or be homeless until the end of school.

Originally, Sarah invited me down to Derbyshire for Christmas, but had to change last minute. But before notifying me, she worked it out with Kate for me to go there, instead. Kate lives in Swansea, Wales -- hence the title.

So, Wales is indeed quite pretty. It is also very, very wet.

Jenny (Kate's sister) and I went for a walk on the beach one day. It was drizzly and grey and we were sopping wet at the end of it, but it was fun. We jabbered away about Doctor Who for most of it.

The weather was not especially conducive to good pictures, but I tried. The funky building was an observatory. Innit just neat?

And this is proof that there are, in fact, sunny days in Wales.

Why, there were as many as three in the two weeks I was down there.

Most of the time, we watched films and knitted (we managed six films in one day, once), but we went shopping a few times, too. I actually bought three things, but one is geeky, one's a present, and one's a surprise. So nyeh.

Another day, Jenny and I went walking up on the moors. That was fun, too, albeit windy and cold.

So we talked about monarchy, anarchy, and the destruction of civilization. It was great.

More pretty pictures, although much of the time I was looking into the sun and couldn't tell what I was taking a picture of, anyway.

Hurray for hills.

Rather high up, but so flat up top. Lots of space to roam.

So, Christmas was actually pretty great. Kate predicted that Jenny and I would get on like a house on fire, and she was right. It was fantastic.

Her family was really fun, on the whole. And her mom was very warm and welcoming; they made me very much at home. For a first Christmas away from family, it was actually very easy and pleasant. Quite quiet, too.

Right, I mentioned I knitted, yes? Well, I made a scarf over the holidays.

No, not a scarf. A Scarf. It deserves a capital letter.

It's twice as long as I am tall, and trails on the floor when it's looped around my neck. The stripes -- dark and light brown, burnt orange, moss green, dark red, and off-white -- are of varying lengths and more or less at random. And it has tassels.

For those few who will have any idea what I'm talking about, think Tom Baker from Doctor Who, only slightly more tasteful.

<-- because no picture of Wales would be complete without a picture of sheep.

So, yes. Spent two weeks in Wales, and enjoyed it very, very much.

And Jenny is still awesome. Our conversations went from Doctor Who to serious politics (for serious!) to... well, everywhere.

Incidentally, I'm doing this instead of finishing that last post from the Scotland tour because if I don't put this in now, it'll never get in.

And I'm lazy.

Instead of being a sensible and responsible college student and writing my essay (due next week) or studying for exams (three, also next week), I'm blogging.

Wait, that's an oxymoron, isn't it?

2009-01-08T22:33:00.001Z

Happy Christmas, merry New Year, and a belated happy birthday to everyone.

...What?

Eilean Donan

2008-12-06T17:59:00.010Z

I knew this picture would come in handy.

Actually, I just thought it looked cool.

If you click on the picture of the map, you can find 'Eilean Donan Castle' in blue just beside Dornie, east of Kyle of Lochalsh.

Meet Eilean Donan, the prettiest castle in Scotland.

Rainy or not, this was a fantastic day. Beautiful, beautiful castle. They have weddings there, although apparently they don't close to the tourists for them, and I'm told part of a James Bond film (don't ask me which one -- The World Is Not Enough?) was shot here.

Eilean Donan is a small island -- the castle pretty much fills it up -- on Loch Duich.

Unfortunately, photography was prohibited indoors. Got a few pictures from the windows, though.

Indoors was rich and beautiful and frankly amazing. Lots of displays, lots of pictures -- lived up to the outside very well.

Clouds. :D

Raindrops.

Incidentally, the orange-ish stuff on the loch is some kind of algae. Thereon my knowledge fails. But although it should have looked sludgy and gross, it was in reality very, very cool.

This is the bridge from the island to the mainland.

More loch. Beautiful, beautiful loch. I can't stress that enough.

More of the walls and things. Quite a lot of people were wandering through. There were a lot of rooms inside, nearly all of them with interesdting displays.

Again, if you click on the picture, it will get bigger.

This is magic.

If you do so, you'll see... two raindrops. But also the Scottish flag. Pretty sludge.

I know it's redundant to put this final picture. My excuse is that it's pretty.

The last installment of the sixteenth of September will have to wait for another day, because I'm getting tired of this.

...Pretty castle!

Carbisdale->

2008-12-06T16:33:00.007Z

Instead of actually working on my (other) essay, I decided to spam photos. It's only been, what, a month and a half since the last instillation of this ten-day journey.

I'm actually going to split this one up quite a bit, 'cause when I say 'spam photos,' I really mean that I liked them all too much -- or rather, was too lazy to discriminate -- to leave any out, and it's a pain to do posts with more than a dozen and a half or so pictures.

'T any rate, last time, we concluded the Highlands, ending technically on Shin Falls, although the day ended with Carbisdale. Well, this is Carbisdale. They have a youth hostel in a castle. Can you get more awesome?

Inside was pretty neat. Obviously a pretty worn place -- it was, in case you were wondered, thoroughly painted, papered, and carpeted, so no bare stone walls or floors -- but quite lovely. Lots of plaster nudity, some cracked paintings. The library was fantastic: glorious, big room, warmly furnished, with two great bookcases (must've been easily ten feet long?). I prevented Mom from going to bed on time because I sat and read Kidnapped all that evening. It seemed appropriate.

So yes, lots of castle-y pictures here. It was really a grand old place. The morning was drizzly and wet, but I couldn't help taking a few commemorative pictures. Mostly because Mom wouldn't let us leave until I did.

I admit to a great fondness for scenes framed by walls and thingies. Is it obvious?

Also, the grey, rainy light of the Scottish morning may not be classic picture-taking light, but it gets some really gorgeous (if painfully amateur) glow-y-y effects.

I should intersperse comments about my general life here, if only to break up the great white spaces.

Well, I won't.

So there.

Wall. Pretty wall.

I tried to take a picture of a spiderweb, but it was quite beyond my poor camera's capabilities. Alas.

Yes, as it happens, the view was lovely. That sort of goes without saying in Scotland.

No, it doesn't, necessarily. I was employing artistic hyperbole.

Well, not necessarily artistic.

Just kind of smug, really.

These were the outer gates, some space down from the actual castle. This place was somewhat out in the middle of nowhere -- I think it was only about four or six miles from the nearest town, but it was a windy, lonely little path and the signs were easy to miss.

Onward and upward, in theory. Westward and southward, actually. From Carbisdale, we headed towards Skye. I think most of these pictures really go without saying.

If you look really hard, you can see a bridge in the background.

No, I don't remember which one it is. Why?

The houses across the loch. Often pretty little white things, strung together by long and winding roads.

Wouldn't you like to live there? I'd have no objections, me.

Redundant images? Just possibly.

Darned pretty, though.

Just so you know, there are about a zillion lochs in Scotland. They're often hard to find on the map, and it's even harder to remember all their names, so I hope you'll forgive my memory on this count.

Despite the camera's complete failure to capture the epic scenery, this is probably among my favourite pictures.

Flower!

Probably two more posts to conclude this day -- I can't remember how many pictures I took of Eilean Donan. Prettiest castle ever.

Anyway, more forthcoming. Possibly even soon.

2008-11-29T23:41:00.002Z

So, St. Andrew's Night was great. Cock-and-leekie soup, haggis and neeps and tatties, braised steak Nevis, trifles and tea. Alistair has a fantastic voice -- sang us some traditional Scots music. Jaimie Stuart, author of A Glasgow Bible, read some of his 'translations' to us -- very energetic man.

I got to talk to Adam and Simon for a while, too, which was really great. I don't see them often, since they're in second year, and they were really fun to talk to.

Oh, and I learned I can talk to two people at once. Isn't that neat?

2008-11-23T19:31:00.001Z

52 miles in the past two weeks.

2008-11-19T20:17:00.002Z

P.S.

I may be a brilliant, witty, and eloquent blogger, as my readership will attest (you may laugh, but it's true: much of it is related to me), but an orator I am not.

Lead fellowship group yesterday; the activity went much better than I expected, but I'm absolute rubbish at explaining things.

The last four times I've gone to college, I've walked both ways -- hoping, perhaps, that by saving bus money, I'll somehow feel less guilty for spending £8 on two pieces of sheet music -- two-thirds of one I already have, on the wrong continent. And less guilty about those chocolate bars...

Incidentally, for those I haven't bragged to yet, I walk to college in the mornings, four times a week, and take the bus home. Said walk is about four miles, approximating by my pace: it takes me an hour and ten minutes to walk it, but 6-10 minutes of that is waiting for traffic lights (10.5 by my watch today).

Most people I talk to are suitably impressed at that.

This entry occurs because I'm too lazy to, you know, edit the previous post instead of going to the trouble of writing a new one.

Consistency has never been my strong point.

2008-11-19T18:21:00.002Z

I am astonished at the effects postmodernism -- particularly deconstructionism -- has had on my own thought. I never realized how much it has influenced me.

'Course, I'll have forgotten all the specifics by tomorrow, notes or no.

Note to self: pursue further studies when time is less limited.

Hm. Updates are becoming few and far between. If I finish my essay by next week (hahahahaha, no, really), I will treat myself (or not) to more picturing on mein blog.

Haha. Finish. Ha.

2008-11-09T13:41:00.006Z

From Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell:

"The light was watery, dim, and incomparably sad. Vast, grey, gloomy hills rose up all around them and in between the hills there was a wide expanse of black bog. Stephen had never seen a landscape so calculated to reduce the onlooker to utter despair in an instant.

'This is one of your kingdoms, I suppose, sir?' he said.

'My kingdoms?' exclaimed the gentleman in surprise. 'Oh, no! This is Scotland!'"

2008-11-04T14:58:00.005Z

You know you're a college student when you find 18p on the ground and your first thought is: "Great! I'm halfway to a cup of tea!"

And your second thought is: "Who'd throw away this much money?"

And your third thought is: "You know you're a college student..."

(I feel sorry for the poor ladies at the college cafe; to be fair, I haven't paid for my tea in only pennies and tuppence. Yet.)

2008-10-31T18:06:00.003Z

Miora, Sarah, Sara, Kate, Aileen, and Grace were going to the cinema and invited me along. We watched Quantum of Solace. Not too shabby -- although the bit with the parachute kind of broke my willing suspension of disbelief, even for a Bond film. Was fun to actually go out with the girls.

So, yesterday. We studied the development of doctrine. Our lecturer brought in a keyboard. Every time we finished a major point -- for instance, Monarchianism or Arianism -- he'd stop to sing us a song to help us remember the doctrine. And then he'd make us sing along. Twice.

It was awesome.

Helped that he was good at both the keyboard and singing. Paraphrase of the only lyrics I can really remember:

Nestorius, Nestorius!
What a catchy jingle.
Christ was God and Christ was man
And the two shall never mingle.

Yeah. Most memorable lecture ever.

I Kid You Not (Freaking Awesome)

2008-10-30T18:21:00.001Z

From the lecturer who brought us "Isn't heresy fun?":

The Development of Doctrine.

The Musical.

(Inverness)-Ullapool-Carbisdale

2008-10-20T11:34:00.008+01:00

See? I told you I'd get back to this eventually.

It's only been two and a half weeks since my last trip pictures; that's not long at all, right?

Yeah. Eventually.

So, this is the conclusion of the Inverness day started... what, twenty days ago?

The above pictures were a random rest stop; I believe it was at Blackwater. Very pretty.

So, after we went to Loch Ness and Urquhart, we swung north. Since we weren't all that far from where we intended to stay (Carbisdale), we decided to follow the road up past Ullapool. We didn't go quite all the way to the northern coast, but we weren't that far off, and wandered along the west coast a fair while.

There were some of the most beautiful pictures you've ever seen, wandering lonely roads through the Highlands. Unfortunately, my camera couldn't take them. It doesn't always see eye to eye with me. But I did the best I could.

I have a Scottish joke now. It's my only joke.

What's the difference between A roads and B roads in Scotland?

Yeah, I can't tell you either.

Honestly, the same "A road" went from a dual carriageway to a single-lane pull-over-or-get-run-over avenue. And stayed that way for hundreds of miles. It was awesome, but a little harrowing sometimes.
Actually, this was arguably my favourite part of the whole trip. I loved exploring castles, and the lochs were just lovely, but that drive was wonderful. If I go nowhere else in my time here, I will go to the Highlands. The little lochs in the valleys were fantastically beautiful. Sometimes, we saw rolling hills on either side, but between them was a very wide, flat plain that could've been stolen from the prairies.

More than that, the hills just go on. It's beautifully bleak, and you can't imagine how such a tiny country could enclose such vastness. The heather doesn't seem to end. It's a glorious kind of loneliness. Not the sort of place I could stay forever -- I need trees now and again -- but it's a kind of solitude that I crave.

This was a random ruin. I can't remember the name of it, but it was sitting pretty in the middle of one of the aforementioned valleys, so we stopped to take a walk.

If I recall correctly, there was a sign warning us to stay on the path, because to either side was unpredictably marshy ground.

We didn't actually go right up to the ruin -- just close enough to take a few really good pictures. It was pretty.

Also if-I-recall-correctly, this picture below was from one of the lochs that was a loch, somehow, but reached in from the sea. Prettiful indeed.

Also if-I-recall-correctly, this picture below was from one of the lochs that was a loch, somehow, but reached in from the sea. Prettiful indeed. There were a number of places like this, where we were almost but not quite looking at the sea.

And I can't remember what bridge this is.

Yes, I know I should have labelled my pictures better -- or, do I hear it? done this sooner -- but I didn't. So there.

Ask Mom.

Do you want to know the real reason I add little comments like this all through? Because it makes it look like I knew what I was doing when I formatted these.

So if it starts to sound like I'm making stuff up, I probably am.

But there's nothing you can do about that.

An I recall aright, this is one of those aforementioned lochs/firths -- one of the most interesting ones. I like this picture a lot more than I should.

I took a picture of a Highland Cow around here, too, but you don't get to see it. I mostly took it on principle; just like you can't go to Scotland without tasting haggis, you can't go to the Highlands without taking a picture of a heilan' coo.

As much as I hated the kitsch cow merchandise, that T-shirt was cute.
I say that mostly because I love saying "heilan' coo."

Another fun thing about the compressed geography of Scotland is the coastline. As many people have pointed out, some places you get beaches so white that you'd think you're in the Caribbean (as long as you don't go outside). We didn't quite manage to see one of those, but in some places, the ferns and greenery managed to look just this side of tropical.

The variation you get in this place is awesome. Again to reiterate a fairly common statement, Scotland is like a really, really, really compressed Canada.

Except they don't have real mountains.

And these, to the last, are pictures of Shin Falls. They weren't real waterfalls. This is as high as they got. But although I wasn't able to get a picture, you could see the salmon jumping upriver over this last spot, which was neat.

And this concludes our tour for today. After Shin Falls, by which time I'd dozed off several times, we went to Carbisdale. More on that next post, because I'll ramble a bit and heaven forbid that I should ramble in an already long post.

Right.

2008-10-10T22:15:00.003+01:00

You know, one day, I'll actually get back to putting pictures on here.

The other day, I spent money. I bought a KitKat McFlurry, because there are no Blizzards here. I'll tell you this: Mickey D's i'n't a patch on DQ. And a thirty pence more than the regular -- for a cup that tiny -- is robbery. But I got my fix.

I walked home in the wet today, and enjoyed it very much; going out again twenty minutes later, I had the chance to change my clothes and not spend the evening soaking wet. Do you think I did? Somehow, I got the idea that doing so would be admitting weakness. My feud with the rain is ongoing.

Commissioning service tonight. Welshman spoke -- Andrew Owen. He was terribly fun.

The most awesome lecturer ever (not one of mine, actually) has invited Amy, the other Canadian girl, and me to (Canadian) Thanksgiving dinner this Sunday. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Speaking of warm and fuzzy, it's a little surreal to go into a daily social situation that isn't paralyzingly terrifying.

I'm hungry.

2008-10-05T16:15:00.003+01:00

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvQFxhhMEsw

Ted Herbert, vice president of the college for ten years (if I recall aright), recorded and played for the students approximately five days before he died.

I can't really say anymore than that.

2008-10-02T16:03:00.003+01:00

I'm not sure whether I like umbrellas or not. I hate carrying them. On the one hand, it's entertaining to be warmer and drier because of a spindly thing of cloth and metal, and it amuses me to hear the rain splattering to a halt just above my head -- like I've outwitted it, or something -- but on the other hand... I'm not getting wet.

Relevance? Why, none at all. Is it required?

Inverness -> (Loch Ness and Urquhart Castle)

2008-09-30T22:38:00.002+01:00

My constant complaint on Xanga, as some will recall, was that I had no idea how many people - if indeed any - read what I wrote. You'll note I've said nothing of the kind here.

I will, however, point out that the handy little "comment" button doesn't care if you have a Blogger account or not.

Know what's fun? Walking in the rain until your hair is so wet you have to wring it out before you go inside, and the water rolls over your scalp and down your forehead.

(With all due respect to Sam Vimes, my hair's too long for rain to trickle down the back of my neck.)

Without further ado, part one of Inverness travels.

(Did you notice I'm getting further and further behind? At this rate, it'll take me two months to detail a ten-day trip.)
So, the day we drove down to Loch Ness, it was really, really foggy, which was unfortunate. Still pretty, but it didn't make for awfully good photos. More fun was the subject of the ruins of Urquhart Castle.

Why, yes, I did go camera-happy. Why do you ask?

I love all these pictures.

I should just put a standard warning on these things now. Photo overload, hurray.
Once again, my factual knowledge of my subject matter is severely lacking. Here's what I can tell you:

Urquhart Castle is a ruin.

Urquhart Castle is on the shore of Loch Ness.

Don't you feel all warm and informed now?

Some of the angles I had a chance to attempt were really fun. There was limitless potential for good shots; the fog was a bit in the way, as much as I like fog. Castle Urquhart is pretty.
Obviously, these are all pictures of and from the castle. I found so many of them that I liked that I chose to stick them all in one post and leave the rest (actually, it's been so long since I started this post that I can't remember if I have other pictures) for another.

I think the one above is my favourite. Except for all of them.

Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes Loch Ness.
It was prettier when I saw it, so nyeh.

I still love my pictures.

Too bad I forgot my camera for every major event over the weekend.

Lectures start tomorrow.

Ted Herbert, the vice-principal of the college, died last night just before midnight after a two-month bout with cancer. The only contact I had with him was a voice clip played for the students last Thursday.

A lot of people are grieving right now; I am myself quieted, even without knowing him. But I wish I could play that voice clip for you, because it was one of the most inspiring things I have heard.

2008-09-27T18:34:00.003+01:00

From now on, when I have difficult days, I'm going to rate them according to how many times I have to hug this unreasonably cute bear:
The count for today is, alas, lost.

Yes, he's unreasonably cute. Admit it.

More Delays

2008-09-25T17:43:00.002+01:00

So, there's the Symphony tonight, exploring and Ceilidh tomorrow, tours and supper on Saturday, day-trip on Monday, last day of orientation on Tuesday, and lectures begin on Wednesday.

The picture should be resolving itself right about... now.

Might be able to blog Sunday, but Mom's leaving on Saturday, so I might not feel much like embarking on the strikingly witty epistle which composes--

No, I can't finish that with a straight face or a good conscience.

Anyway. It's in the title.

Blogging in Brief

2008-09-23T19:54:00.003+01:00

"As though such a fool as I could ever be brief."

So, first day of orientation week. Surprisingly, it wasn't too scary. The staff were quite casual and everyone was very warm and friendly. I even talked -- at length, once or twice. I met another Canadian girl and spent an hour or so with her, which was rather nice.

But I started falling asleep during the library introduction lecture, so I went against myself and bought a cup of tea at the canteen. Only 40p though.

Unfortunately, the end result of an eight-or-so-hour day is that I really don't want to tackle picturing, so that will have to wait another day.

Maybe many another days.

But maybe not.

Oh, right. One more thing: for those who are looking askance at the double pictoor links, there's a reason. I've just forgotten what it is.

No. Each album is limited to five hundred photos, so I have to put up multiple albums to contain all the pictures.

Ta.

(Incidentally, "looking askance" doesn't mean you're looking questioningly. Look it up; that's my word of the day for you.)

Aberdeen to Inverness (Elgin)

2008-09-22T16:32:00.011+01:00

Part two ensues.

Well, more or less. I have fewer comments on this one.

This would be Elgin Cathedral, found in... Elgin. (Didn't see that coming, did you?) It is a gorgeous ruin of a cathedral originally built in the thirteenth century.

(Extreme photo overload ahoy)

Above, hiding in the corner, is an octagonal chapter house, apparently unique among Scottish churches.

The picture on the left comes from a platform built at the top of the towers -- I think it was the east one. The stairs were frighteningly narrow and uneven, and the platform was high.

Very, very high.

I have to put text in here, now, otherwise it looks like I didn't know what I was doing.

Oh, wait.

This is a view from about a third of the way up, I think, on a walkway between the two towers flanking the front gates.

One comment I do have to make is that the stonework was absolutely wonderful. The intricacies lining the arches, the effigies, the pillars -- really, everywhere conceivable -- was stunning.

Also, note the size. In the overhead view up top, I couldn't fit the whole thing in one picture.

Above on the left is the inside of the chapter house, which had been kept up. It sounds so snooty, but allow me to direct your attention to the upper part of the window. Each of the windows had similar working, and each was unique. The ceiling was spectacular, and fascinating. I could only catch a little bit of it without my photos looking like an Escher painting.

A graveyard surrounded the cathedral ruins, which made for some fun pictures.

I reiterate my words on the stonework. It was gorgeous.

And that'd be the end of it. Interesting about Inverness, though. We got to the hostel and sat in our rooms, and were eventually joined by an Australian woman named Liz. She was almost aggressively friendly, and got everyone -- by the end of the night, there were six people in our room -- introduced and talking. We discovered that Mom and I had been in the same hostel as her in Aberdeen -- in fact, we shared a room, only Liz was in so late and up so early that we never met her.

That was actually the best of the hostel experiences. Liz was, as I said, very friendly and talkative, and managed to make all of us comfortable with each other. She had loads of stories to tell, too, particularly about the drama that ensued in the Aberdeen hostel before our arrival

Choir tonight, and school tomorrow, so again, I'm not sure when I'll next continue this virtual epistle. No worries, though. I'll get to it eventually.

Extremely eventually, maybe, but eventually.

Aberdeen to Inverness (Huntly)

2008-09-22T11:36:00.024+01:00

I'm going to separate this into two posts. This is partially because there were two major stops, and it's easier to divide the photos.

Mostly, though, it's because I'm lazy.

This would be the ruins of Huntly Castle. Wiki can give you a better history of it than I can, but I will note that, like most of the castles we saw, it was occupied both by private residents and by armies between the fourteenth and eighteenth centuries.

One fact thing we learned was that the castle is a ruin not because it was destroyed during hostilities, but because of the roof and window tax. The owners of the castle were had long been living elsewhere when the tax was implemented; in order to avoid paying taxes on a castle they didn't use, they stripped the roof and windows, subjecting the building to decay for the next hundred years or so. If I recall correctly, the date was 1799. But I may be wrong.

I often may be wrong. It's just that I so rarely often am.

Incidentally, the castle wasn't the original reason I wanted to stop in Huntly. George MacDonald (if you haven't heard me mention him by now, you haven't been listening) was born and raised in Huntly. The castle was a really lovely ruin, though, and I saw a lot more of it than I saw of the town. Actually, I think it was one of the most interesting castles we saw, alongside Menzies, Urquhart, and Eilean Donan.

Overload of pictures yet? Just for fun, I'm adding a big block of them at the end of this.

Speaking of photos, I promise it's the last time I'll point it out: the pictoors link leads to my online photo album, which includes all the pictures I omitted, whether for reasons of quality or space. There are a lot. For some reason, though, all the ones with me in them have mysteriously disappeared.

Fancy that.

(Incidentally, I'm aware of the disparity in my grammar which doubtless caught your trained eyes. I assure you, it was deliberate.)

(Hey, I know what I'm doing, so I'm allowed.)

Perth to Aberdeen

2008-09-21T20:05:00.014+01:00

I'd remember a lot more of this trip if I looked at the map. Fortunately, this is one of the days that I took 70 pictures instead of the obligatory 150, so picking pictures was a touch easier. In fact, I feel guilty about the general lack of difficulty -- almost sufficient to convince me to try two posts today.

Ahahaha.

Actually, there were a surprising number of photos that I liked from this section. The road we took -- one of the tourist ones, I believe -- was a very pretty one.

That is a river. This is a hill.

Allow me here to say that I adore Scotland to no end. In the Lowlands/Borders, it was like driving through B.C.'s greenery. As we neared the Highlands, we started getting into the heather-hills and bleaker landscapes that somehow manage to be unspeakably attractive.

Allow me also to say that the Rockies pwn their mountains to bits. Except for possibly two.

And one was on Skye.
This, also, portrays a hill. And, conveniently, a river as well.

Allow me here to say more about the Lowlands, which I failed to do in the Selkirk region posts.

For that matter, about the Highlands.

It concerns sheep.

There are a lot of them.

That is all.

This, for a nice change of pace, is a castle. I hope you didn't need me to tell you that. This is Braemar Castle, actually; not entirely unique in its star-shaped wall, but the only one of its kind that we visited. Also unique was the fact that it was guided tour only, and thus the only guided tour we went on. This one was occupied in the... fifties, I believe? The current clan chief, who had lived here for the duration of his first marriage, is now seventy-nine, if I recall correctly. And said first marriage was to an American woman who, the guide was fond of telling us, was rather larger-than-life: a very bold and flamboyant individual. This was evinced by the fact that she'd painted several rooms, in this lovely old castle, a very striking, bold, flamboyant, and utterly tasteless pink.

To be fair, I did lie a little. It wasn't a very striking, bold, flamboyant, utterly tasteless pink. It was several shades of it.

The bathroom. I'm not talking about the bathroom.

But the tour was fun. We got a lot more detailed history than we otherwise would have received. Very interesting.

No, I don't intend to share. Mostly because I've forgotten, or else absorbed the information in that osmosis-like process which, defying memory, nonetheless produces relevant information at the most unlikely times, accompanied by a general reaction of "Where on Earth did I learn that?"

We ended up at Aberdeen, which was our first night in a youth hostel. I did have my moment of inevitable panic, yes, but it didn't last awfully long. At any rate, we survived.

I'm going to join the New Scottish Choir. Prestigious, no? Actually, it's just a choir my landlord is helping to manage for a big event in about a month. Stuart Townend will be there.

More updates when I have time, which may not be for a while.

Tuesday. Eep.

Edinburgh to Perth

2008-09-20T18:30:00.003+01:00

What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a clear case of Too Many Photos, with a sub-case of I Have No Idea What I'm Doing.

Above and below (and all around, really) are pictures of Stirling Castle. It was interesting, but unfortunately not quite as fun as Edinburgh Castle (or some of the subsequent ones). Nonetheless, memorable.

These are random photographs I thought were pretty. The road we took to Perth was really very nice. Very lush: it was very much like driving in B.C.

Nooo idea what I'm doing. Anyway, here's Castle Menzies. That's the clan seat of my other ancestors. It was fascinating to track some of the Menzies who may or may not be distantly related to us.

From here on, I gave up on format experimentations, in case you couldn't tell. At any rate, Menzies. I can't remember how old the piano was, unfortunately. As with several castles we visited, a "Victorian wing" had been erected in the aforementioned era, but had to be torn down. The reason for this one wasn't stated, but with the other, the wing was demolished because the damp had been sealed in and was causing structural problems. There were several staircases that had either been sealed off or led nowhere.

Because the castle was a residence until the early twentieth century, and was in various hands until 1957, there were quite a few "updated" (or not so much) portions: several rooms had been plastered poorly, some quite a bit better. One hall was painted an admittedly awful shade of pink, but it made up for it by having numerous remarkable paintings of Menzies through the ages. (I refrain from including that picture, you'll note: my excuse is that it was the devil to format.) Another had a beautiful plaster ceiling - my terminology is vastly incorrect, but there were panels all across the room, each with its own design. Apparently, said ceiling was restored from the older design: in another room, we discovered fragments of the older ceiling as well as casts from the original molds.

One of the things that sticks out is that in one display, there was a corroded old claidh morh believed to have been used in 1314. It was literally as tall as I was. Literally as in, the length of the sword was noted in the front of the display and it was as tall as I was. Unfortunately, I couldn't take pictures because of the glare, but I got a picture of the card. How did you think I remembered these things? By writing them down?

And finally, we have a picture of Perth. That's about as much as we saw of it, actually. We arrived at our hotel, expecting it to be cheap, and found it was actually the old hotel - across from the train station - which had been really grand in its day. It was still lovely. We wandered down the street for quite a while to find something to eat, but didn't otherwise explore much of Perth.

Hey, with the way this formatted, it almost looks like I knew what I was doing.

Almost.

Apologies to anyone who read this before 6:30 here-time: the preview option tends to mess with my photos, so I have to publish to see what I'm doing. At least, until I figure this out, which may take a while.

So, Edinburgh-Stirling Castle-Castle Menzies-Perth. Given the overload of pictures/information (and the time-consuming process), further sojourns will await another day.

Oh, but one interesting thing from Edinburgh: a lot of the shops were the tacky tartan standard, although some were better than others, and many had bagpipe or otherwise Celtic music in the background. At one point I burst out laughing to hear Clocks - yes, the one by Coldplay - played with bagpipes. Actually, it was a remarkable arrangement, and my laughter was inspired as much by delight as astonishment. But it was fun.

Ta.

Back in Glasgow

2008-09-20T15:23:00.005+01:00

Raj has helped me with my wireless connection for the third time, so I'm back. Let's see if I can stick around this time.

A brief note: banking. Just... banking.

I vandalized one of the pamphlets to make myself feel better. My favourite was "Switching your current account to [this bank] has never been easier. (Not long ago, you had to surrender your firstborn. Now we're content with the second.)"

At least I have an account now, after days of obstacle after obstacle (by the end, it felt like they were just making them up for fun). My landlordish has been very helpful. He made several phone calls to smooth things out for us.

Anyway, trips.

Total line: Glasgow-Edinburgh (three nights)-Perth-Aberdeen-Inverness-Carbisdale-Glenbrittle-Crianlarich. Photos are forthcoming, because I've only just started refiguring the online album (sort of), and also because I took 70-160 pictures per day until the last few days. It takes a while to find seven or eight to represent the whole.

The first will begin anon (with luck), as now I need to figure out appropriate formatting for that. Technologically adept? Not remotely.

I begin school on Tuesday. From then until the next Tuesday is the orientation week. Do you think I'm ready? I don't.

Oh, well. Scotland. 'Nuff said.

Edinburgh and photo overload

2008-09-11T19:25:00.015+01:00

Okay-so. Wandered along the Royal Mile yesterday--yes, it's touristy, but it's fun touristy--and made it to Edinburgh Castle. Various pictures of Edinburgh, including St. Giles' Cathedral:

Pictures of and from the castle:

And one more, though not from the castle:

We spent money.

Incidentally, the articulately-titled "pictoors" link on the right leads to my online photo album. Ish. Still trying to figure out how to work the thing.

Kinda like this thing.

So, we leave Edinburgh tomorrow morning, with any luck. We intend to see Stirling Castle and various other interests before settling down in Perth. The rest of the planning is beyond my ken, but it's highly probable that I won't have internet access until I return to Glasgow. And then I'll have a zillion pictures.

Speaking of which, my formatting nightmares mean that I keep losing ones from here. I'll figure it out eventually. Anyway, the album-thing has the rest of them. Be warned, though: some are very poor quality. And there are a lot.

So, ta 'til Glasgow.

B-roads and Graveyards

2008-09-10T20:10:00.011+01:00

Yesterday, we left Glasgow and went down, passing by Moffat, to a tiny place called Ettrick, then up to Selkirk and further up to Edinburgh. The roads were very narrow, once we got off the motorway, winding through wood and over hills and through some very, very beautiful landscape, even if the roads made the rare traffic very nervous. Some pictures of the countryside and road:

My maternal ancestors (they emigrated in 1882) lived in Ettrick Valley, so we went down to the region and found Ettrick Water, Ettrickbridge, and Ettrick -- the church is about it. There were three buildings in Ettrick, and the church was the biggest.

And this is something neat. In pursuit of our ancestral history, we found that my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, Richard Lees, was entitled "the Shepherd of Singlie." No internet search could tell us more about that. We weren't really expecting to find much, but on the road, we stopped suddenly to see this:

Also in our (read: Mom's) searches, we found out that the Leeses were buried in the Auld Kirkyard in Selkirk. Naturally, we stopped to see. We didn't really expect to find much. It was a lovely graveyard, though - many of the graves were so old that no words were legible.

And then, in the very end corner, after giving up hope at all, we found a lonely gravestone.

The Richard Lees named at the top is noted as "the late Shepherd of Singlie." He died in 1860. The grave commemorates quite a number of his descendants, the last of which died in 1900. Richard Lees is our only direct ancestor, though: the grave traces the line of the other son, the one who didn't emigrate to Canada. We think. A correction may be forthcoming.

So both discoveries, that of Singlie and that of the grave, were unexpected and rather exciting, and almost made up for the heck we had getting out of Selkirk and into Edinburgh. But I'm now in Edinburgh; today's explorations will wait for when my battery isn't dying.

...Scotland!

Trees are nice

2008-09-08T20:57:00.003+01:00

Here's the house where I'm staying. And a tree.

Day One. Or Five, Whichever.

2008-09-08T20:13:00.008+01:00

After various wireless issues, I have access of the internets. To blog.

For those who didn't Wiki it and pretend to have known all along (guilty on so many points), Scotland's over here, not over there. And Glasgow is in Scotland. Does that help?

It's seven hours' difference from High River, and the plane ride was about seven and a half. We left the ground at about 7 p.m. and landed at 9 a.m. Watched the aurora just east of Baffin Island. No photos, unfortunately, but I enjoyed it.

Glasgow is pretty. Very, very pretty. I could ramble about architecture for hours, but there'll be pictures in a couple weeks, when I eventually remember to carry my camera with me. We've explored quite a bit already; walked the road to the college twice - it's about four miles, give or take.

So for scheduling, here goes: tomorrow, Mom and I are leaving Glasgow and touring. Yes, we will be seeing Loch Ness, and no, I don't give a rip about the monster. We'll also be seeing the Isle of Skye, Edinburgh, and Loch Lomond. College begins two weeks from tomorrow. So there probably won't be many pictures for the next week and a half or so. But maybe.

In the meantime, this is me:

This is Glasgow:

And this is me in Glasgow: