As the Weeks Whiz By

The other day, I walked to the gym in some of the more recent, truly Scottish weather. The mild days dappled with sunlight changed to days chilled from the night before, swept with wind and rain. The change from summer to fall this year has been very gradual, which seems uncharacteristic of Scotland. Just yesterday a friend of mine from Aberdeen complained that, "it's meant to be colder in November! We should have snow by now!" Of course, Aberdeen is about three hours north of Edinburgh.
It really is colder there. Almost a month ago now, I crawled out of bed early on a Sunday morning (too early for breakfast, so I poured myself some freshly-bought cereal and milk in the semi-darkness) to lope up to New Town in Edinburgh to the bus station by St. Andrews Square with Mhairi and Lewis, two good friends (Mhairi is the one from Aberdeen). The three hour-long bus ride, and attempted sleep, was only punctuated by a move to another bus and awake moments spent listening to Arctic Monkeys and Mhairi's commentary on the city of Dundee.
Once we arrived in Aberdeen, stiff-necked and groggy, Mhairi and I were grateful for our winter coats, but poor Lewis only had a sweatshirt and leather jacket. He survived the day, though.
I haven't even said why we lugged ourselves up to Aberdeen! The Arctic Monkeys were playing there! And since Mhairi hails from that just outside nice city, we knew we could stay overnight for free.
We whiled away the day with a walk to the beach, where we sat down to a classic American diner meal: burgers and milkshakes (and fish and chips), and then hiked back to the center of town to the mall where our friend Mikey, also from Aberdeen, would meet us. Since we didn't have the money to buy anything (the luxuries of student-hood), we spent a chunk of time in the Apple store, playing games, and Lewis emailed a professor that he wouldn't come to a lecture the next day (he didn't say it was because we were getting back later in the morning from a concert the night before, of course).
Before long, Mikey left to have dinner with his parents while he was in town from school, and we left to find a cheap dinner from Marks & Spencers. While Mhairi and Lewis found nice sandwiches, I scored a delicious container of pesto pasta, which did not include a fork. We searched the store for a plastic fork, to no avail, and eventually sneaked into Starbucks, where a grabbed two wooden stirrers to use a chopsticks. I successfully polished off every last bite.
Now, the concert. Incredible. We queued outside, shivering, and the wait was long, but it was worth it. The Vaccines, who opened for the Arctic Monkeys, were great. I know most of the words to their songs, which is always fun. Since we had arrived before the concert hall's doors opened- we secured spots at the front, with only a row of people in front of us. The concert was incredible- and loud- but that's to be expected of course. Then, the Arctic Monkeys stepped out. Actually, before them, the guitar tuner was cheered onstage by the crowd.

I could describe the concert, but I wouldn't do it justice. Mhari's mother was very kind and picked us up at the concert hall, where the streets were crawling with cars after the concert- and we drove for several hours- which are a blur to me now, except for waking up suddenly to the car slowing down and seeing horses by Mhairi's house. We rounded off the night with a bit of Father Ted, a comedy show about priests that haven't been devout enough who are sent to an island off of Ireland to better their ways.
Only a few weeks later, Madeleine and I strolled over to HMV Picturehouse, a theatre-turned-club, to see Cake! The band, not the food. For those who don't know Cake, I highly recommend a listen.
Anyways, I'm way behind schedule. I discovered this post-in-progress a few minutes ago- in February- and decided to round it off.
That day I was walking to the gym- the day before I started writing this post, as I neared a hill descending towards the gym, more of Edinburgh's landscape came into view, crowned by a vivid rainbow. The brief torrent of sleet-like rain had dissipated, leaving behind a beautiful day with only damp pavement to remind us of the stormy morning.

Edinburgh at Night

These pictures are all form my first night in Edinburgh, just while wandering around with the parents after dinner. Then, since I was more awake and filled with good food, I remembered how, over a year ago, this city has stirred something in me: a desire to keep traveling, to keep learning, to keep meeting new people from all over the world. I fell in love again with the landscape, the wind, the people, and the buildings still blackened from years of ashes and smoke when the city earned its name "Auld Reekie" for the haze that sank in on the city in earlier days.

Every time I walk home, I gaze towards Arthur's Seat and the cliffs that surround it, and head for the dorms that lie just in front of it.

If I run errands near Princes Street, I treat myself to a walk down North Bridge, where you can't tell whether one side's view trumps the other.

Even though the first week was battered by wind and rain (Hurricane Irene decided to pop on over for a visit), I marveled at the Old Medical School in Bristo Square or the castle-like building across from my dorm.

Anyways, I am supposed to be telling you about the wonderful night life here.

First of all, I have to say that Edinburgh has been voted the third safest city for students in Scotland by the Complete University Guide (Glasgow was apparently voted last), and I have never felt threatened at night. Of course, I don't go padding along the streets alone at midnight, but whenever I've returned from a bar or club with friends, I have felt secure.

During Freshers Week, there were probably at least five fun places to go, with free access to many University sites thanks to a well spent £35 on a Freshers Pass.

On the first night out, we discovered Moosa Dollars while queuing for Potterow (the student union center complete with student shop, bar and dance floor upstairs) and the "Big Cheese" or the usual cheesy pop music event that's held upstairs every Saturday. Moosa Dollars are used for the auction at the end of Freshers Week, and can be earned by performing something truly spectacular- be it a strange skill or well-trained talent. The number of dollars given out is at the discretion of the giver. I got six on the first night by showing off my ability to lie on my stomach and touch my toes to my head. It helped that I was willing to do it on the street. I never progressed to the point where I got dollars for being drunk and doing ridiculous things. I did do quite a few ridiculous things without the aid of alcohol, though. Later in the week, I continued to tap my head with my toes, but soon many had seen me do that and were no longer impressed. I believe I got nine Moosa Dollars once for going up to a man in a kilt and asking is he was a "true Scotsman".

"Is there any other way?" he replied.
"No, I suppose there isn't." I realized quite quickly that I had just asked a man if he was wearing any pants (here, "pants" means underwear, which has caused much confusion for some of us Americans and much laughter among the Scottish, English and Irish students).

I rounded out the week with twenty-five Moosa Dollars, but did not make it to the auction, where the grand prize to be sold was an iPad. Ah, well- at least now I get to keep the funny paper with Robert the Moose (our mascot) in Washington's place.

Anyways, I shouldn't mislead you to believe all I do is go around being a "whore" for Moosa Dollars, as one dollar giver had me say in Dutch once I stated I was fluent. Mostly, my nights that first week were spent either going out with new friends to bars, Potterow, the Teviot (another University site with many floors and many bars) or staying in and meeting more people in the common room on the ground floor of Grant House, my dorm. On the first Sunday, the Lounge in Teviot became a Jazz bar, and two guys with us that night approached the band playing and asked to have a go at the piano and drums. They were fantastic.

This past Friday, a group of us went searching for the cheapest pint in town- and found it, finally, at a bar called Finnigan's, where a band played I Wanna Hold Your Hand, Sweet Home Alabama, Mr. Brightside, and a few others. I captured a handful of hilarious pictures of friends singing along.

Well, I should really set to work on some reading for History and for Social Anthropology. More soon about lectures, tutorials and professors, I hope.

Four bags, Three Coats, Two Parents and Me

Somehow, I squeezed my life into a suitcase, duffel bag, backpack and messenger bag. I cheated, though. I had a pillow as well, I guess, and a couple shoes hitched a ride in my parents' suitcases (thank god they decided to drop me off) and we're already planning a small care package. I'm hoping that my parents won't judge the couple books and jackets I'm missing as unnecessary. Of course, that all depends on the cost of shipping.

When we arrived, lacking in sleep because of the fantastic choice of films on the flight (such as Midnight in Paris), we stumbled around the city for a few hours and scavenged some decent breakfast (a full breakfast for the goofy Dutch guy, fluffy eggs and toast for the Iowan, and a few dense pancakes for the fresher). We had planned to walk most of the day, or at least until two, when our hotel room opened, but by about one we had collapsed in the hotel lobby, praying the rooms would be available just a few minutes or so earlier. The Irish student at the desk offered advice on living costs and bank accounts and travel to us and another American fresher with her mother (who recognized me the other day in my Social Anthropology lecture the other day and we reintroduced ourselves). Luckily, before two o'clock arrived, we sank into our beds for a couple hours before hunting down dinner.

We did find a great Indian restaurant on Rose Street, which runs parallel to Princes Street, the main shopping street, but its delicious food was compromised by the high prices ( and they charged for every last glass of water and every small dish of dipping sauce). We counted it as a last celebratory meal for my transatlantic college acceptance (which we also did for the lunch we had this past Friday just before my parents flew back to New Jersey- I'm not complaining, though- my fresh Bruschetta and Sticky Toffee Pudding were delectable).

Anyways- Freshers Week. What a great time. I owe so much to the girl living in the room next to me, Ali, who convinced me I had to go out the first night with the dorm. I had been planning to try to get over jet lag, which would have proved pointless, anyways, since I spent all of Freshers Week going to bed no earlier than two o'clock in the morning...

I ended up meeting, almost immediately, a delightful group of people from my house (dorm), who have become the friends I go out with or stay in with.

The second day after moving in, I clambered up Arthur's Seat on the steepest path (to my knowledge) with Madeleine and Mikey from my dorm and Mikey's friend, Ben. The wind blew us against the mountain as we climbed, instead of off the cliff, which was very much appreciated.

 

At the top, we ran into a couple friends from the house who ran up just before us. We were quite satisfied with taking our time up and down, though. Since we took our time, we gazed for a while at the city and spotted at least three rainbows and some old ruins.

 

I'll report more about that week later. For now, I'm going to drink tea and hope that my bothersome cold goes away soon. The weather right now is actually great: sunny and not too chilly. I think I caught the tail end of the "fresher's flu", which has flown around. Hopefully, this blog will be more successful than my last, and I will post more than once per season. Greetings to everyone and thanks for reading!