New Thing #81 - L/S/I, Day 6 - Edinburgh

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Off to Scotland today!! I can't tell you how excited I was. We were up ridiculously early in order to not only make it to our connecting train on time but also to be ready and out of the way before Aaron and Melissa had to start getting ready for work. It was so bloody early, but I was so excited to be headed to Edinburgh that I didn't care. 

In order to get to the Blackheath train on time, we had a cab pick us up and drive us there. And it's a really good thing we did because we would end up needing those precious 15-20 minutes later in the morning. Our train to Edinburgh would be leaving from King's Cross Station out of London and we'd have to take a train to the Tube to get there. Since we wouldn't be needing the day pass, we just bought a single trip ticket, hopped on at Blackheath and took the train to the London Bridge station. When we went through the turnstyle to head toward the Tube, the damn thing stole our tickets. Well shit. 

At this point, we were in the throws of full on rush hour and PEOPLE. WERE. EVERYWHERE. Very angry, determined people trying to get to work on time. We headed to a kiosk to try to figure out what ticket we needed to get to King's Cross, but it was like trying to crack the Rosetta Stone. There was no one around to really ask, but we thought we'd try anyways. When we walked around a corner, we saw different kiosks and with a bit of luck, finally figured out what we needed. 

We lost precious minutes with our ticket snafu, and we were starting to freak out that we wouldn't make it. As we rushed down the escalators and around to the platform, we came to an abrupt stop. It was unbelievably jam packed with people, with more descending the escalators every few seconds. Can I just stop and say that even though it was still a pain in the ass, I'm glad I had a much smaller suitcase than I did when I was in Italy. Maneuvering through that sea of people with that monster bag would have likely gotten me beaten up.

As we waited, minutes ticked by and no train. A voice came over the loud speaker notifying us of a delay. FML. Out of all the days for the train to be delayed, this was not an ideal one. We contemplated heading back up and getting a taxi, but you saw the pictures. It would have taken forever to get back up the escalators through the throng of people, let alone not knowing how long it would take to hail a cab. 

After what seemed like forever, we heard the train and vowed we were going to be on it. Even if we had to throw some 'bows. Hell, we'd never see these people again. We could just add to the rude American stereotype. We coordinated our exit station in case we got separated and anticipated the madness that would ensue once the train stopped in front of us. 

Madness is an understatement. It was like the Metro after a Cardinals game...on steroids. The next ten minutes are a blur. We pushed our way onto the train somehow - Nikki and I in one door and Brenda in another. All that mattered was that we were on the damn train. That was half the battle. Now we just had to listen for our stop and hope to hell we didn't get pushed into the gap when the doors opened. 

Th next 20 or so minutes were a little slice of hell. I had put on a turtleneck that morning in anticipation of a brisk Scottish afternoon. BIG. MISTAKE. I thought I was going to die. The torment from Harrod's a few days earlier was nothing compared to this. At each stop we not only had people wanting to get on but current riders wanting to get off. And Nikki and I were right by the door. And we both had backpacks. And suitcases. Needless to say we got our fair share of dirty looks and British slang that was pretty easy to decipher. So much for people not talking on the trains. I guess they make an exception when they're really pissed off. 

Somehow we made it to our stop, we all three miraculously got off and found each other and we made a mad dash for our departure platform. We made it to our train with six minutes to spare. SIX. MINUTES. For those of you who know me, I don't do well with close calls like this. Now imagine if we hadn't taken the cab first thing that morning. Because of our mad dash, we didn't get to take our pictures at Platform 9-3/4. :( (Yes, that's a Harry Potter reference.) As sad as I was by that, it was outweighed by how happy I was to not miss our train. Thank God we pre-booked it!

We had a 4.5 hour journey ahead of us, and of course it would be sunny out. It couldn't be raining like every other day when we had to be outside! But, I was nursing a sore throat, some crazy cold/allergy symptoms and an upset stomach, so sitting still for awhile was a welcome relief. (This sounds a lot like our train ride to Florence a few years ago.) The train ride was thankfully mostly uneventful. We occasionally saw the eastern coast of the UK, there were sheep everywhere, our conductor's name was September and the people next to us wouldn't shut up. That's about it in a nutshell. But at least the scenery was beautiful. Stone buildings by the sea, gorgeous views...a girl could get used to this. I can't even begin to describe it. Any photos I took were while speeding down the tracks and they don't do it justice.

Making a quick stop at Berwick-Upon-Tweed. Such odd town names in the UK.

We arrived in Edinburgh, and I fell in love the moment we walked out of the train station. I've heard, and read, that Edinburgh is one of, if not THE, most beautiful city in Europe. And they wouldn't be lying. The sun was shining with not a cloud in the sky, so we had a clear view of this Scottish getaway. Even now, I can't find adjectives perfect enough to describe it. 

But enough of that, we still needed to get settled into our hostel, so I checked out the map and my heart dropped. Our hostel was at the top of what seemed like Mt. Everest. Lets just say that it was a hell of a workout, I was tired from the exertion and trying to breathe through whatever hell my head was putting me through and it was surprisingly cold despite the clear skies. So, I was sweating from the inside and freezing from the outside. Stupid turtleneck. I'm not sure any of us wanted to ever have to do that again. At least the bright side is that it's all downhill when we have to leave tomorrow. 

Our hostel was Castle Rock Hostel at the base of Edinburgh Castle and it was super adorable. It's also rated very highly among hostels in the UK, so we were pretty stoked to be staying here. We arrived too early for check-in, so we left our luggage and headed down the street to find some lunch. I have to admit the thought of leaving my luggage in an unlocked room kinda freaked me out, but I eventually came to realize that people in hostels are pretty cool people. I did, however, take my passport and cameras with me, just to be safe.

We didn't have to go far for lunch, since there was a restaurant a few buildings down. Castle Arms didn't have the friendliest of waitresses, but the food was decent enough. Although, at this point, I couldn't taste much since my head was going bonkers. Dammit. I refrained from beer too, since I was still nursing an upset stomach. Let's just say that I was less than stellar at this point. And I was super pissed about it.

They're really embracing this castle theme on this street.

Chicken, gravy, mashed potatoes and a salad. Not bad.

After lunch, we were able to check in to our room (each one is themed), and ours was Sherlock Holmes! We had opted to get private rooms for our hostel stays rather than just renting beds in the dorm style rooms. It was a bit more expensive than just the beds, but not nearly as expensive as our hotels in Italy. It wasn't overly large, but we honestly didn't need anything bigger. Three beds and room for our suitcases is about all we needed. The communal bathrooms were just down the hall and very clean.

LOVED this hostel. I would stay there again in a heartbeat.

This is how close we were.

Lobby looking upstairs. They're rocking the Scottish flag!

The lobby was full of castle/Medieval style art.

My nook in Room 77.

Yep, I'm the evil villain.

Brenda was on the top bunk as Sherlock and Nikki was Dr. Watson below.

Cute little bed nook.

Some wall decorations.

Our window in the middle of the room.

The view out our window. Hello Edinburgh!

See. It's gorgeous. But, just wait. It gets better.

After unloading our stuff, we headed around the city to sightsee and shop. I wanted everything. From the cashmere scarves, to the tartan skirts, highland cow memorabilia to bagpipes, and heather items galore, I had to restrain myself from spending the rest of my money here. I did end up with a sweatshirt because my fleece wasn't keeping me as warm as I wanted under my rain jacket. So now I didn't just look like an American tourist, but I looked like a bloody college student. Great.

I enjoyed our walk around Edinburgh immensely, despite the fact that my body was trying to kill me. Everything was absolutely beautiful, from the architecture, to the green spaces, to the little alleys between buildings. The weather was still pretty bonkers here too. If the wind wasn't blowing and we were standing directly in the sun, it was warm, and I'd take my coat off. If we'd turn a corner and get a breeze or leave the sun, I'd be freezing and need my coat. But, at least it wasn't raining!

Get ready to drink in the scenery.

This is the view of Edinburgh Castle from our hostel entrance.

Beautiful church right around the corner.

Loving the streets here.

KILTS! I WANT ONE!

St. Giles' Cathedral. I found some fun Jones stuff here.

We stopped in this little whiskey shop and had the best time talking to one of the workers/owners. He had a delightful Scottish brogue, and he was incredibly knowledgeable about Scotch. He was so convincing, I ended up buying 3 small airplane-sized bottles of Scotch. And I hate Scotch. I mean, I REALLY don't like it. It tastes terrible. But, the way he was describing some of them made me think it was going to taste like rainbows and unicorns. Good thing two of those bottles ended up being gifts. I still have the third bottle. I'm not sure if I'll ever be brave enough to drink it.

This guy was trying to be a street performer, but he ended up doing more talking than actual performing. We tired quickly of his shenanigans, so we left. But hey, balancing a flaming baton on his face is pretty impressive.

LOVING THESE TINY ALLEYS!

I SHALL CONTINUE TO USE ALL CAPS TO CONVEY MY LOVE OF THIS CITY!

Are you loving Edinburgh yet?

Look at these buildings. Just look at them. You can say ooh and ahh. I did.

Selfie! We were loving our journey today.

Scot Monument. I was obsessed with this thing. These pictures are a bit dark and don't do it justice, but it was so freaking cool.

I shall Photoshop this one later to bring out its detail.

How cool is this?!

I love close up photos of architecture. It's so beautiful.

We realized that you could actually go up in there, but didn't end up doing it.

Beautiful little park. People were out and about enjoying the sunny skies.

Rumor goes that real Scotsmen don't wear anything underneath their kilts. Wanna take bets on whether or not he's a real Scot? No, we didn't find out for sure, just in case you were wondering.

So perty.

Smiling because I love where I am, not because I was feeling any better.

During our meandering around town, we found the place where J.K. Rowling started writing the first Harry Potter book.

I bet their sales shot through the roof about a decade or so ago when the book came out.

Giant Frankenstein.

I don't remember why I took a photo of this. Maybe because I liked the name.

Holy Scary Santa, Batman!

We found this hilariously named shop that ended up being a great little find. They were just starting to put out new Christmas ornaments, so we each ended up with a little Scottish memento to hang on our trees this year. Mine was a bagpiper.

Beautiful door!

The thistle is Scotland's national symbol. I'm enjoying the play on words here.

I love this silhouetted photo of the castle.

After a long afternoon, we went back to our hostel to shower and get ready before heading out for the evening. Our hostel was hosting a free bar crawl around the neighborhood, and we wanted to join. I just hoped there wouldn't be any crazy Macedonians at this one. I didn't need anymore yellow flowers for jealousy!!

A few things I noticed about this hostel. 1) The showers were tiny, and there was only one teeny tiny shelf to put all of my shampoos, etc. I don't understand why it's so difficult to put in a larger shelf, or even more than one. Maybe normal hostel goers are much less concerned about having separate bottles of stuff for their hair and body. 2) There were no mirrors in our room. Zip, zero, nada. I didn't think it was too big of a deal, I just headed to the bathroom to dry my hair and put my makeup on. Except, there were no outlets in the bathroom. Well what the hell. I know a lot of hipsters stay in hostels, but this is ridiculous. We solved this problem by using the camera function on Brenda's iPad. We're smart cookies.

We eventually started our daily search for a dinner establishment, and finally settled on "The Mitre". This was partly due to the fact that there wasn't a long wait here, and partly because it had started hailing about 3 minutes after we left our hostel. We just didn't feel like walking any further down the street. I kid you not. It was sunny and clear when we left, and within 5 minutes had turned gray and started hailing. Bonkers, I tell you.

Stupid hail!

Since this is vacation, and my diet is null and void on vacation, I started with a baked brie covered in panko bread crumbs and red currant jam. Oh my god, this was so good. I mean really, you can't go wrong with baked brie ever, but add the jam, and I was in heaven. It was so incredibly rich though. I finished with a chicken and mushroom pie (chicken fillets in a creamy portobello mushroom sauce and puff pastry lid) and chips and green beans, all washed down with a Tennant's beer, a Scottish lager. The pie was pretty good, the creamy mushroom sauce was flavorful, which helped make up for the fact that the fries with just meh. Nothing to write home about. I don't understand why it's so difficult for them to season their damn fries. Even a little salt would help tremendously! The beer was good, but it was starting to get lost on me. The small respite I had after my shower was gone, and I was starting to feel worse again.

SO good!!

That's a huge pie!

I was digging this beer.

Brenda was set on getting haggis while in Scotland. She felt like she at least needed to try it, so she got an appetizer portion with neeps and tatties (neeps are smashed turnips and tatties are mashed potatoes). The haggis wasn't as terrible as we were expecting, although I only had a small taste. Brenda did eat a bit more of it. According to her, the neeps were pretty gross, but the tatties were delish. Try ordering tatties the next time you go to a restaurant and see how they react!

Enjoying our dinner. Minus the neeps.

I didn't want a picture by myself, so Nikki joined me.

And now all three of us!

I contemplated not going on the bar crawl, but I knew I would regret it if I stayed in the room and tried to sleep. And besides, I was hoping that after a few beers, I wouldn't really be thinking about what my nasal passages were doing. I'm glad I powered through, because we ended up having a great time. Our guide was an interesting French fellow who had little patience for drunk foreigners. It's amazing he even took the job of being a guide on a bar crawl for a hostel filled with foreigners (himself included!). We were all fairly shy at the first bar and didn't really talk to too many other people. Mainly because they looked half our age. And also because none of them were really socializing either. By the second bar, we loosened up a big more, and Brenda and I played an unusual version of pool with red and yellow balls (with no markings) on a smaller table than normal. We were both pretty terrible, and Brenda ended up winning due to me scratching.

Attempting to look cool. And not really succeeding.

Brenda eyeing her next play.

Inappropriate sign!

By the third bar, Dropkick Murphy's - named after an Irish band, we had started to make new friends, including a few Aussies, some Germans, and more than a few Americans. Naomi was our first friend, a 26 year old Aussie traveling alone through Europe and the US for the next 4 months. She said that since it was close to a 24-hour plane ride, it was easier to just stay longer than make more than one trip back and forth. I never got the chance to ask her what she did to allow her that much time off or how she paid for it!! She was adorable though, and all the boys loved her. :) We also met a German named Matthias (or Matthew) and three incredibly awkward American boys who had just graduated from college. I'm not really sure they ever talked to girls before.

I loved this bar. They were playing great music and the vibe was much cooler than the previous two bars.

We were feeling pretty good at this point.

One more bar in and we met two more American guys (Mike and Andrew) and another German and Aussie who had made their way into our group (I never caught their names, but the Aussie was jonesing for Naomi pretty badly.) For those two American guys, I had overheard them talking and was convinced they were American. Brenda thought maybe Canadian, but Nikki was dead set on them being European based solely on the bedazzling on the one guy's pants as well as the tightness of his shirt. I told them of our little wager, and turns out they're from Michigan. Gee, I go all the way to Scotland to meet guys from Michigan. Well, we did meet one Scot. He was leaving the bar as we were getting there, and he kissed and bit both mine and Brenda's hands. I'm not sure if that's a normal custom or not, but he sure did have a wonderful accent! You can bite my hand all you want, buddy.

We were all having a pretty good time at this point, and we headed to a karaoke bar next. We were feeling particularly saucy, so we decided to sing a little Bon Jovi - Livin' on a Prayer. We had to wait quite awhile though, because some weird guys kept hogging the mic and were singing completely obscene and obnoxious lyrics to songs. After a bit of coaxing from Naomi, the guy finally played our song and It. Was. A. Sh*t. Show. As evidenced by the pictures. (We asked Mike to take pics of us, and he captured some doozies.)

Our group of misfits. Black/white checkered shirt was Mike, red shirt was Andrew, two guys on the far right were the German and Aussie, Naomi beneath them, our French guide being odd in the middle, and Matthias in the hat on the bottom left. Turns out Mike plays poker for a living (I still don't really believe that and his friend Andrew wants to be a graphic designer, but instead he's working on an oil rig b/c the money is better. I think I'll take making less pay and being a graphic designer over working on an oil rig any day!

Nikki, Naomi, and the Aussie.

Too cute! Yay for making new friends....that we'll never see again.

I'm holding it together pretty well. The beer was helping.

Rocking our hand stamps with Matthias.

Enjoying our bar crawl.

Oh geez. Out of control.

This is better.

Andddddd....here we go. Still mostly tame.

Oh dear. Really getting into it here. Brenda and Nikki look happy. Naomi and I look constipated/pissed off.

Deer sweet baby Jesus. This must of been a high note. I think I love Nikki's face the best.

I regret my awful face in this photo more than you know. We were making fun of Jr. High dancing, and about how you have to leave room in the middle...you know, for Jesus. I have zero idea why I thought a bewildered/startled face would be a good idea standing next to that handsome devil. Well done, Heather.

After some enthusiastic cheers from the crowd, we left to go to our final destination of the night: a dance club. I was so unbelievably excited for this. I had been dancing around like a fool for most of the night, so I was stoked to go to a proper venue for dancing. I was sorely mistaken because in my hazy beer fog, I forgot that we're in Europe. And in Europe, they play dizzying techno tracks that MAKE ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE WHATSOEVER! The moment we walked in, I was dejected. Not only was the music so loud I'm pretty sure my ears are still ringing, but the fog machine must have been on level 10: stun. Once on the dance floor, I could barely see two feet in front of me, and we were terrified of what was lurking in the corners. After half a song, we decided this was definitely not our bag, so we headed back to the bar which was slightly less foggy and attempted to have some conversations.

This is on the dance floor. If you click on the photo and look REALLY carefully at the bottom, you can just make out Nikki and I. We were less than 3-4 feet from Brenda. This is how thick the fog was.

Back in the bar area, and the fog was still so intense that all of our photos look like we added a crazy filter.

Mike was thoroughly enjoying himself.

I stopped drinking, mainly because I was tired of spending money, and I had a pretty decent buzz going on. I also decided that one of us needed to be able to get us back to the hostel, so being the map maven I am, I opted for that job. Eventually we called it a night and left to make the short walk home. But not before we stopped at a late night pizza place so Nikki could get some garlic cheese bread. Hmmm....who knew Scots enjoyed the same late night drunk food that we do!

While Nikki was inside, Brenda and I stood watch on the street and did a little people watching. An older Scotsman walked up to us to talk while his friend went inside to order, and at one point, he decided it was his duty to brush Brenda's bangs out of her eyes. I'm not really sure why he thought he had the right to do this, but whatever. Being that he was slightly intoxicated, it wasn't a nice gentle caress of a sweep. Nope, it was a violent, smack ya mama kind of swatting action.....which went directly from her forehead to my face. Yep, he back-handed me right across the face. And I wasn't even standing that close to her. He somehow managed to do a complete wind up and follow through all in one fluid motion.

WTF buddy. I just stared at him and he immediately starting apologizing and tried to see if I was okay. Um, sure man. You just SMACKED ME IN THE FACE! Sure, I guess I'm okay. He really did seem upset about it, and clearly felt terrible. And he was clearly foxed (I picked up a bit of British slang for drunk.) Fortunately, it didn't really hurt that much - it stung more than anything else, so no harm done. I was just really glad that Nikki came out a few minutes later with her cheesey bread so we could leave. I think that guy would have spent the next half hour trying to examine my cheek for bruising.

We made it back to our room around 2:30am, finished our snack and promptly fell asleep. Well, after a solid 10 minutes or so of Brenda trying to get into her bunk. At one point, she was in her bed eating and talking to us, and the next minute she was sound asleep. I think that breadstick was still there the next morning. :)