17 July 2011

And the era ends...

Just tomorrow morning and I will be away to America. The packing is as finished as it can be until it is time to catch the Airlink to the Edinburgh airport. As we loaded a couple of suitcases, Matt and I couldn't help but realize how amazing that this year is leaving us with less than we started. It is turning out to be remarkably easy to fit what we have left. Thanks to the merciless exchange rate, we really have acquired very little (teapot, vase, book, pair of wellies and two magnets) to show as mementos for our time here. So many clothes are ending up "binned" or being given to a charity shop as they are showing significant signs that they were always worn under a backpack or rained on constantly. In some ways we are limping home a bit but what better way to show a well carpe diemed year than wearing out just about everything you own?

This last week has certainly been filled some of my favourite things and people to help me feel ready to "get on" with things. This included a BBQ on Portobello beach with the Adams and Mr. Campbell-Cobb.

And would you believe those housekeepers got me outfitted with a box of those delightful Tunnock's Teacakes and my very own Tunnock's Teacake apron! How well do they know me?!

To be sure, a true highlight had to be my adventure up to Arthur's Seat with my dear friend Aneta. We picnicked on Polish crisps, this gorgeous pineapple and almond cheese on oat crackers, olives, avocados and Hit biscuits. When getting to the top, we shared a very "Aneta moment" when she whipped out a bubble wand to celebrate a great year of friendship. "You know Cate, we celebrate your leaving Edinburgh with bubbles....not "bubbly" because you are Mormon. But bubbles!" When taking pictures of this whimsical event over the city Aneta laughed, "Cate you must post these pictures on facebook with song Forever Young".


If there was ever a song to describe this delightful Polish lass, it would for sure Forever Young. So grateful she shared all kinds of young-at-heart moments with me. How I will miss her calling me "Kashka", her (should have been) Polish sister. Seems like just last week she was chatting away at me on my second day at work, while lugging enormous linen bags with her wee frame. "You know Cate, when we work together it is like you have Polish radio". She is a one of a kind so I know there isn't going to be a thing like her wherever I go but how marvelous that this year gave me the surprise gift that is Aneta. Having much to miss means that there was much given.

So how to say goodbye to a place that gave us such a unique, brief but intense chapter to our lives? Closure seems to come in waves for me. Part of me has this frantic compulsion that I need to do everything "one last time" and make it more meaningful and memorable than ever before. Walk through all my favourite areas of town, run my running route, see every single person that has made my year here memorable, etc etc. But that is an overwhelming business to be in, especially when I feel like these last few years have been such a constant transition. Great relief comes in the realization that the memory of a place, person or event here is often enough to say farewell. That is to say, some things don't need to be done "one last time". The first or the routine experiences of it along the way were the significant parts to it. Nothing really needs to be added I think. And so I say goodbye to my year of living Scottishly. Much love and cheers.

09 July 2011

A Journey through Skye

What to say about Skye? There is so much really. It was almost upsetting how much of it that I wasn't able to explore. In that way, and in others I will mention along the way, taking a three day holiday there was almost like a microcosm of this year long adventure here in Edinburgh. What I will say for Skye is that I am have not a doubt in my mind that God created it on the same day he did the Sawtooths, the Wasatch Front, and Barton Creek Spring. In spite of how brief my visit was, it quickly established itself as a place that I imagine will pull at me if I ever chance smell the heavenly combination of rain, sea and pine or hear the a low rumbling of thunder overhead of bleating sheep.

Our holiday began in the wee (but almost alarmingly light hours) of the morning. The moment we stepped outside of our flat to catch our 4:50am train at Waverly Station, the rain started to dot the pavement. By the time we made it to our "Caledonian Sleeper", we were wet up the knees of our trousers. In spite of the inclination I had to be frustrated, how could I expect anything different when heading to the West coast of Scotland? Matt and I dozed off and on during our trip up to Fort William being awoken occasionally by pines scraping the top of the train to look out the window and watch the landscape become increasingly rugged and the weather moodier.

From Fort William we picked up our poetic "Jacobite Steam Train" to take us the rest of the way to Mallaig. This was Matt's touch to the planning. If it's going to be a long trip up, might as well take the scenic route. It provided some inspiring views and fun touches along the way.


In Mallaig we realized Matt was in desperate need to be outfitted with some rain gear. Thus began the short life of our green poncho pics. After we had lunch of PBJs and then onto a ferry that took us over to Skye.

Once checking into our spartan but tidy *Bayview Hostel in Portree, we thought in spite of the merciless rain, it was time for a wander about the town. There were all kinds of views and treasures along the way including finding rabbits running crazy-cute through an astonishingly green field and dolphins jumping around boats moored in close to the shore. Poor Matt's poncho, however, was already nearing the end as apparent in the flappy shreds of his hood seen below.

Planning for the next day turned out to be a discouraging affair. Though we had scoped out the bus system ahead of time, we didn't realize how evenly spaced out each bus would be. With only three routes run a day for each area, there seemed only time for one great adventure and then being dropped off for a 2nd (with no way back to Portree besides hitch-hiking). But there was so much to see and we hadn't the funds for a car rental!

Alas, we resigned ourselves to taking the ambition down a notch and planned a morning hike up to Old Man of Storr in the morning then a rush back to try and make it out to the famous Eilean Donan castle. The hike was glorious and without a doubt the highlight of my trip. The midges were fierce and the weather threatening  but I couldn't have been closer to heaven. Just look for yourself!


So with that high, came a plummet when we completely missed our bus (thus scratching our brilliant plan) out to Eilean Donan due to a complete misunderstanding of how to read the unbelievably counter-intuitive bus schedule. Another tick for how this trip was a microcosm of time in Edinburgh. A great adventure or discovery is usually followed by a moment of utter frustration (I don't understand this country! Why don't they do things this ______ way?) and feelings of complete incompetence. 

Though with that familiar brilliant-plan-failure feeling, comes this incredible ability to cope. So we bounced back by having a good picnic of homemade sandwiches and crisps, then booking a wildlife tour through the Portree bay (notice Matt's new and improved raincoat. Still cheap but not as prone to shred or becoming billowy in a windy storm as that of the green poncho).

This was followed by a wee rest, some chipy (along with some terrible fishcakes that I had great fun pelting mangy seagulls with) and a hike around the shores, putting us back on top.

So we hit up Eilean Donan the next day (thanks to our new bus schedule savvy-ness). And it was a marvel - truly lived up to its photogenic reputation.

I would be interested in learning what the story was behind these wooden sea creatures in the shadows. Indeed, after encountering the campy touches and wax figure reenactments inside, Matt and I were validated in our resignation in being too cheap to pay to get into any other castle until this one (that is for this whole last year mind you). Still the views offered were worth our student fare.

We journeyed backwards a piece to Kyle of Lochalsh to be ready for our 5:15 train. To pass the time we had ourselves a serving of Cullen Skink (the best so far we've had) and took a ride on a genuine glass bottom boat through the bay.

This gave us a chance to get some better views of the only bridge connecting Skye to the mainland, a lovely Stevenson lighthouse, get a real aquarium experience and a close encounter with the seals. To think the sun came out long enough to burn our faces and necks less than 400 miles south of Iceland! Perfect finish.



Finally the train ride back. Such a long trip back - 7 hours. To begin, we were buzzing with euphoria as we watched the intense mountain and seascape pictorial scenes zipping by our window from Kyle of Lochalsh to Inverness. Then followed this subtle feeling of despondency, as if it was the saddest thing that I wouldn't be able to stay and see more of this place. I was just getting the hang of this whole adventure. How upsetting that it was over so quick. However, long journeys can have an interesting effect for closure. As the landscape became tamer and as night settled in, I started to get anxious to return. Suddenly I began to see (and to be honest smell) how dirty my clothes were. I became aware of how much I needed a good shower, haircut, and some clothes that didn't have fuzzy spots where my backpack rubs. By the time the train pulled into Edinburgh Haymarket station at a few ticks past midnight, Matt and I were utterly fed up with the drunks that had hopped onto our last train and were practically running home past the ribald NEDS in the street. We couldn't think of anything better than coming home.

Adventuring cool places, at this "student-salary" stage of life takes a toll and sometimes you don't realize it until it's time to return. This a good thing to have realized just over a week before I have to get on the plane that will take me back from whence I came. Transitions can be a tricky business but it turns that a really intense (both with ups and downs) holiday can bring you to terms with almost everything you need to be ready for the next step.

*In spite of the exhausting format of a hostel we were lucky to be paired up both nights with good roommates. The first night we got a good hour chat with an Aussie and English couple and then the next night with a couple of Canadians lads who had an unbelievable enthusiasm for 80s action films - giving Matt and them loads to talk about. 

05 July 2011

One Last Caledonian Adventure...

At 4am tomorrow (thank goodness it gets light here so early) Matt and I will commence our final Caledonian adventure. It will be a wee three day excursion through Isle of Skye, from what I have seen it could have been weeks if we had the time and funds to explore the outer Hebrides. It should be a mighty 3 days though! Many things on the itinerary which I will save details about until we have the pictures and anecdotes to go along with them. Stay tuned for that...

In the meantime, let me post this lovely folksong my dear Welsh sea-faring friend at the pool shared with me this morning. After telling him I would be away for the rest of the week, he wished me calm seas, a "midgey-free" holiday and let me in on this beautiful song.

Don't know much history behind it except that it refers to the Bonny Prince Charlie who was taken to Skye on a boat to keep him safe. I've listened to it several times already and hope to fall asleep with the lyrics stirring my head tonight.


Chorus:
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclaps rend the air;
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
Follow they will not dare.

Chorus

Many's the lad fought on that day,
Well the Claymore could wield,
When the night came, silently lay
Dead in Culloden's field.

Chorus

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's a royal bed.
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head.

Chorus

Burned are their homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath
Charlie will come again.

Happy 4th from Scotland!

Though I am living in a land of great freedom and beauty, I did have a few waves of homesickness flood in yesterday. Not to worry though, it turns out that a couple of great friends and a bucket of fried chicken can cure anything that ails ya on the July 4th. A good thing too, because I am learning that you can find great friends and KFC pretty much anywhere in the world.