Clan Victories, Highlands and Interpretations

I realize that I haven’t written in a while and I have so much to say. I guess the thing about traveling is that you don’t always have time to sit and write. I have taken to writing on the train or on bus rides not only to pass the time but also to make sure I don’t forget any thing. Consequently, the following post may seem to go in various random directions. You will have to bear with me.

This is the Falkirk Wheel!

I suppose I left off exactly a week ago, Thursday night. From there I will begin. On Friday, Iain had to lay low with the band. They were told not to go further than McDonalds (only I am aware of just exactly how far away that is) for the whole day. Heaven forbid one of the players get lost or scrape a knee. The remainder of our family took a drive. We ended up (completely free of my persuasion of course) at the Falkirk Wheel. Now, this is something the Scottish government (and only they would) built to lift boats from one canal to another. It is extremely well engineered. I will include a picture of me here standing in front of it, but I definitely recoomend googling it. It can hold the weight of 100 elephants and only takes the energy of two boiling kettles to run. Amazing! Well, we had lunch there and then took their tourist boat from the lower level and then back again. It was pretty awesome.

View of Massed Bands from our seats, incredible.

Saturday was the big day. The World Piping Championships and for anybody who has ever been involved in piping or anyone living in Glasgow, this is a big deal! The weather started off nasty and then, typical of Scottish weather, it turned into a very nice. This kind of weather is all good and well, except when it rains all morning on a Glasgow Green (a very large grass field) you are bound to have to deal with wet shoes, socks and feet for the rest of the day. Luckily, I just happened to find a pair of flip flops in my backpack and so I only had to deal with dirty feet.

So we arrived at Glasgow Green and found my brother’s band (the SFU minatures, RMM) and watched their performance. To my (apparently untrained) ear, they sounded leaps and bounds better than everyone else. Anyway, they only got to perform once, as they were in the juvenile category. Not kidding, these kids practice hours and hours every week for three years all for a five minute performance on the Green. And they do this, year after year, never fail, just becuse they love it.

The Barras Market archway

The Chippie!

There were still a couple hours to spare before SFU performed so our family (along with my uncle and aunt and cousins who came to see the Worlds on their way home from France, decided to go to a walk. We had heart that the Barras market was something to see so we decided to go. A word for the wise, the Barras market is most assuredly Scottish mafia owned. It was a definitely a sigh to see and I recommend it to any Glasgow-goers, so long as you wear your backpack on the front. There are definitely some finds, especially in the antique section, I even found a collection of ever taboo Golliwog dolls for £1 a piece.We ate at a Fish and Chip joint in that area, claiming to be Glasgow’s oldest chippie. Whether or not this was true, it was delicious. Another word for the wise, they take the term hamburger literally and so my brother ended up with pork on a bun.

Some SFU pride in Scotland

We went back to the Green to watch the SFU performances. We had splurged on grand stand tickets because we were told that they would be under cover (man do the Scots have a sense of humour). Even though we were repeatedly taking our umbrellas out and putting them away again, the view was great. They were broadcasting the games live on BBC and they had cameras swinging every which way. SFU did wonderfully, they are amazing to watch. We sat there for the mass bands at the end. There were so many bands, it was unbelievably, and when they all played together, it was absolutely breathtaking. I will never forget that. Anyway, RMM, much to their own dismay, came fourth. Their families though of course, had never been prouder and that is the important part. SFU, however, won a landslide victory and they were not going to hide their excitement. It was really cool to see.

The Infamous Caber Toss!

On Sunday, the RMM band played in a Highland Games in Crieff. Sam and I took the train later on in the day to meet the rest of the family that had left earlier. This Highland Games was less about piping and more about the Scottish athletics. On top of the usual caber toss, they had cycling, running and, I’m not kidding, tug of war. It was also the last Sunday before schools goes back over here, so everyone in Crieff was out enjoying themselves. They had rides and games and plenty of junk food. RMM won this time!

After the games, we got on the road and headed to Aberdeen. We stopped at this really dirty truck stop on the side of the highway at some point for dinner. It was huge and we were the only ones there. I settled for just good old French fries. As my dad has promised, this place was much more memorable than if we had gone somewhere generic like McDonalds.

The hostel in Aberdeen from the road

The kitchen at the hostel in Aberdeen

We arrived at the Aberdeen hostel tired and frustrated by getting lost and my aunt and uncle and cousins were there waiting. This hostel was absolutely beautiful. It was a refurbished old stone house in a very ritzy area of town. The kitchen was huge with brand new appliances and all the communal areas were very very new and nice. This hostel is part of SHYA (Scottish Youth Hostel Association) and I would absolutely recommend it to anyone.

My great grandfather, John Lamb

The next day, we headed to Inverness. We made a few stops in between. We went to New Pitsligo, a very small town where my grandfather was buried. My mum was determined to find the gravestone. We parked on the one main street and walked towards where we figured the cemetary must be. We ran into this very nice man named Scotty. Once he found out what we were looking for, he jumped at the opportunity to be helpful. He walked us to this elderly couple’s house and they too jumped at the opportunity of being helpful, and looked through books and pamphlets, trying to figure out where he may be buried. They couldn’t seem to find anything but pointed out the direction of the cemetary anyway. We went there and lo and behold, we found it! The elderly couple, at the same moment, came running to say they had found it in the book! It was quite funny and surreal.

The five kids outside the Inverness hostel, we look like a Scottish genetics experiment...

We then went to Rhynie and then to Inverness, where we checked into a youth hostel much larger than the previous night’s. There was a French group of students visiting there and they had stolen all the bowls and forks before we even got a chance to heat up our Indian Take-Away. We did get to eat with some neat people though as we had to invite all the stragglers to eat with us after you-know-who stole all the space in the dining hall.

The monument on the Culloden battlefield.

A sign in the Victoria Market at Inverness

Tuesday, we walked around Inverness and then headed to Culloden, where a raging battle between the Jacobites and the Government (a.k.a Bonnie Prince Charlie) took place. The battle field has been preserved and measures have been taken to ensure that it looks almost exactly as it did at the time of the battle. It was pretty cool. It is a war grave site as well, and all the clans are buried together and are marked by rocks.

Me prior to dunking my head in Loch Ness

We then drove down the west coast of Loch Ness. We saw Urquhart Castle. We went swimming. It was nauseatingly cold but it definitely had to be done. We then stopped for dinner in Fort William and drove through the highlands home. The highlands are just beautiful. I have not seen Lord of the Rings, but if I had, I think this would bear an uncanny resemblance to the setting there. There are cows and sheep and just neverending green mixed with heather. There are abandoned ski resorts but besides that there is very little evidence of civilization. You can buy a whole house up there for £5000… if you can find one.

Yesterday, Sam and my dad decided to take a spontaneous trip. They bought a four day train pass and caught the first train headed anywhere. Last I heard they are somewhere up north, Wick or somewhere thereabouts.

A really great store front I found in my journeys

My mum, Iain and I went into Glasgow and did a bit of shopping. My brothers will be getting kilts in our family tartan and so they are researching prices (and they seem to be extremely pricey).

Today I met the North Sea. I decided to take a train by myself up to Dundee just to suss it out. So I got up, and packed all my important stuff (in case I needed it for some reason) and boarded the train. I arrived in Dundee and walked up the High Street and the university is right in the middle of the city. I walked around the perimeter of the University and just as I finally come to an entrance and decide to take it, what does it decide to do? Pour! And I mean the skies just let Dundee have it. It was raining so hard that the drops were rebounding off the pavement so hard that they were splashing my face. I was absolutely drenched. Despite having an umbrella, every single item of clothing I was wearing was soaked through. Needless to say I have all that important stuff I thought it necessary to bring strewn across my bed airing out before I take the hair dryer to them. Also needless to say, I have let myself indulge in one great comfort food: Heinz macaroni in the can. It brings me back to my childhood, that’s for sure.

I went and saw the residences. They seem very nice and very new. I went into the DUSA (the student union building) and caught a glance of the two clubs and two bars that they boast of. I went into the bookstore and then I walked back into the city centre (there are not one but two H&Ms in this city I’ll make my home for the next nine months and they are both within walking distance). Then I caught the train home, where Stirling is full of sunshine.

I refuse to see the rain as an omen of sorts despite the evidence to the contrary. Perhaps it represents the struggles that lay ahead for me in trying to adjust or perhaps it was Dundee’s way of welcoming me. During that twenty minutes of waterfall that came down, every person I ran into smiled at me and we chuckled in mutual despair, rejoicing in the fact that although it is the middle of summer, we’re in it together.

Tesco's very own...

Set Down, Up Lift and Out With

I thought I would begin by commenting on the variations of familiar jargon that the Brits use. Set down instead of drop off. Alight in place of get off. Up lift instead of “please take with you.” Out with not without. There are so many and I will get used to them. I am just warning you all back home that I will be saying some very weird things when I get home.

Also, as much as I thought haggis was just the outside world’s way of giving Scotland a hard time, it really is a big deal here! That or they are embracing the fun poked at themselves by showing it off like it’s something to be proud of. For instance, you can buy Haggis pizza… or haggis-flavoured potato chips (or “crisps” as they are called here).

The main difference between home and here: the traffic. Drivers are extremely aggressive and I am sure that these people are all perfectly nice people but they are not used to yielding to pedestrians. At all. This, combined with the fact that I am still not used to (nor do I believe I ever will be) the idea that traffic is going in the opposite direction!

So yesterday we went into Edinburgh. How absolutely beautiful that city is. Everything is so old but the crowds are so lively, and so international. It is the beginnings of the Fringe Festival and so every street that we visited was just chocablock with people. We had lunch in a pub. And we walked around for hours and did some shopping. So many touristy boutiques. My brothers bought these really cool old pocket watches.

This morning, my mum and brother and me took the 5:50 train into Glasgow and then from the train station took a bus to the airport to meet my dad. His flight, contrary to our disastrous one was free of any problems and he arrived half an hour earlier than expected. He was surprised to see us as we had decided last minute that it would a nice thing to do. We picked up our rental car. Now, cars here are much much smaller than back home. The whole time I’ve been here I have only seen a single pick-up truck and an SUV is not a regular sighting. Anyway, our rental car is a Mercedes (how luxurious!) and it’s one size up from what the website described as “compact.” It would probably fit about five pieces of medium-sized luggage if we are lucky, which will be a mighty stretch when you consider that the five of use travelled here with sixteen pieces of luggage between us. It should be very interesting when we attempt to pack up and drive down to London at the end of August.

I am now off to a Pub Night!

Here’s To My Very First Post

So I left Vancouver at 3:25p.m. on Friday, August 7th. I don’t know if I have ever been so devastated in my life. All I could think about for the next twenty four hours was how much I wanted to come home. I guess I still feel a little like that now but I know that I need to do this (and besides,  I can’t very well afford to come home anyway)

We stopped over in Calgary, and then flew straight to Manchester. I am not sure about most other airlines but on the one that I was flying with, you are required to pay for everything (stopping just short of using the toilets). Luckily, when my parents booked the tickets, they had preordered the food, which turned out to be a delightful mash of stew, green beans and Mexican rice. Suffice to say, I was so hungry, I’d eat anything they put in front of me. I do feel the need to comment on the flight attendants. Each and every one of them had a Scottish accent. I knew that I could have a hard time understanding the accent at first, but it was like they were speaking a different language. I must get used to this.

Upon arriving in Manchester, the problems began. For some strange reason, there was one of those stair trucks sitting in the middle of the runway (as an Arrested Development fan, this seemed to me the most hilarious oddity). Of course, it was not supposed to be here and so while we were taxiing to the gate, the tip of our wing made contact with the stairs and then we were done for. They attempted to fix it (after all, we still had to fly to Glasgow) and so we waited and waited. They finally let us off the plane to wait, and after about two hours, they had finally arranged for coaches to take us up to Glasgow. All was well, aside from the fact that this bus ride takes about five hours, on top of which we had to catch another bus into Stirling, an additional hour.

Finally! Just about twenty four hours after we had begun, we arrived at the Stirling University dorms, which will be our home base (with the SFU and RMM pipe bands) until the end of August. It is a beautiful set of residences. They are very old but have clearly been recently refurbished. Each one of us has a separate bedroom, which comes with a teeny tiny bed, a desk, some shelves, a wardrobe and a sink. We all share a bathroom and shower (or a WC as they would call it here) and a kitchen. The one main downside is that there is not internet here. In order to use the internet, I have to make the grueling fifteen minute trek to the McDonalds just over the bridge.

On Sunday my mum and brother visited Perth to play in the Highland Games there while my brother and I visited the city of Stirling. To my surprise, almost everything is open on Sundays. I was able to get a cell phone (and man are they cheaper here) and now I can call all of my new friends all over the UK…

We also visited Stirling University. Seemingly smaller than Simon Fraser, there’s something to be said for having a university in the middle of the Scottish countryside complete with a lake in which you can actually swim.

Yesterday we took the train to Glasgow. Iain’s band played at St. George’s Square as part of an annual piping festival held in Scotland every year called Piping Live. I have never seen such a congregation of pipers. My brother and mum and I went shopping on the high street. Generally, things are more expensive here but the price you see is what you pay as all taxes are included in everything. This is very unfamiliar to me but it makes paying so much easier.

Today, we went grocery shopping and then I (typically) came to the McDonalds. I have yet to visit a pub which is surprising. Hopefully I’ll be doing that soon. They have imposed a new rule here. To buy alcohol (from the grocery store) you must be 18. They reserve the right to ask you for ID if you look like you are under 21. At the pub, however, you may drink at any age (over 5) so long as you’re with someone who is over 18 (or else looks over 21 and will therefore not be asked to show ID). I am so intrigued by how relaxed all of these rules are over here. But I suppose drinking has always been a cultural thing here and these new rules are just an attempt to ensure safety.

I will be writing soon.