Scotland / Ireland

Last Friday began with me finding a three-inch-long hair growing out of my shoulder; I should have guessed that something was a little bit off.

Friday is when I took off for my Edinburgh/Dublin adventure. I had a few hours to burn in London before my flight, so I decided to venture into Notting Hill. I'm completely shameless walking around with the A to Z map of London in my hand, out in the open. But during my search for Books for Cooks in Notting Hill, I was so lost that even the map was no use. A very regal old woman who gestured firmly with the hand that held a lit cigarette approached me on the street and offered help; she knew of the bookstore. Unfortunately I couldn't understand a word she was saying, so I just smiled and nodded and took off into what was probably the wrong direction. I never found the bookstore, and I'm okay with that (I will make it there eventually) because I feel so fortunate to have stumbled upon a Tube station which got me home in time.

My flight to Edinburgh left from the Luton airport, which is a train ride away. Aside from not being able to make sense of the timetables, I had little trouble getting there. Instead, when passing through security with my e-ticket, the security guard kindly informed me that I had missed my flight--by a whole day. In my eagerness to buy the airline ticket, I bought it for the wrong date. My bargain of a £10 ticket was suddenly a £90 debt.

However, I arrived in Edinburgh to find that, even at 11:00 PM, it was the most beautiful city I'd ever seen. I knew of the castle, but had no idea that it figured so prominently in the city. And the cobblestone streets, and all the stone, and the narrow alleys and 'chases' (I think that's what they are called--staircases that have been carved out from in between buildings) and all the greenery just beyond...... It really is an awesome city. I went straight to my hostel, but I wasn't quite prepared for the hostel experience. I knew that it wouldn't be all that elegant, but I didn't realize that I'd be staying in what seemed to have been a garage with bunkbeds. I slept with my long johns tucked into my socks that night, and actually didn't sleep at all because the man across from me snored so loudly and gluttonously that he must have been dreaming of eating a live animal.

The next morning I found a little breakfast cafe where I had the most disgusting scrabbled eggs I could have ever imagined (I think they were made from powder; absolutely awful), which were mushed up against a can of sweet white beans. I know that this is part of the full English breakfast or something, but I couldn't stomach it. Everyone was very nice, though, and they had very good internet. Next I went to visit the Edinburgh castle. It's been fashioned into a tourist attraction, with mannequins and music and gift shops and cafes everywhere, which disappointed me a little bit. The views, however, were spectacular. I have many pictures, but can't yet load them onto the blog (I'll figure out how soon, I promise.) Then I got the idea to walk to the ocean. Somehow I chose the wrong direction to take off in, and didn't realize it until I'd been walking for at least an hour. In this time, though, I saw some gorgeous cemeteries and churches and other architecture. I also stopped at the Fruitmarket Gallery, where there was an interesting exhibit called 'Preserves.' I can't remember the artist, possibly because I wasn't too impressed with the exhibit, but the galley itself is very nice, and I had an excellent lunch at the gallery cafe.

I then meet up with my friend Meghan's friend, Vicky. We went for a pint and then her fiance Brendan met up with us and we all went to a Spanish tapas restaurant, which was great; then we went to a few more pubs--I had some delicious Scottish whiskey; I'd never liked whisky before. Vicky and Brendan were the most gracious hosts. I mentioned my slight dissatisfaction with the hostel arrangement and they then insisted that I crash on their sofa (I got a much better night's sleep because of it!). And they treated me to the terrific dinner and fixed an excellent sausage and egg breakfast the next morning. I will forever love the Scots because of them.

On Sunday I flew into Dublin. It took me a day to warm up to the city. After being the recipient of such hospitality and being so impressed by the architecture, I was a little disappointed to be out on my own in a city not nearly as beautiful, checking into a lonely bed and breakfast (which was more like a Holiday Inn than what I imagined a B&B to be). I explored Trinity College (I saw the Book of Kells, which I shamefully had known nothing about beforehand) and then the Temple Bar area, where I saw a fascinating exhibit by an early 20th century photographer of Native American Indians at the Irish Museum of Photography. I found some remarkable buildings, but otherwise was a little overwhelmed by all the shopping. I did have a really fantastic dinner at a place called Gruel, though: some of the best beef stew I've ever tasted. The next day I went to the Dublin Writer's Museum, which was a very cool place with first editions of Wilde, Joyce, Beckett, etc, as well as other items such as Beckett's telephone and Joyce's piano, and then took my lunch into the park on the south side (I can't remember it's name right now.... Saint something). I met up that night with a friend of my former colleague Wendie, named Aisling. She is a great deal of fun, and showed me around the city, offering Irish names for some of the statues (the statue of James Joyce is known as 'The Prick with a Stick'). She took me out for a pint, of course, then we went for dinner to a delicious Italian place, and then out for a pub crawl that ended in me not being quite so bothered by the cigarette burns in my B&B bedspread, which had so kept me from being comfortable the night before.


At Aisling's recommendation, I took the Dart (a train) out of the city to Howth, a fishing town that was exquisite, except that I had a lunch that was pretty bad--a chicken and mushroom pie that tasted like canned clam chowder with a slab of puff pastry on top. When I returned to Dublin, I bought some Irish cheeses from Sheridan's Cheesemonger (which Aisling had also recommended that I visit) to bring back to London with me. Those were delicious.

In the end, I left Dublin quite fond of it. And now I'm back in London with my terrific hosts Dilys and Tass, exhausted, with the mishaps behind me (aside from a £22 ticket I got on my way back in... it was unjust, I'm going to appeal) and ready for bed. I've already worn my shoes thin and will have to pick up some new ones tomorrow.