Scotland and York (also known as THE LONGEST BLOG POST EVERRR!)

Phew. Finally got this all done. Y'all better read this...

February 14^th

Yesterday mom got here and I whisked her all around Chester. I got up super early, well, as in my alarms didn’t go off and Morgan woke me up, and I rushed off to the train station, then to Manchester Piccadilly, then finally to the airport where I rather impatiently waited for my mum to walk through the baggage claim doors. I haven’t cried here yet, but all the families were waiting with flowers and banners for all the people they loved and I am a total softy so I shed a few tears over how much I missed my family and how nice it was that all these people just cared about the people on the other sides of the doors. ANYWAY. My mom finally walked through the doors, and I was so so so happy. We got back to Chester, (I was chattering the whole way, because that’s how I get when I haven’t seen people in a long time), and my mom was a saint and listened even though she was super jet lagged. We then went on a whirlwind three hour tour of everything in Chester from the walls and museum to the pubs and my campus. It was nice to show everything off.

Today, we started our northern adventure. We took train to Warrington, met two nice ladies who were going our way, then a train to Preston on the super nice Virgin Rail long distance, then to Carlisle on bus. The bus ride was lovely. We passed about a bajillion mountains (okay, large hills) with sheep, rock walls mom thought was cool, the edge of Lake district, met two middle school guys who could only talk about New York, food portions, burger king, our new prime minister. Then we get to the train station at Carlisle, and it’s painted like Willy Wonka’s factory, had sandwich with delicious cheese, and took another train ride to Edinburgh. The ride in was different then I was expecting. It was really foggy, and there were tons of pine trees. By the time we got there, we were pretty tired, but as we emerged from the station, we were greeted by the most incredible sky line and bag pipe music. Life. Is. So. good. And it was freezing, just like Spokane.

The rest of our day went something like this. We went to our hotel that looked like a castle with our amazing room, went walking, reflected how everything there looked like Harry Potter, went to St. Giles, and went to dinner.

St. Giles has Scotland’s Thistle Chapel, was John Knox’s church, and also the birth place of Presbyterianism. It was really meaningful to see his church, go where he went, see the actual 1500’s break contract, and reflect on all the history. The whole time we were there, a very talented boys’ choir was performing, and it just sort of perfected the experience.

On a totally different stream of philosophy, we saw the Hume statue, and Forrest Baird was right, he’s not as fat in marble. We then heard this fabulous boys’ choir who sang Loch Lomond and Hakuna Matata, followed by dinner at pub where I had haggis, (which is DELICOUS) and my mom had steak and ale. This perfect day was ended with the longest, best bath ever.

February 15^th

This morning we had a fabulous big breakfast, lovely food, with real bacon and fruit and everything.

We spent the morning on a bus tour learning all about Edinburgh, (including about the guy that RLS based Jekyll and Hyde off of) from a woman that I’m pretty sure was a witch in her spare time. I love the Scots. I can’t wait to come back here. We then went to the castle, through the gate guarded by William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, where we saw the room King James numero uno was born, the Scottish crown jewels, Mons Meg, and just overall cool castleness.

The whole time with the backdrop of Old Edinburgh and The Crags behind us. It is such a spectacular dramatic view, it took my breath away every single time. We learned tons of weird facts, like about how poor people used to put oysters on their roof to scare witches away, things about Sir Walter Scott and so many other authors, like Robert Burns. We had scones and puddings and other yummy things, and I really enjoyed hanging out with my Mom. It’s so nice to have her here.

For you Arizona folks, Scotland looks like Prescott in the winter, tons of brushes and grassland and volcanoes that have been rounded down by time and the Picts and Celts.

I’m so excited for tomorrow. I just go back and forth between being absolutely in love with Scotland and exhausted. It’s stunning. Everything looks like Harry Potter and Brave Heart, and it’s everything that is great about Paris and London, but it is so much better. I adore it here. It’s also really nice being here with my mom, eating well, sleeping well, taking a bath, having clean things, feeling stress free. Back to Edinburgh, I love it; it’s so clean, nice, warm, full of history, people, food, joy, music, faith, and magic. Seriously. I can’t wait for the high lands tomorrow. I want to move here. I also adore haggis and the other food. Still need to try scotch.

Did I mention Scottish guys are really really...good looking. and sounding.

February 16^th.

Today was our Highlands trip. Got up had yet another delicious breakfast. Then we waited outside in the cold, I admired a group of Italian guys walking by and then Bill the Scotsman pulled up in our minibus. First we drove to Glasgow. It was very industrial but had pretty parts. We heard a really interesting story about a holy ring swallowing fish . It was foggy. We drove west for a while through fields and sheep to Loch Lomond. I was very excited. Then we got to a very foggy arena, we found out our cruise was cancelled. No matter, Bill the Scot was determined we still have a good time so on we went. We went to the little village decorated with holly and ivy and tried to get to the shores. I kept thinking about the song, but it wasn’t exactly how I pictured it. My mom and I trekked through this bog that had this beautiful Celtic cross with stain glass and a prayer walk to the shores. It looked very witchy. I could totally see Macbeth’s lady friends hanging out here boiling trouble. We got to the shores and it was pretty but not what I was expecting. It looked a lot like the Salt River in Arizona where my family used to have picnics. Afterwards, we were sort of verbally assaulted by this very spirited Scottish shop owner who wanted to tell us all about his pet lynx and imported deer. Then we stopped at about five hundred cheesy tourist shops. There were lots of beautiful wool and cashmere clothes in Edinburgh, but here it all seems to be sheared off the rare acrylic sheep. So naturally, Mom and I bought more shortbread cookies. After that we drove through this gorgeous mountain pass, which supposedly is called the highlands in miniature. Stunning view of Ben Lomond. It was like a combination of Switzerland and Maine and Central Arizona. The deep brown and burgundy of the sleeping heather covered the hills, just waiting to catch on fire into various shades of pink and purple. It was so so so beautiful. Then we passed through town where last Scottish wild boar was killed like 500 years ago. Then we stopped at this little tartan weaving thing where Hamish, the most photographed highland cow/bull lives (he was in the Rob Roy movie). Then we rolled into wooded area where the Edwards (Longshanks and Son) and Wallace and Bruce all fought and lived. The fog thickened. We came through the woods into the town of Sterling with both the castle and the Wallace monument looming in the clouds in front of us. We passed the King’s knot, an old jousting arena thing, and climbed the steep cliffs up to the castle. The city looked like the old Edinburgh, was stunningly beautiful. I know I keep saying “then we….” and “stunning! Beautiful! Gorgeous!” but I just don’t have enough words to describe what it was like there. We did the castle in an hour. From the walls, we saw the whole valley. It has been interesting to see the old architecture. There is so much beauty, but it absolutely reinforced class differences. It’s so easy to understand why Royalty was considered to be given power from God when you compare all these incredible buildings with the shacks the poor serfs got. Anyway, my mom and I finished our time in Sterling with a walk through this super old cemetery. We were about halfway through when the thickest fog I’ve ever seen rolled in and from somewhere downhill, bagpipes began Amazing Grace. Ugh. You can’t make that kind of stuff up. PS, speaking of fog, Scotland is frigid. I mean like Spokane, punch you in the gut, reminds you you’re alive cold. I love it. We then hopped back on the bus and relaxed all the way back. Back at home, went to Italian food and had the best ice cream, followed by a quick stop at the hotel bar to try Scotch. I had The Highlander and Mom’s had Bonner something or another? Mine was better : p We went back to room, and since the BBC sucks, we continued our Olympic marathon. (I LOVE THE OLYMPICS). And enjoyed another bath and poufy bed.

Feb 17^th

This morning we had breakfast, went into St. Giles to buy things, picked up some last minute souvenirs (namely a kilt, jewelry, and more post cards and scarves) tracked down North Bridge to train station. I loved loved loved Edinburgh. I already miss it. I fell in love. At the train station I bought the student rail card and paid for immaculate bathroom. See Manchester! See England! It’s not that hard to have a clean train station bathroom. The Scots, well they know how things are done. Ugh, the train ride was just wonderful, and SO BEAUTIFUL. The coast was a fairy tale, tons on light houses and cliffs and sheep and green fields and wooded areas. The most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, our train seats were backwards, which meant very quickly a very ill Sarah. Then we crossed into England and hit Newcastle…interesting. At least the graffiti was lovely. I was really sick at this point, but found some humor in the fact that the toilet, instead of saying “occupied” like it does in the states, said “engaged”. Congratulations toilet! I didn’t even know you were seeing someone! I mean people come visit all the time but…well, send me your address so I can send you and Bidet a nice set of silver.

We got to York, and were a little put off by how huge it was, both Mom and I were expecting a tiny town. I felt less sick and we walked into town, passing the giant racecourse and a place where the highwayman was hung and catholic priests were killed for their faith. This whole continent is drenched with religious history. York is just like Chester, only way bigger. The rest of the day was basically walking by the river, expensive shops, and closed museums. However, we did discover the International food market, and had a dinner of cold quiche, then a Polish cheese and tomato and cabbage dish, Swedish pancakes with Bailey’s and an Italian canolli. So naturally we felt like death. We turned in early and have now spent the rest of the night blogging and watching women’s downhill skiing. It hit me tonight that Mom is leaving soon. I’m kind of frustrated about not going too; I’ve just had such a wonderful time in Scotland and hanging out with her.

Feb 18^th

I’m really sad Mom is leaving.

Today we got up early, then went back to sleep. But we finally got up and walked into town and had a great day. We saw cool antiques, found this street that seriously was Diagon alley, tea shop with cookies and chocolate eggs, and then went to Yorkminster. This cathedral has half of the stain glass in England. Think about that for a second. My favorite parts were: the Jesse window, which showed the entire lineage of Jesus, the 5 sisters window, which paid tribute to all the women who had fallen in combat for the country, the funny archbishop tombs, where they all looked like very seductive dead priests, the rose window in honor of the peace and end of the hundred year’s war (yay Tudors!) the embroidery, the St. Nicholas chapel, and the carvings of all the British kings. After some time, my mom and I realized that it was waaay later than we thought, and so we hurriedly ran to the Viking festival. Everything was sold out but the Jorvik Center (the main museum), but that was okay. Oh man it was cool. The first part was a Lucite floor over the actual dig of the Viking camp. THEN! You got on a ride. It was just like the Peter Pan ride at Disneyland, but instead of Neverland, you went through what life-size reproduction of York when it was a Viking town, full of people and buildings and smells and Old Norse. Man it was cool. Then you enter the museum. It was super interesting; there’s been tons of research on Viking DNA (from the bones and the poo they found) as well as normal archaeological stuff. We saw a lot of artifacts, like weapons, shoes, jewelry, bones with battle wounds, and other stuff. It was really neat. Seeing as I am Norwegian, it was cool to find out all the havoc my ancestors wrought upon England. Bomb guys. Then, after delicious Indian food, we started our late night travels back to Manchester. I got really sad and cried for the first time since I’ve been here. Mom and I called home, and it just sort of sucked. I had such a great week, and it felt so much like vacation that it just feels awful to not be leaving for home, either home actually, Phoenix or Spokane, but anyway. Mom leaves tomorrow. I had a great trip. I am excited for Canterbury next week.

February 19^th

Mom flew back this morning. I took the train back to Chester through Crewe, which was pretty nice actually. It’s really quiet here on campus because no one comes back for a few days. If you want to see my pictures from the trip go here. I’m not exaggerating, there are about 800. Enjoy!

I also forgot to tell you the kilt jokes I heard.

What’s under a kilt?

The Future of Scotland.

What’s worn under a kilt?

Nothing worn madam, everything in fine and working order.

Football, Tour, Church, everyday life?

Old stuff

Old carving

"Pssst, Sally...I'm not sure if sitting here is the best plan for crowd control..."

Mmmmmmm. LD.

So many things to write down. I’ll pick a few. Then probably write more after.

Last week was good. I really do like it here. A bit of sadness because my flatmate Hannah, has decided to take a year off to travel, so she moved out yesterday. I liked her a lot so I was bummed she left. Mystery flatmate moves in today or tomorrow.

I’ve talked to so many people from home this week, it’s been nice. I don’t feel homesick, but I can tell when I’m missing people, because all I do for a few days is stay at home on my computer. It was really great to be skyped from pancake breakfast though, and I got to talk to Mel, AND I’ve talked to my family a ton. Sometimes I get kind of frustrated at Skype, but then I think about that I could be talking via letters so…yay Skype!

Let’s see. Last Monday I went to club called Cruise with the other Americans, (and ended up seeing a bunch of people there anyway). It was pricey, but also crazy. Every floor plays a different type of music, from like 90’s to hip-hop, to pop. One of my friends knew a guy so we all got in as VIP’s. That was fun.

I met some kids at the CU the next night. I was really tired and kind of fighting a cold, so I was sort of out of it. We (meaning the Americans) all caught the same cold, apparently it’s called “fresher’s flu”, but hopefully it’s done now.

On Saturday Morgan, Melissa and I went to Liverpool again to go to an Everton game. Liverpool has two teams, Liverpool and Everton. Liverpool is the more popular one, but Everton is cheaper and apparently more family friendly (which I take to mean people of more ages can teach me to swear). It was so. much. fun. All three of us loved it. We got within a mile of the stadium and decided to get out of the (verrry expensive) taxi and walk. Thousands of people were pouring in. These stadiums are all old and interesting to me. We found the side we were sitting on, walked through this super narrow door and hallway and then found our seats. We were on the fifth row on the penalty kick line. It was so close to the field. I could smell the players. Landon Donavon, who will be captain of the US team for this summer’s world cup, is currently on loan to Everton, and he was like 10 feet away from me. Gahhhhh… and Fellaini, who’s super young and from Morocco and does all sorts of fun plays also started. I take back anything I said about soccer being boring. In person, those 45 minute halves FLY by.

I haven’t even talked about the fans. The stadium, which is always sold out it seems, is one body, one person, one spirit. Everyone is silent together, stands together, swears together, sings together, and yells together. I know you’re probably thinking, “Oh that’s just like American Pro_____” No. It’s not. It’s utter unity for 90 minutes. Ha, and the poor ref’s and officials. It’s utter unity against them more than anything else. Anytime the crowd gets rowdy, as in the other team is touching the ball, one guard goes to stand in front of the ENTIRE section. I can just see that meeting,

“Yes, Ron, um you take section 52. Make sure they don’t get too riled up, and if they charge the field, just stand in their way.”

“But sir, there are over 400 in my section…”

“Well we’ll give you a shiny yellow jacket of course.”

I should mention, after some conversation with some people at home that Everton is in the premier league. Here’s their website: http://www.evertonfc.com/home/

Everton lost 1-2, but it was okay.

We decided that we each had super power, and mine was hailing taxis. Melissa’s was talking to officials calmly in bad situations. This was discovered when on the train ride back Morgan put her feet on the seat. A man in a bright yellow jacket came by and asked to see her ticket and then began what seemed like an arrest or ticket. We all started freaking out when he pointed to these little (like two inches by two inches) yellow signs behind and in front of us that said NO FEET ON THE SEAT-YOU WILL BE SUBJECT TO ARREST-FELONY-HELP PROTECT AGAINST BAD HYGIENE AND DAMAGE. The guy was really nice, but I still was upset, Morgan was obviously upset, and Melissa was calm. Since when have English people cared about hygiene or dirty seats?? End of story, she got off with a warning, but never again will we put our feet up. I also obey crosswalk signs now too. I will NOT be deported for something like that. Or in general.

Sunday I went to church, and then went over to a couple’s house with about twenty other people. It was nice to hang out with families. The group was really diverse in age, jobs, and nationality. I was talking with one of the elders, and he gave me something to think about. He said “we don’t get to pick our biological brothers and sisters, so why we ever think or would want to pick our Christian family is beyond me.”

Today I went with Melissa and a guy from our church who, with his family, has sort of adopted us for our time here, around Chester and told us things about the history of Chester. I can’t even begin to write everything down, but here are a few things. Mendelssohn and Handel and Bach all three spent time or lived here. Messiah was first test run here. At least four saints come from Chester, or were beatified because of experiences in Chester. In Canterbury Tales, the Miller was based off the Miller of Dee, who lived in Chester. The club I talked about earlier stands on what used to be fields where John Wesley preached to about six thousand people most days from 4 am to 6 am. Below a bunch of stores, like Claire's and Spudz-U-Like, are Roman ruins, mostly of their indoor heating and bathing systems. The first racecourse in the UK is in Chester. There are Norman and Saxon arches everywhere.

The plague hit Chester quite badly, but above various houses where the plague passed over, Bible verses are carved. Many houses, that are now stores, have secret passage ways and hiding spots for religious leaders of whichever religious sect was being prosecuted at the time. These are called priest holes, and there’s usually some sort of one way viewing system out of them so they knew when it was safe to come out. When criminals of the state or traitors were drawn and quartered, parts of them were always sent to Chester. King Charles spent his last free days in Chester, which was a huge Royalist stronghold in the Civil War. Matthew Henry’s biblical commentaries were written when he lived here. There are all sorts of naughty carvings from the end of the Tudor time through the Puritan times. People felt the best way to poke fun at strictness was bawdy carvings on the underside of chairs, beams, porches, etc. The Cathedral is stunning, and has everything from Roman ruins to Norman arches to contemporary stain glass art. King Edgar the Peaceful, King of Mercia, and eventually all of England was crowned here, (and in Bath, but it’s disputed which one was first). All the water in Chester is from the River Dee, 3 miles north of here. The best doughnuts in the world are under the second most photographed clock in all of the UK, which is on the Roman wall, but is a dedication to Queen Victoria.

So there you have it. I now have the Dee in my veins and Chester in my heart.

POST SCRIPT:

I thought of more things.

I appreciate the legal system here. Apart from silly seat/feet laws, they have good ideas. For example:

If you are pregnant and you cannot find a toilet, instead of illegally peeing on the street, you may pee in a police officer’s hat.

If you are Welsh and inside the city walls after Sun down, you may be shot dead with a bow and arrow. Don’t feel bad for the Welsh. They’ve caused a lot of trouble over the years.

I also forgot about accents. Apparently on television and in the movies, the only accents they ever use are super posh London/Oxford ones. Now you know. That bad accent you’re impersonating isn’t even inclusive. I started telling my friend Ben the other day that I now could identify the difference between Welsh, Northern, Southern, Scottish, and Irish accents. He asked me where I thought he was from. I said London. I guess I meant Northern Wales.

On the bright side, the UK has heard my pleas about the leggings-as-pants issue and has offered up a compromise. Jeggings. They are called this because they look like jeans, but are actually leggings. Thanks European fashion, I knew you could be accommodating.