My Irish friends describe a walk without a purpose a dander. It’s not something I do often as I’m usually setting the pace of the group because I want to get some place quickly. That doesn’t mean the walk itself is purposeless; rather the act of walking is the enjoyment. Rambles are the same, just some more slang for you.

The last two weeks have been full of rambles and danders (sounds like the title of a song).  The first photo shows me atop Eildon Hills (one of the three) that’s located along the borders in a town called Melrose. The hike started off with a trail and snow, turned into slush and brush, and climaxed with a wonderful view of Scotland and England.  I knew I’d get to the top, but it was really refreshing creating my own path… ebbing and flowing with nature. It’s something that would never happen in the states either because the rangers or the marijuana traffickers would stop you.

The next ramble started with a run from Dalhousie Castle, followed a river, and then getting lost across some farmer’s un-irrigated field where barbwire fences were definitely hopped and mud splats made it all the way to my face. It was a fun adventure and a true Scottish moment.

My last dander of the weeks was up the crags and Arthur’s seat in Edinburgh. It’s long been tradition to walk the Golden Gate Bridge on New Years (even if it gives you pneumonia) and this made a proper substitute. Normally I have stayed on the trail, but we weren’t the only ones with the idea of hiking up Arthur’s seat for a detox of the previous night’s events. I guess I’m being reminded that I need to make my own path and focusing on getting there as fast as I can might mean that I miss something unexpected but enjoyable.

I’ll admit, my idea of what It means to be “American” might be a bit skewed.  If I were to choose the “American” ideals that I identify with, I would think of bacon, infrequent voting, and castle. Since I’ve blogged about the first and the second will only bring lecturing by my elders and political peers, I’ll focus on the third! Americans love castles. Ok, maybe just American women, but if we’re visiting Ireland, England, or Scotland castles are always a must!  I blame Walt Disney.

8 miles outside of Edinburgh in the cute town of Bonnyrigg, lays Dalhousie Castle. Serving as a hotel for the last 20-30 years, Dalhousie has several themed rooms proudly telling the story of Scotland’s history in a creative and lively way. I was lucky enough to stay in the India room, which emphasizes the trade Great Britain’s had with India over the last few centuries.

It also houses the first hydraspa (think lounge chair of jets in a pool) in Scotland and a dungeon for dining where I had the pleasure of experience pre-dessert (the dessert that happens before dessert, obv). Hold on, I’m still bragging…  Let’s talk about the salmon, it’s seriously enchanted with some kind of magically smoked spell. I knew Scotland was known for their salmon, but this is the best smoked salmon I’ve had in my life, so much so, I intend on running to the castle, gorging myself with brunch, and catching the bus back to Edinburgh on a regular basis.

If you want a stay that differs from the hotel, motel, holiday inn experience, then get out to Scotland and experience this lovely castle, eerie dungeon, and fascinating falconry.

Hogmanay, aka New Years

New Years Day started off with the pleasant reminder to focus on the things that go right in you life. It came in a subtle, simple way, but was a message I needed to hear given that 10 previous days had been filled with things I stressfully perceived as going wrong (not booking trains, sprinting toward a train with 10 seconds to spare, misplacing hotel reservations, etc). I was looking for the cracks. Reflecting back, it was a pleasant reminder that I can’t control everything.

My decision to finally commit to grad school and moving came after years of ruminating about it. My desire was set in motion after being caught in a summer storm in Boston. At the time, I didn’t know how to react; I was completely overwhelmed. Once the shock wore off and my phone dried out, I had this nagging feeling that Californians have it easy. Our weather’s easy; we don’t have to think about things or be prepared for weather. I decided that I didn’t want easy. I didn’t want to become complacent with a life that required very little thought over the choices I made.

So the irony is, I’m spending this coming year in a foreign country but I’ve been complaining ever since I arrived when things are out of my control.  Who wants to psychoanalysis the future psychologist?

I don’t have an easy answer, nor do I think my days of trying to control things are over. But I have a new awareness of whom I’d like to be and am reminded of a favorite quote of mine, “all beginnings start with endings.” I think it’s a very fitting start for a new year.

A big thanks to Paul for being patience with me and taking things in stride.

I hope all of you have a blessed year. I’m looking forward to seeing all my friends and families back in the states.

Kelley xx

11oo words in 2 hours: I DON’T feel like typing more, but I do feel like posting pictures of today’s snow.  Me and my street, the meadows, and the crags from the corner. I will eventually get a snowball fight in!

Kelley xx

I’ve been inspired to write about bacon as I’m munching on some bacon and cream cheese crisps (chips). I’ll be bringing some back for my west coast homies! Let’s start with a story:

Casey and I meeting in the womb (Hey, wombmate). We shared the same room (mistake!), birthday, and most of the same genes growing up. However, at times we had very different childhoods. Casey likes to tell the story of the day she thought we were getting a pet pig from Rancho San Antonio park. She talks about the anticipation of driving up to the farm and the horror she felt when pinky showed up packaged in white butcher paper. Perhaps this is the Freudian reason for her vegetarian choices. If I were to tell this story, I too would probably talk about the excitement and anticipation I felt; however, I’d managed to put two and two together and realize we were getting bacon.

Bacon’s done a bit differently here in Scotland.

Yesterday, I was forced to send back my bacon. The waitress hadn’t even placed the dish on the table and I asked if she could cook it a little bit more (the description said, “crispy”).   While waiting for my bacon to actually be cooked this time around, I was amazed by the hold bacon has on me… I never ask to send thing back and I impatiently demanded that my bacon wasn’t cooked when culturally it’s served much softer here.

Streaky v. Bare back.

At times I want to yell, “I’m American, I eat streaky bacon. “ Restaurants serve bare back bacon which is more similar to Canadian bacon. Yes, I realize most people don’t discriminate their bacon, but I do. Streak bacon. Crispy.  My birthday was almost ruined because I purchased bareback bacon to fit in with the cultural norm. As it cooked, annnnd cooked, I kept asking, “Why wasn’t it browning? When’s it gonna shrivel? Am I going to have to use cutlery to eat my bacon”

Scotland, you can have your thick bacon. Streaky is a much more fun word to say.

Bacon Rolls

The third thing about Scotland and bacon (and I actually agree with this one) is you can eat it every day! Mmmmmmm. Don’t expect me to come home. No, really, if I eat enough bacon rolls (bread, butter, and bacon), I may have a heart attack and die. But at least I’ll be in bacon heaven.

Misses and kisses,

KB

P.S. I totally support Casey’s vegetarianism. I  wish I had her self control.

You read that right! Sunday was my first First Snow. It’s my first time living in a place that actually snows. Even though I’ve been warned that my excitement will soon be replaced with cabin fever, I’m excited.

I was waiting to be let into the cafe I’m working at before we opened when I noticed the rain drops that were hitting my head were slowing down and becoming floaty. It happened so gradually and then all of a sudden it was legitimately snowing. It was so peaceful.

This post doesn’t do it justice cause I’m kinda brain dead from studying/writing all day so I’ll stop here. I’ll post pictures next time it snows; it’s already melted away.

I suppose I should start by explaining shinty and a ceilidh.

Shinty is a super old sport that’s only played in Scotland. It’s older than Christianity and is similar to field hockey, but a bit more aggressive. When the Scottish emigrated to Canada and played on ice in the winter, shinty evolved into ice hockey. Go Sharks!

Until recently, shinty was an unorganized game that was played primarily on New Years between towns. Literally hundreds of people would play on each team. The ball originally was made from ash or something like that… wikipedia it for more info.

Ceilidhs are traditional Scottish dances full of jigs and reels with some polkas and waltzes thrown in. They’re known for being rather vigorous and the women I met yesterday complained how they often have bruises the next day from being twirled too hard and the like. There’s a caller who initially tells you the dance steps and then it’s up to you to give it a go.

So basically, I went to a fundraiser for a shinty club and it happened to be a ceilidh. Very Scottish night. Here are the highlights:

1. Fulfilling my life goal of being in a Jane Austen movie. Check. Lots of twirling on the dance floor!

2. Having sloe gin. It’s made from sloe (blackthorn berries), gin, and sugar. It takes about three months for this homemade brew to ready itself. I was a bit scared of its potency, so I only had a sip. But I enjoyed it more than the peaty whisky I’ve had thus far.

3. The man that made the sloe gin. He has twins that are about 8 weeks old. Having twins it totally an appropriate time to make hard alcohol. His tie, appropriately had the colors of Scotland and a little symbol for shinty in the center. He kept going around asking, “do you like my tie?” Yes. “Do you love it?” Yes. “You do? You love it?” It took me 5 minutes to realize his tie said Lovat (love- it) above the symbol. He was quite please with himself and I was very jealous of his tie. I only with Elizabeth were there for this moment and could have helped me steal it.

I congratulated  him on his twins and mentioned that I was one. He asked if we had ESP. I truthfully replied, “Yes.” So he asked what she was thinking right now. “Oh, well she’s thinking she loves your tie.”

4. Watching Scottish men get drunk. The night ended by some 6’6” man tackling another dude. A third man in a kilt took the opportunity to lift up his kilt and sit on the other two’s head. I also receive 40 raffle tickets for free and I can say I was lucky enough not to win the dead pheasant.

The last two Fridays have been spent at museums b/c nation museums are free in Scotland. Last Friday I made my first trip to Glasgow with Andrea. Edinburgh is the capitol city; however, Glasgow is the largest city. It’s know for it’s shopping (there’s 2 apple stores there) and for it’s industrial facade of its buildings. Sorry to all the Glaswegians, but Edinburgh’s much more charming.

Highlights:

1. The building itself, Kelvingrove. It opened in 1901 as the Palace of Fine Arts for the Glasgow International Exhibition.

2. 85 expressions: floating heads that change colors dues to lights

3. Salvador Dali: St John of the Cross and Ruby lips with teeth as white as pearls. It was my first time seeing work of Dali’s that wasn’t a painting.

4. There’s some impressive models of steam rooms and ships. Very ornate given how small they are.

Last Friday, Heather, Lexi, Andrea, and I went to the museum of modern art. It was a real treat to have Heather accompany us b/c she’s an art history major. The weather was also fantastic. I thought I was sheltered living in NorCal, but Lexi, being from Arizona was really excited to experience leaves changing color and falling to the ground. Cacti don’t have leaves! I digress.

A sculptor donated his studio to the museum and it was fascinating to look at. The grass outside one of the buildings was also turned into art.

Afterwards we walked through the cemetery. Looking at the old graves was just as fun as looking at the old pictures!