I hugged Danielle goodbye at 8am before she stuffed herself into a cab to embark on a week-long business trip. I hugged her boyfriend goodbye two hours later as we were off to take the train to Edinburgh.
The train was completely uneventful which to me now seems a bit boring. You mean everyone was behaved on the train? No one had their foot on my back the entire ride? People quietly murmured about the Bruce Springsteen concert? Pppfffft.
Four hours later we emerged from the train station and then quickly settled into our very cute bed and breakfast. We walked around just to get our bearings and then oh look — we had walked by everything there was to walk by in the city. From then on we didn’t quite need a map which was a nice break from being lost for 6 months.
We took our time, mostly strolling in the drizzle and swearing under our breath about it being June and why am I in a fleece AND a rain jacket. We had passed a milestone: having spent long enough in the UK to see a fleeting moment of glorious weather and then spend the rest of the time annoyed it was cold and drizzly.
We did a good bit of touristing in Edinburgh, in addition to ambling around looking at REALLY OLD THINGS.
And passing by places where REALLY OLD PEOPLE WERE BORN.
We visited the castle (of course) where in line, a Spanish woman interrupted my conversation with Dave (in English) to ask me if I was Spanish (in Spanish). I said no. I am wondering if Dave sewed Spanish flags on the backs of all my shirts because this was the most aggressive “BUT SURELY YOU MUST BE SPANISH” in the face of “BUT CLEARLY I AM TOTALLY NOT” which amuses me the further we are from these incidents. At home no one thinks I am Spanish. This gives me a sad. Here I am just another girl with a nasal mid-Atlantic accent who wears brightly colored trousers. ENNUI, it runs deep.
The castle looked just like Hogwarts
which thrilled me until I saw signs all around Edinburgh where a few hip-looking establishments had “JK Rowling not welcome” signs out front where then I decided Hogwarts was stupid and WHATEVER, JK ROWLING.
We of course engaged in the BanhMi&You tradition of walking around and finding a bar and drinking a new beer for Dave to check into on Untapp’d on my ancient iphone 3Gs as his even more ancient iphone 3G would not support the app. A friend of a friend directed us to a bar connected to a church where the bartenders wore shirts of the app and I had to drag DaveKlein out of there to go get some food.
We ate well in Edinburgh but not as well as we did in Glasgow. More on that soon.
Edinburgh was stunning. Beautiful. Also, a bit of a snoozefest.
It’s just so touristy and everything revolves around tourism that there wasn’t much real life to come up on. No, I am not buying a kilt. No, I am not taking a picture with a dude with bagpipes. No, I am not going to eat haggis out when our bed and breakfast serves it up.
Though I will say the accents of Edinburgh are amazingly beautiful. It was a stark contrast when we got to Glasgow and would look at each other wide-eyed when someone spoke to us and we had to consider pretending to be Spanish it sounded so foreign.
We were in Edinburgh for three nights and then visited the countryside and Glasgow and then came back for one night as we were flying to Marrakech from Edinburgh for our final two weeks of the trip.
This is where we stayed in the shittiest place on the trip. The Edinburgh Film Festival was going on so there was literally NO WHERE to stay and since we would be in town for all of like, 15 hours we went with the cheapest option: a crappy hostel.
Only when we showed up we realized that our hostel room was part of the University of Edinburgh dorms. So we stayed in a “private double” that was essentially good enough for one student. We almost slept head to toe on our tiny twin+ bed. The staff were all Americans studying at the university and when I decided to puff out my American chest and be like WTF about the tiny bed they tried to play some “well have you thought about cultural differences about what a double bed might be” and that’s when no one might consider I was Spanish because I gave them some good old, American attitude.
Which of course got me nowhere but deep down inside, it felt a little awesome to be a pushy American just brushing up on the line of being a jerk to someone who would understand my restraint in not being full out jerk.
USA! USA! USA!