#1: Drink tea and eat scones.

This, I can do.

#5: Eat haggis. I don't want to talk about it (Marmite venture #2)

This may give a sneak peek of my blog discussing dinner.

"If Scotland separated from England, would they use the Euro?" (and #24: the Loch Ness monster)

Alrighty. Sorry, it's been a little while.

Yesterday I went on a tourist venture to Loch Ness! We had two busses made up almost entirely of international students. There were about four locals. The man who gave us the tour was a loyal Scot, though he had an English accent.

(Warning: tour re-cap below. If skimming, just skip.)

It was quite an interesting tour. I don't doubt the guide's knowledge at all! He was quite informed. His humor, however, was either lacking the correct crowd or the correct lines.

In the tour we went to Inverness, Loch Ness, a castle called Uruquoy (or something like that), and a battle field, where the last battle on British soil was fought.

I won't ruin anyone's imagination with our enlightenment of Nessie. We took a ferry across Loch Ness and it was a lake. Pretty deep though! The guide said it was just a little less deep than the hills beside it were tall. I was impressed and felt even less like falling in than I had before. The guide also told us about a man who swam the length of the Loch. The first time he did it, it took him 12 hours. He tried again and it took him 10.

The castle had an 8 minute informative film... but all I remember is 1) St. Columba was there at some time and 2) the original owners of the home (castle) were left handed.

The battle field was awesome! The story: Not-Quite-Prince Charles (the son of James, who never inherited the English thrown because he was Catholic) tried to re-claim the English thrown and the Scottish supported him. So he sailed up to Scotland, gathered troops, and worked his way down the country, capturing Edinburgh, York, and many English towns till he got to London. Right before he got to London there was a spy who had turned on him, so he was misinformed of the forces in London and he retreated to the highlands of Scotland. William (something), a duke of England, then met Charles's forces and they battled on the sight, just outside of Inverness. The English won and the country remained Protestant.

In conclusion, if any of you would like to follow our tour guide, you can follow his link on Facebook. Or, wait for it... Second Life. That's right. They're on second life. You can play a Nessie Hunt game on there too (great, right?) He said we may even get the chance to see him on there! (yay)
I don't know much about second life, but for those who don't know anything: Second Life is a virtual reality game thing where you create a character and literally have a second life. (I have enough trouble with my first life, but to each his own). You can travel all around the world on the game, meet all kinds of people... I actually once met a woman on an airplane who was into Second Life. On the game she had met a man and she was on the flight I was on in order to go meet this guy (for the first time face to face).

Ok, that's my re-cap of the tour (plus some). What else.

Food commentary: (I promise my whole blog won't be about food, but I have to get over the initial shock.) So I'm sure everyone has heard the saying, "You can't mess up bread." Well... Yes, yes you can. And they did.  Now, in defense of the Scottish, they do make scones (a kind of bread, thing) quite well. So they do not, by any means, mess up ALL bread. BUT, the dining service (catered food on meal plan), they mess up bread quite skillfully.  The first morning I walked down for breakfast, I was SO excited. I LOVE breakfast. Then I got to breakfast.

For breakfast, on one table, they serve a variety of cereals, which includes corn flakes, rice crispies, wheatabix (a brick of various grains somehow stuck together), and a common english cereal (oats full of raisins). You then walk inside to the buffet-style area and there is an arrangement of toast under heat lamps. But the heat lamps are actually quite cold, or somehow do not do their job properly.  Past that there is yogurt, then fruit (YAY), then individual tubs full of jelly (much too much for one person to consume).

So, the first morning I decided to go for the bread-- good solid choice, right? No. I went for a piece of toast, which I think had been toasted the night before. I couldn't bite into the crust area so I attempted to peel that off. This turned into crumbling it off, but all the same it came off-- eventually. The center was then a bit chewy, but, it was food. The next day, I decided to go for a roll.. Maybe these would be heated, or soft, or something. No. The outside was much like the crust of the toast and there was very little inside to be spoken for. Finally, I decided to try this little trifle that was wrapped in plastic. Each was individually wrapped ant it looked like a flat biscuit- can't go wrong with a biscuit of any type, right? No. They had somehow doused the food item in salt. Now I like salt, but I don't know how you put that much salt into something. It was like what I imagine eating a soy sauce biscuit would taste like. So, that said, I've steered clear of the bread items (probably for the best all around).

There's also dinner (we are not served lunch) but I will save dinner for another blog. I'm sure this one is getting lengthy enough.

Now, quickly, back to the quote above.

As I said, our tour guide was quite the proud Scotsman.  Throughout the tour he made jabs at the English. He mentioned with pride that Scotland was the oldest existing kingdom in the world. He also corrected many common misconceptions (or misinformation). For example, there is a flower called "Sweet William," which actually, should correctly be called "Stinking William." (For you plant people out there, now you know.)

So, at the end of the tour, I went to ask the guide a question because I needed to clear something up. I didn't expect him to talk as much as he did (though I should have expected this). And before I knew it, he and I were having a hypothetical discussion of what an independent Scotland would look like. He said all they wanted was to be a Parliamentary Monarchy, like Canada, because Elizabeth could actually trace her roots back to Scottish rule, so they had no problem with her authority as head of state. But they want their own head of government. He also mentioned many times that the leading party of Scotland is the Scottish Nationalist Party. We then moved on to economic measures, discussing whether they would choose the euro or not. And he said with joy and a chuckle, "I would love to make the English change their money when they crossed the border." He smiled to himself at the thought. I nodded my head. I felt like I was in the U.S. standing with an old southern rebel, who was just waiting for the south to finally secede. He told me, "You've been warned. Don't be surprised if you hear about it."

So, you've now been warned too. Don't be surprised :)

I like to think it looks more like this

Bog

#14: a sunny day

In ABERDEEN! (Not the norm)

#12: The Pope

I wasn't sly enough to get the tshirt with his face

#9: Tweed

There will be additions to each finding as I find more. In the end you can decide which photo best captures the idea

"It's easier than Rhodes..."

I'm finally at Aberdeen!! All settled in and everything. I went on a three hour shopping trip yesterday. I walked down the main street with a comforter under one arm and a pillow under the next. I took up the whole sidewalk. I bought my pillow for just 25p! (And I don't have lice!.. yet... And hoping I won't).  It's sunny an average of about two hours per day. It's not sunny right now.

This morning i tried Marmite at breakfast. (I think that's how you spell it, but I don't even care to take the time to investigate that.) So they called this "vegetarian" something or other, I don't know. But it tastes like what I would imagine oil, tar, molasses, and salt would taste like. And it looks like it too. I've never been so close to throwing up after eating a food. I tried to wash it down with coffee and it was stronger than the coffee. I've never tasted something like that. I don't know how they get away with even packaging that. I think they must take the oil from packaging machines and put it into the containers. I can't imagine what could taste so horrible naturally. I'm sorry if this is turning anyone's stomach, but just think of mine. So that was my first negative food experience in the UK. Haggis can have NOTHING on that vegetable/oil/grease spread- nothing.

The above quote was given to me by one of the previous study abroaders. So the Scottish/Aberdeen system: classes count for 10-30 credits and the average course load is 60-70 credits.

So today I signed up for two classes.... For all semester. Period. I am taking "Reading Shakespeare" and "Democratization." That's it. And this was advised to me (by a professor).
Before registration, I was hoping to get a three day weekend, but at the moment I have a four day weekend.  I don't know what to do with myself. I'm in shock.

All that said, this may change. I may have to switch the Democratization class out for a different class(es). But that's how it is for now! (Calm down mom and dad, I'm going to graduate... I think.)

Let's see.. What else?

The sun shined for a whole hour today! (60 minutes in a row!) Yeah, that's an exciting event.

I think that's about it for now. I have accomplished some of the scavenger hunt, so I'll be posting that- eventually.

"TRUST ME."

 Oxford as a whole was nice. Not too much to talk about. It's very much a university town, though much more town than I was expecting. There were lots of shops and shopping centers and pubs and then the University scattered in the middle of it all.

   One day I had the fortunate opportunity to go "punting." This activity consists of pushing a boat along by a large metal pole and then using the pole as a rudder after you've gone along a bit. (Maybe like a gondola). 

   My group was the lucky group that got coached until we were out of site (and voice range). The boat renter could clearly see our potential. 

   As we tried our hand at punting the boat renter yelled, "toward me, turn the boat toward me. Nope, that's not toward me. The rudder, turn the rudder toward me. There you go... Nope. Now you over-steered. TRUST ME, do what I'm saying." 

   The first punter responded, "I'm trusting you, I just don't know which way to go!" 

   "Nope, that's the wrong way. Ok, you see. When you turn it toward me, the boat goes toward me, you see that? And your arms, your arms are at your face. Do you see that? Why are they at your face? They need to be out to the side. Trust me. Do you see that now? Now they're out to the side. Se and that's much better. Nope, now they're at your face again."
   And after a bit. "Ok, now you're headed to the bank... And you pushed off wrong. You see the angle you pushed off on, you pushed your bot at an angle. That's no good. Trust me. Oh, now you over steered."
    The first punter was very patient and the three by standers (me and two other Rhodes girls) sat watching the whole scene somewhat amused.

   We finally got down the river a bit. Or at least out of eyeshot. After we were down the river about twenty minutes, we proceeded to direct our boat toward some trees. Then under some trees. Then into the bank. Then our punting pole got stuck in the trees. Then in the mud. Then we were all stuck in the trees. We pushed back branches and they returned to whack someone else in the face. But we alleviated the stress of all this by singing "Just around the River Bend." Once we were stuck, a chorus of "Colors of the Wind" began. We got out of the mud and decided while we were that far to one side, we might as well turn around. So we started back and continued, "Just around the River Bend." All was well. Enough. 

   In the end, we managed about a quarter of a mile in an hour. Good timing I'd say.

"How can I help? HOW CAN I HELP?"

    Just to put some perspective on everything: Josie and I traveled to London (Tuesday-9.14), then we went to Oxford (Wed-Fri), then we went back to London (Fri-Sat), and then to Aberdeen (Sun).

   So, Oxford. We got into Oxford by coach and as we pulled into the coach station we asked the driver, "Do you know a place around here that would have wi-fi." The driver responded, "wi-fi?" (About half the time this gets repeated to you in a bewildered voice. Similar to one you would get if you asked for an underground in Mississippi.) Then, after a pause and a look of recognition he said, "Oh, we have that on here." (Great.) Nonetheless, we carried on. We had packed our stuff down to backpacks for the stay in oxford so we got off the coach and wandered in search of wi-fi.

    We eventually checked into our hostel. The Backpacker's Hostel-- exactly as it sounds. The hostel had an international staff, which made everything quite intersting. As we were checking in, one of the staff came to the desk and said in a thick French accent, "Someone moved my champagne- In the drawer." Everyone present stared back at him. He then repeated, "Champagne, for champagning." After some, "what?"s, by the work of three English-speakers (me, Josie, and the host), we realized that someone had actually moved his shampoo. (Easy mistake. Though quite different to look for.)
   The next day, as I was sitting in the waiting area of the hostel, the host and hostess were Italian. I was reading a magazine and hear the phone ring. In thick a thick Italian accent, the host asks, "How can I help?" The person on the other end seemed to get it. A conversation proceeded. The host walked away and the phone rang again. The hostess answered. "How can I help?" (The other end evidently didn't catch that.) So she tried again- in a very thick Italian accent- "HOW CAN I HELP?" I jumped out of the couch. The other end seemed to get the idea after that. I sat back on the couch.

 

Top 10 Ways to Look AMERICAN abroad

Take my word for it, I know.

1. Talk loudly while walking down sidewalks.
2. When someone asks you for directions, respond: "we're not from around here."
3. Carry bags that could fit you and all your company.
4. Call coaches buses.
5. Go to every cafe and ask if they have "wi-fi."
6. Wear sneakers.
7. Pull out a Tube map- on the Tube.
8. Laugh.
9. Smile.
10. Ask for "coffee" at a coffee shop. (I know, who knew).

"Happy Hunting"

In response to my sister's request and so I don't have to write: the scavenger hunt.

"Sarah,
Good to hear from you so soon. I was expecting that you would drop off the face of the planet for the whole semester.
I look forward to hearing all of your stories in greatly embellished detail. In the meantime, I propose a scavanger hunt. These are things I insist on you doing and sending me pictures as the tasks are accomplished. There may be additions to the list as I think of them. 

1. Drink tea and eat scones. 
2. A sheep
3. Pose with someone in a kilt. 
4. A picture of a member of the aristocracy (anyone with a title--preferably the queen. Or Sir Elton John).
5. Eat Haggis. No cheating, you have to actually be eating it. 
6. The worst British teeth that you have seen. 
7. Try to find platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross Station
8. At a british sporting event (rugby, cricket, drinking)
9. Tweed. Anyone in Tweed. Especially if its you. 
10. The most bland, disgusting looking food you have encountered. *has to be something other than Haggis, you already got points for that one. 
11. A british celebrity. Or an american one if you can manage it.
12. The Pope. You have three days before he leaves so good luck. 
13. Puddings. All kinds. I really want to know what "spotted dick" looks like and why they gave it such a wonderful name. 
14. Drink a pint of bitter in the local pub
15. Run down the scottish hillside a la "Sound of Music"
16. Kiss a boy with an accent (no pictures please...ick)
17. London's deperate attempts to get ready for the Olympics. 
18. Dad and Mom getting lost on a scottish back road (come on, we all know that is going to happen)
19. The most Chav-tastic person you can find
20. The most intensely british person you find (you know, the kind who reads rudyard kipling and rowed while he was at Eton)
21. The most scottish person you've seen
22. The most Irish person you've seen (probably at #14)
23. A sunny day (gonna be a tough one)
24. The loch ness monster (easier)
25. Run across the hill like bravehart (face paint optional, but preferred)
26. Castle. Or cool looking ruins. Regardless you have to act like a disney princess.
27. On the London Eye. With an American Flag.  
28. Minding the gap
29. Crossing the street like the Beatles on the Abby Road cover.
30. Eating Indian Food. Ordered "Indian-person" spicy. Then crying.
31. Something Dickensian.
32. Something Shakespearean. 
33. Kippers for breakfast
34. Snow Angels (but most brits are athiests, so snow-people-that-just-happen-to-have-wings)
35. Corgi--does not have to belong to the queen, but a plus
36. A rabbit hole. That goes to wonderland. (Looking glass acceptable substitute)
37. Wellingtons 
38. A french person (probably looking uncomfortable and attempting to descipher scottish accents while smoking a cigarette and wearing a beret)
39. Photographic representation of a nursery rhyme (can be you posing with three blind mice, a cat jumping over the moon, a lost sheep, you get the picture)
40. A snowman. Dressed as a character from British literature. 
41. Fish and Chips
42. The strangest thing they serve at Scottish McDonald's (You know you'll go there eventually)
43. Find a wardrobe. Find Narnia
44. You, snow, a lamppost (a fawn if you can manage it)
45. You and a stone statue in the snow
46. Turkish delight
47. You and a lion
48. Try to find a decent pizza. Go ahead. Try
49. Someone who's just got back from holiday in Mallorca (you will be able to tell because they'll be orange)
50. Waldorf Salad at a hotel. Don't mention the war. 

Challenge. 

Happy hunting. I welcome suggestions for Japan/Southeast Asia. 
Lucy"

Additions:

51. Must have photo with you attempting to play bagpipes...preferably walking across a fairway on the Old Course of St. Andrews but bagpipes alone are sufficient.

52. Run barefoot ala Chariots of Fire while listening to Annie Lennox

53. sip Scotch - straight up....any Glen....GlenFiddich, GlenLivet, etc.

54. Scuddy Running.....one time

55. Locate a monument or statue to Bobbie Burns

56. observe highland cattle

57. Attend a ceilidh( I have no idea how that's spelled, but it s a party)

Alright. This is going to be a challenge, but it's on.

"A lift is an elevator, right?"

Ok, so it would be much better if I kept up with this regularly so I don't have to detox after four days of random excitement, but here I am detoxing all the same. (I'll try to be better about keeping up)

Tuesday, September 14, Josie and I arrived to Gatwick airport at 7:00 am (also known as 1 a.m.)  And, trying to make my sister proud (that's you Lucy), we looked just about as AMERICAN as is possible. There was no need to be worried that our accents would give us away- our actions did all the talking. Walking to the baggage claim, we almost blended in, as I had gotten rid of one of my 30 lb carry-ons (imagine, it was too big for the plane). But then our baggage arrived. Between the two of us, we may have had close to 200 lbs of luggage (but who's counting). Our baggage exceeded the limit for the bus, so, by process of elimination, we chose to take the train.

We got to the door toward the lifts to the trains and we were faced with our first obstacle: a sign says "carts must be dropped here." Josie connected her bags with bungee cords and we made it to the lifts (though not without a struggle). We got off at Victoria station, and bought tickets for the tube (to get closer to our hotel). But we got to the Tube entrance and... stairs. So we promptly waited for a taxi. The taxi driver watched in his rear view mirror as we threw bags, sounding like they carried bodies, into the taxi. As soon as we close the door, the driver informed us he was read for the weekend (it was tuesday). In taxi fashion, he then circled our block a few times and then dropped off at the curb of the hotel. But, most unfortunately, he did not drop us on the curb-- just right beside the curb. (And with 50 lb bags, a curb is quite an obstacle.)

I ran into traffic and finally got my bags up the handicap/pedestrian dip in the side walk. Josie heaved her bags over the side. We then turned around, and once again, faeed stairs. Four of them.  We lunged our weight up the stairs and hoped our bags would follow. At the top step, we threw ourselves through the sliding doors and the hostesses stared at us.

After checking in, we were informed we would not be able to go in our room until 3 pm, but we could go ahead and put our baggage up (it was 10:30, by the way). So, with nothing but time, we headed for the lift. The door opened, but as we were caught in conversation, it began to close again. In an attempt to salvage the ride, I threw myself towards the door, thinking a touch will make the door retract. I soon realized that in fact, i was being pushed forward, rather than pushing the door back. By this point. three hotel managers had leisurely arrived behind us. They were conversing pleasantly with each other until they arrived at the scene-- we grabbed their attention quickly.

Moving closer and closer to the opposite end of the lift opening, I grabbed one of my bags and stuck it on the other side of the elevator door as to try and make more room between me and the door closing. At this, the elevator began to ring shrilly. At the same time, I was trying to reach over and find some sort of "open door" button in the elevator. The managers stood dumbfounded, all three just watching. I was twisting around to read buttons, and had one leg and a large bag of luggage between the elevator door and its intended destination. Suddenly, by some work of one of the managers the door opened again. I fell backward a bit, but then pulled my bags in calmly. As the doors closed on me, Josie, and our wardrobes (all safely in the elevator) the three managers stood on the other side, still staring, and looking a bit disheveled.



For the rest of the day, in attempt to eat time (until we could go to sleep). Josie's friends (who are local "Londoners") toured us around and we saw Big Ben, The Thames (of course), Buckingham Placace, Covent Gardens, Picadilly Circus, and Chinatown.

A little blury, but you get the idea

It gets dark at what time?

So this is my attempt at a blog. And I must warn anyone reading this, I'm not much of a blogger. In fact, I'm the type of person who gets overwhelmed by the amount of words in People magazine. Because of this fear of long articles, textbooks, and the massive amount of printed books, in general, I'm very hesitant to add to the number of words floating out there in the world. But, that said, I am contradicting my past convictions and starting my very own blog.  I am hoping there will be people out there who are much less intimidated by reading, who will actually read this. 

So, the reason for starting this blog? I actually have something to write about... Sort of.

I am studying for one semester (September to December) in Scotland- Aberdeen. I know nothing (very little) about Aberdeen besides its geographical location. I have also learned that at sometime during my stay it should start getting dark around 3 in the afternoon. Currently, it is 57 degrees in Aberdeen. Fact about me: I don't do cold or dark well.

So this should be interesting!

A few last warnings before I start this: 1. Please excuse my use of exclamation marks, I'm expecting they may get a bit tiresome to those not blessed with an overdeveloped sense of enthusiasm. (They also get worse as I get more tired). 2. I'm not completely reliable with things I'm supposed to voluntarily keep up with (journals, diaries, emails, etc.). This forebodes that I may not be completely reliable with this. I may write on here every day or I may (more likely) write here twice while I am in Aberdeen. 3. Please excuse the parentheses (they seem to be a bit excessive here (I'll work on that)) 

Hope you enjoy my travels! I have a way of getting into strange situations

Sarah