The downside of staying in the middle of everything is that noise is a given. We were woken up early to the sound of hammering – metal on metal. Neither of us were sure we could get back to sleep, but alas, all of a sudden I woke up to realize the Gaudi tour we’d booked the previous day was starting in 20 minutes!

We rushed to get ready and speed-walked to our meeting spot. The upside of staying in the middle of everything is you can get to pretty much any tour meeting spot in 10 minutes or less.

This tour brought us to five main works of the architect Gaudi, whose elaborate, garish style is now a trademark of Barcelona. Stops included a lamp post (his first and only commission from the city itself – he was not the easiest person to work with), a home he built for his patron that included elaborate ironwork (soldiers used it as a barracks during the civil war – what a sight that would have been!), two homes, and the Sagrada Familia.

Up until the early 19th century, Spain refused to let the City of Barcelona extend beyond the city walls, causing terrible living conditions as everyone was so squashed together. When they finally were able to expand, wealthy people built lavish homes, including the Casa Batilló. Gaudi did not leave any records of the inspiration or “meaning” behind his work, however the story our guide gave that I thought fit best was that this home was inspired by the story of St. George and the Dragon, the patron saint of Catalonia. The roof looks very much like a dragon’s back, the balconies could very well represent the skulls of those the dragon killed, and the chimney looks very much like a lance skewering the scaled roof. It even has a flower of some kind on the point of the lance. The story says that the blood spilled from the dragon soaked into the ground and roses sprung from the carnage. Our guide showed us photos of the inside as well that corroborate this interpretation – fireplaces that resemble bellies, staircases that look like vertebrae. Very cool.

Or, it could be an homage to carnivál. No one knows.

The second home we saw, popularly known as La Pedrera (the Quarry), was commissioned after the homeowner saw the George and the Dragon home being built and the acclaim it won. The final product, however, was not well liked by the public nor the homeowner’s wife. She even plastered over the marvelously intricate ceilings he created. Time, however, smiled more fondly upon Gaudi and his work, as it is now a much loved piece of the city and designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1984. (Also, apparently there are a couple families living in 1950s rent-controlled apartments within this home paying €500 a month for 4300 square feet!)

Finally, we arrived at the Sagrada Familia – the most recognizable facade in the city, even though it is under construction – and has been for over 100 years. The church is an imposing figure (I think I actually gasped upon exiting the metro station!). The eight visible spires (of which there will be 12 upon completion – on for each apostle) are massive, and it is impressive to think that the remaining pillars (representing Jesus and Mary) will reach even higher, stopping just one meter below the height of Montjuïc (which, we learned, is the highest point in the city).

The Sagrada Familia has three facades. The most complete one was completed by Gaudi himself and represents the Nativity story. Being a perfectionist, Gaudi actually used human models as moulds for his figures, including miscarried fetuses as the models for the babies. I didn’t get a close look, but apparently the donkey Mary is riding on is rather droopy eyed and ear’d because the animal modeling for it was chloroformed (Gaudi loved animals and refused to kill an animal to use as a model).

During the Civil War, the rebels/anarchists were on a mission to burn and destroy everything related to religion, as the church had sided with the Fascists in Spain. The Sagrada Familia was spared, however, due to a bridge behind the Nativity scene, which they realized would make a good spot for scouting and shooting.

The second side has been done primarily by a modernist artist, whose figures are much more geometric and abstract. This artist, purposely chosen to reflect the passage of time from Gaudi to the present, included two homages to Gaudi including a “portrait” within the facade and a number of the Roman guards look an awfully lot like the chimneys on the La Pedrera.

Gaudi passed away after being struck by a tram. The driver and many passers by thought he was a homeless man as, being as eccentric and obsessed with his work as he was, he was terribly thin and rarely changed his disheveled clothes. The full Sagrada Familia is set to be completed in 2026, the 100th anniversary of his passing. This all reinforced, for me, that architects are perhaps as close as humans can come to immorality.

After all that, we took a moment to cool off with a drink, reapply sunscreen, and plan the rest of our day. Being a Monday, many museums were closed, so we headed for the one that was open. The CosmoCaixa was a science museum in an area of the city we’d only seen from the top of Montjuïc. At the very top of this hill (mountain?) is Tribidabo, a retro amusement park which we didn’t enter, but the ferris wheel and main building sure made an interesting site against the bright sky!

Entering the CosmoCaixa, we had no idea what we were in for (I’d made a note from some book saying it was a Amazonian Zoo …). It was very quiet in the building and we trepidatiously made our way five stories down a spiral ramp. Strung alongside the ramp was a winding, flexible tube with dates noted on it. I didn’t realize what these were until Ray pointed out that it was a timeline starting when the earth was formed. About halfway down the ramp, the timeline noted when the first single cell organisms were formed (sans nucleus and mitochondria), and at the bottom of the ramp, five floors down, was when those cells developed more complexity, paving the way for life as we know it. At the end of our time at CosmoCaixa, we stepped into a room, no larger than our living room, that mimicked the same space-as-representation-of-time concept – this tiny space encompassed everything from the age of the Egyptian pharaohs to modern times. Kind of puts things in perspective.

We spent hours and hours at the museum, looking at fossils, playing with physics experiments and optical illusions, reading about the development of languages, peering through magnifying glasses at bugs encased in amber, and more. But by far our favorite part was the “Flooded Forest” – a giant window spanning the full five floors housed alligators, capybara, exotic birds, giant fish, stingrays, snakes, and, of course, a duck. You could even go in and see them up close.

All of a sudden, the sun was lower in the sky that we’d anticipated. We hurried back to our place to pack for the beach, but realized we had some more pressing matters we needed to attend to. For Ray, it was checking in for our flight tomorrow – and realizing we needed to find a way to print our boarding passes. For me, it was finding churros. The urgency of my need prevailed and we rushed out of the apartment, only to realize I didn’t know where the churros place I’d found was – and that we’d forgotten Ray’s phone, making finding churros AND printing boarding passes a significant challenge. I gave up on churros as my sense of direction in Barcelona’s windy streets was limited, so we attempted to find a place to print. Our Airbnb host told us to look for a locutorio (internet cafe), but we couldn’t find one. Knowing how helpful hostel staff are, we ducked into one to see if they’d help us print. The staff person agreed, but their internet wasn’t working, so we were off to find another solution. After looking around, asking at a hotel, and a little complaining (who, me?), we finally found one, printed our passes, and all was well with the world again.

Relieved, but with blistered toes and the sun setting, we opted for dinner at a nearby place instead of heading to the beach for the last chilly rays of the day. There was a wait, so we meandered about the area, took a photo with Fernando Botero’s famous
chunky cat statue, and watched dogs and people for a while before sitting down to cava sangria, octopus, meatballs, and iberian ham. Tummies full, we headed home for our last night sleeping with wide open doors.

I never did get my churros … guess I’ll have to make a Costco run when I get home.

So I have been derelict in my responsibility to write for yesterday, so Jessie is making me write for both yesterday and today. Forgive me for getting behind, but there’s just so much to do around here!

Day 2

Barcelona is our only location that has a proper beach, so we wanted to take advantage of it. Our planning for that day included, and was limited to, a walking tour, eating, drinking, and beach time.

The day began by sleeping in. After getting a good amount of rest, we grabbed some pastries and headed to our walking tour at 11:00. We met our walking tour and wandered from old building to old building. It was hard to follow what the guide was saying, as he was being constantly interrupted.

One thing that I have learned about Barcelona is that it is loud. If you are anywhere in the main tourist areas, there will be a combination of musicians, dances groups blasting music from a speaker, crying children, people trying to sell you things, barking dogs, and crowds of chattering humans.

At one point during the tour, the guide had to pause because a man was blowing large bubbles in our direction.

We learned about current events in Spain, seeing many different flags with different meanings. The yellow flag with four red bars represents Catalonia, the eastern region of Spain that includes Barcelona. It borders France, and its language echoes that. They speak their own language: Catalan, which is is a language distinct from Spanish. Catalan also has influences from French and Portuguese.

There is a movement to remove Catalonia from Spain, which is reflected in the flags that you will see hanging from their terraces. In addition to the yellow and red flag, some have a blue triangle with a white star on the side, resembling the flag from Puerto Rico. Houses bearing this flag show support for an independent Catalonia.

Similarly, flags with a yellow triangle and a red star show support for an independent Catalonia that incorporates some older territories from France. Both are fairly common to see.

As a side note: I find it interesting that with each location we are visiting, we are moving one step backwards in the history of world economic centers: London, Amsterdam, Barcelona, then Rome.

After the tour ended, we returned to our AirBnB to nap a bit more and prepare for the rest of our day: Tapas and Beach. Tapas were had at Can Eusubio, with a bowl of paella and some kind of noodle dish that I can’t recall the name of. We also had a pitcher of Orange Cava Sangria.

After lunch, we made our way to the beach where we spent the rest of the daytime hours reading, swimming, and sleeping. A curious thing that I’ve noticed about the beach in Barcelona is how some groups just decide to stand up for hours on end, rather than sitting down.

As the cool air of the evening came in, we left to find a late night dinner of more tapas. The place we ended up at was located in the middle of La Rambla, and had advertised a good deal. The food and drink ended up being pretty mediocre, but the people watching was fantastic.

Returning home, we ended the evening staring at the people who were still out and about in the square that our host is located at. It being after midnight, it was astonishing to see children still at the playground at 12:30. These kids can stay up later than I can!

Day 3

Today started out a lot like yesterday did. We had one big plan: Make it to Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, then end another day at the beach. This museum is situated east of where we are staying. But first we had to have breakfast. We stopped at a local restaurant and got what they called a “Snack”, which was a half baguette of bacon, eggs, cheese, and a tomato sauce. We returned to our place, ate our quarry, and watched the flea market in the plaza next to us: Plaça de Salvador Segui.

The path to the museum was a climb up twisted streets and beautiful gardens. The sky was just gray enough to make the sun-averse redhead in me more comfortable. This was the beautiful day that I was hoping for! Up the side of the foothill, there were actual flowers and grass, and fountains everywhere! I spent so much time enjoying it, that we arrived at the museum a mere half hour before it closed!
We attempted to get as far through one exhibit as possible, but ran out of time, and were kicked out by an irritable staff. The museums here are not as easy to schedule around as other museums, with early closings on Sundays, different costs at different times, and some being entirely booked (I’m looking at you, Museo Picasso). Being kicked out, we took the scenic way out of the building, which routed us through what looked like a giant marble colosseum. I’ve not learned what that’s for yet.

The view through the museum’s giant glass doors was a great vista of the city below. But we needed to climb higher.

We meandered through several different parks, with even more elaborate fountains, up to Castle Montjuïc. We didn’t end up seeing the inside of the castle, but the walk around the castle was pretty interesting in its own right. Apparently they have various programs in the moat. Most notably, they have an archery range, and an outdoor movie that you can pay to attend.

From the castle, we walked to the nearby Cemetiri de Montjuïc, which was closed by the time we got there. The exterior walls of it look like an old castle, but the individual graves in it look like stacks of TVs.

The road from the cemetery lead us past a sports complex where we overheard some Arcade Fire tunes (a favorite band of mine, who is coincidentally in town on Tuesday, albeit at a different venue). From there, we stopped at a nearby reflecting pool at the Plaça d’Europa, where we rested in the shade watching a few small dogs play in the pool. Across the pool from us came the sounds of a practicing hand drum ensemble.

Already evening now, we left for our home-away-from home. We passed by the plaza El Poble Sec and found a place to eat pintxos. These are essentially skewered hors d’oevres that you pay for individually. After having our fill, they counted up our skewers and drinks, and billed us. We were on our way back home.

 

The flea market was just closing down. There was an uninteresting movie in the theater we had been meaning to go to. I’m not used to traveling for relaxation, but I think that Barcelona is trying to get me to loosen up. I won’t be able to see everything that I want to. Museums will be closed. Parks will be closed. It’s entirely possible that I don’t get to try every kind of tapas in the city. There will be missed opportunities.

However, I found myself on a walk on a sunny day, with fresh air, great food, a wonderful view, and my favorite travel companion. I don’t think I could’ve planned it any better.

-Ray

Okeedokee – we have internet again, huzzah! If you’re interested in seeing more photos from Amsterdam, I just went in and uploaded to those days.

So, we woke up early this morning to catch our last breakfast at the bus and the first shuttle in to Holendrecht station and then a train to the airport. Our plane was pretty tiny (poor Ray!) and full of the most chatty group of Dutch folks you’ll ever care to meet. Upon landing in Barcelona, we were informed that the airport workers were on strike so we were stuck in the plane until they could convince the van drivers to come get us. We speculated that we may have to use the inflatable emergency slides to get out of the plane, but they found some stairs for us.

Any new city we’re in involves a learning curve of the local transit system. Amsterdam was really confusing as (Ray’s friend informed us) each “kind” of transit (train, bus, etc.) is owned by a different private company and you therefore have to buy a different ticket for each.

In preparation for Barcelona, we’d purchased an all-access transit pass online ahead of time and just needed to trade in our printed voucher for our tickets. Which sounded easier than it turned out to be, between the van ride from the plane to an odd part of the airport, to finding the metro area, to finding the place to exchange the voucher, to finding the “aerobus” which was supposed to only take 30 min, but accidentally getting on the train instead which was really late and then stopped in the middle of a field for a good 15 minutes with no explanation… Getting on the tram was much faster and more reliable, but you can imagine our relief at arriving at our Airbnb after a crowded walk down Las Ramblas.

Our host was worried about us (having expected us an hour sooner) but soon set to showing us the beautiful little space we’ll be occupying. With high ceilings and doors that reach the length of the wall onto our own little balcony, full use of the living room (with similar doors looking out onto a public square) and kitchen, and INTERNET, we are happy campers.

We’d neglected to eat and so were pretty ravenous at this point. Ray found a tapas bar that looked good so, changing out of our sweaty travel clothes, we headed out to find this place. After a good 10 minutes of walking around, we realized it was, in fact, next to the public square that our living room overlooks!

Our server spoke very little English and, becoming frustrated by the sheer amount of food we were ordering, asked his colleague to tell us in English that we really shouldn’t order as much as we were. Settling for prawns in guacamole and “supernachos” and a couple tasty drinks, we enjoyed the open air, people watching, and, well, the food.

Following dinner, we took a walk up and down Las Ramblas, a long, tourist-heavy street full of vendors, food stands, street performers, and more. We were determined to find the beach that I remembered so fondly from my trip here in high school and, alas! There it was. As beautiful as I remember, we watched the waves, the clouds, the sea, and the people (oh, the people!) until the sun set.

It began getting chilly so we headed back. I had to resist the urge to drink every cold, sweet thing they were selling on the side of the street, knowing that what I really needed was water. We stopped in at a little market to grab some water for our stay and a couple beers to enjoy on our terrace while we updated you all on what’s going on.

So, that’s us! Just enjoying the sounds and smells of our neighbors enjoying their evening meals, with our window/door open and a cold drink in our hands. Life is very, very good.

-Jessie

Yesterday was spent visiting some tourist spots that we had missed. We had a slew of museums on our list, but we also wanted to meet up with a friend of mine from Oslo.

As this was our last day in Amsterdam, it was obvious that we needed to get more frites. We stayed with with the classic knoofloksaus, but this time also with the joppiesaus. I learned that knoofloksaus is garlic based, but I still don’t know what was in the joppiesaus. Now professional frite eaters (friters?), we got a large. This may have been a little too much. We huddled around the warm and crispy potatoes, eating them while our umbrellas protected us and our loot from getting moistened by the rain.

With a little time to spare, we made our way to the Museum Our Lord in the Attic, which is a hidden church. That is to say, in the 17th century, when Catholicism (amongst other religions) were outlawed, people built hidden churches to practice their religions in secret. This church was not actually much of a secret, but was tolerated mostly because it’s attendees and founders were important businessmen.

It’s also worth noting that it was a lot bigger than it looks, as we found it hard to leave the building. When we thought we were done, there were several more rooms left. Only after another 10 to 15 minutes of audio tours were we allowed to escape.

My friend Tim is an Amsterdammer. He did part of his undergraduate with me at the University of Oslo. We met up for a coffee and a chat at the Quartier Putain, a literal coffee shop in the red light district. We learned that with the UK leaving the EU, there was a lot of fear that the Netherlands would go the same route. He said that should there be a referendum, it was highly likely that they would vote to leave the EU.

He contrasted the perceived tolerance that Amsterdam shows to tourists, with it’s attitudes towards drugs and prostitution, with a budding nationalist movement with a fear of immigrants.

From there, we said our goodbyes and took the tram to the Natura Artis Magistra, which is the zoo in the southeast. Around there there were a few museums that we were interested in: The Hollandsche Schouwburg (Holocaust Museum) and the Versetsmuseum (Dutch Resistance Museum). Unfortunately, both were closed by the time we got there, so we instead opted to walk around the outside of the zoo. This offered us views of flamingos, alpacas, and various birds of paradise.

From there, we went to Brouwerij ‘t Ij, a brewery under a windmill. We grabbed a quick sampling of beers, and relaxed on the patio. After a bit, we moseyed to a nearby park where we watched crows, pigeons, doves, and herons compete for bread.

The sounds of a nearby protest drew us over to a National Slavery Commemoration. At one end of the park, a group of people wearing formal attire behind a speaker at a podium. At the other end, there was a crowd of protestors blowing whistles and noisemakers to try to detract from the event. Not having a clue what anybody was saying, we had to look it up later. Appears to have been a conflict with changing the day of the memorial.

We returned to our hostel, stopping for döner kebab along the way. By the time we made it back, it was dark. With a load of laundry running, we went off to explore an island park that is on our lake. A few last minute documents needed to be printed, but the evening ended early in anticipation of an early trip to the airport in the morning.

-Ray

Following breakfast in the breakfast bus, we headed to Amsterdam Centraal to catch our bus out to Zaanse Schans. As we got off the bus, we were bombarded by the smell of chocolate and biscuits wafting from the Verkade Paviljoen. Following our noses, we were admonished by the shop keeper for poking our noses in to the chocolate factory without a ticket. Undeterred, we rounded the corner and our breath was taken away by the sight.

This is where they brought most of the country’s remaining windmills in the 1970’s. It was rather stunning: seven working windmills creating oil and paint, sawing wood, and more. The *sound* of the wind in the fabric of the sails was something I will never forget.

The path from the entrance to the windmills was purposely routed through their cheese shop with tons of free samples (poor us!). Cow cheese, goat cheese, cheese with lavendar, cheese with garlic, cheese with vanilla. It was a great way to start our day!

The windmills each charged an entry fee, so we satisfied ourselves by enjoying the sights and sounds of the countryside and the river, reading about the mechanics of each mill as we passed. A thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.

Next, we took the train to the town of Edam. I am in love.

Alighting from the bus, we walked down a cobblestone street among sweet little buildings and shops. The shop owners had strung umbrellas above the street which blew jauntily in the wind. We stopped in at a store advertising broodje (which Ray knew as little sandwiches from the Amsterdam Bar in St Paul). The shop was essentially a deli. Ray asked about broodje and the woman behind the counter (true to the way in which our tour guide yesterday described “authentic” shop keepers / wait staff would act) seemed annoyed and pointed out that she only had a few pieces of bread left. We loaded them up with salami and cheese and grabbed two Trappist beers (made by monks) and headed out to eat our lunch on a bench next to a canal. It was so quiet and peaceful and no one spoke English. This was everything I’d been wanting from a trip to the Netherlands.

After mingling with the ducks and birds for a while (or, more accurately, after they got wise to the fact that our sandwiches were gone), we strolled through the streets and over canals, peeking into the windows of these traditional looking homes. Large

picture windows on the street revealed equally large windows at the back overlooking fields of grazing cows or the sea, depending on the side of the street. I met so many smiles as we walked (including folks sitting on their couches as I so tactlessly peered into their houses!)

We made our way past all of these houses to the sea side and sat for ages admiring the limitless sky, the diving mallards, the ducks building nests in the reeds … we even got to see a heron catch a fish!

As the clouds became grayer and heavy with rain, we made our way back to our bus stop, ending our evening in our cute little trailer with meat,
cheese, strawberries and stroopwaffel.

-Jessie

Q & A: Responding to comments so far!

1. Our laundry is holding out just fine (thanks, Kaija!)

2. Our itinerary: London > Edinburgh > Glasgow > Amsterdam > Barcelona > Rome > Budapest > Stockholm

3. We are in Amsterdam for one more day

4. We wish you could be here with us too!

It’s been a whole two days since we wrote something, but we are alive. Just had problems with our electricity situation. Essentially, the only working power socket in our room at the hostel is too deep for the adapter I brought, so I had to pick something up before I could write.

Yesterday we left Scotland. We said our goodbyes to Kaija and took a cab to the airport. Our flight wasn’t until 1:30, but we got their early to be safe. We hung out in the airport for a while, having some time to catch up with the Game of Thrones finale. We volunteered to put our baggage into the plane’s hold, and got on the plane.

I get nervous about flying, which I know is obviously silly. It’s probably a healthy reaction for a land-based mammal to have, but it’s less than desirable. This was exacerbated by the flight staff telling us that one of the engines was not working. He explained that the rear engine, which powers the air conditioning was not starting on its own, and that the delay we were encountering was because they had to start it from the ground using a large block vehicle.

The flight itself ended up being unremarkable, and arguably the most comfortable. Apparently easyJet had better leg room than our other planes thus far. I used the flight to finish up Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle (a good read, that I’m not sure I yet understand).

We made it to the airport, took a train into town, and stowed our luggage in a locker at the central station. It wasn’t until the evening that we were ready to explore the city. After acquainting ourselves with the layout and wandered around the canals a bit. We found a frites (fries) vendor and ordered a bag of frites with curry sauce and one which I can’t spell. Knoopflok…. something like that.

 

We ended the evening by buying sandwich ingredients, some wine, and making our way back to our hostel by taking a train to a shuttle service offered by the hostel.

We had been looking forward to this hostel the most out of any of our stays. It’s essentially a trailer park with small camper trailers. The grounds are very green, and there is a fun and friendly atmosphere. All of the campers are painted in vibrant colors with lawn ornaments and paintings. Because of limited internet, I can’t post any photos right now, but I will soon. The last hours of the day were spent eating sandwiches and reading.

---

Day 2 started with breakfast at the Breakfast bus, which is an old school bus that they use for serving breakfast. There are picnic tables on an astroturf rug outside.

We were scheduled for the 12:30 shuttle to the train station, so between breakfast and the train ride, we had a few hours to relax at the nearby hammocks and read, taking in the beautiful blue skies that were soon to give way to rain clouds.

Buying our tickets for the train was the first train-related challenge of the day. We were going to meet our friends, Matt and Kate, for a walking tour at 1:30, so we wanted to get on the next train to the city center, which was apparently a Metro, their light-rail system, and not a Train. It was a minor mix-up which was made worse by the station gates shouting at us in Dutch. Arriving at the station only got us mildly chastised by the agent at the station gates.

 

With only a few minutes to make it to the National Monument, we speed-walked and arrived just in time. The tour took us around the city center, through the red light district, around south, and ending up by the Ann Frank museum, walking near and across canals and tipping buildings.

We found food at the end of the tour at a little diner. I had a stamppot with sausage, where Jessie had pea soup with bitterballen, which are little fried balls of meat, broth, and flour.

 

The evening found us walking about the canals again, finding pastries near Jordaan, a strikingly beautiful neighborhood. I ended up finding the correct adapter to my laptop charger, which in turn lets me charge our e-readers and phones.

The second trouble for the day came with our return train ride. The doors shut on Jessie just after I got off the train, splitting the two of us up. We signaled to each other to meet back at our platform. As I was holding Jessie’s ID, and the money, I got a little nervous. It all ended well, as she made it back to the station after only 12 minutes.

We ended the evening by retreating to our little white camper trailer, drinking warm drinks, and planning for tomorrow.

Woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon (how nice to be in someone’s HOME!). Following a yummy breakfast, we headed into town to catch a train to one of Kaija’s favorite get-away-from-the-city spots. Trains were delayed due to a worker’s strike, so we had a bit of time to walk around Glasgow. We saw Kaija’s school as well as the equestrian statue of the Duke of Wellington.

A short train ride to Balloch (passing a ship graveyard along the way) brought us to Loch Lomand. Despite the constant drizzle, it was absolutely beautiful. The layers of grassy, rolling hills obscured by varying levels of misty haze was breathtaking.

At the top of a hill (with a chateau, of course) we sat under a lovely tree to keep us dry while we picnicked on bread, wine, cheese, and the most amazing strawberries I’ve had in my life.

There was even a lovely garden near the exit of the park that seemed to sparkle in the rain.

Thoroughly soaked, we stopped off at an inn to grab some hot chocolate and a hot toddy to warm up before catching the train home. Ray was over the moon excited to cook again and made us brown butter mac and cheese with pancetta and delicious cherry tomatoes (I swear, the produce here is the nuts!)

We rounded off our relaxing day with a movie. A thoroughly lovely day, thanks in no small part to the generosity and know-how of our dear friend.

-Jessie

 

 

Today was a bit of a double day. Our morning was our last day in Edinburgh, and therefor dedicated to getting to things we had not yet had time for.

Today started out, as any good day should, with a large breakfast. We ventured forth to the Arcade Haggis and Whisky House for a Scottish breakfast. This was an augmented version of England’s Full Breakfast. In addition to everything before, we also have hash browns, haggis, and black pudding. All very tasty if you can manage to not think about what’s in them. Black pudding is a sausage made out of pork fat, oatmeal, suet, and blood. Haggis is made out of sheep hearts, livers, lungs, oatmeal, and suet, and is traditionally cased in stomach. A lot of things that my stomach is not used to eating.

From there, we returned to the Grayfriar’s Kirkyard. With more time available, this place deserved a more dedicated look. Many of the grave markers were inscribed well before the United States existed. These warn down graves, adorned with skulls, demons, and babies carrying hour glasses, are much more meditative then they are grim.

One last major site to see was Arthur’s Seat, which is an extinct volcano at the east end of Edinburgh’s Royal mile. Instead of the hike to the tallest peak (the real Arthur’s Seat), we ventured to the peak nearest the city, and more off the beaten path. Along the way, we kept encountering snails by the side of the path. At the top, we were afforded an incredible view of the city, but only had to share it with a few other people, rather than the horde of hikers that crowded the main peak.

After taking in the view, we returned to the base and began our walk up the Royal Mile towards our hostel. Taking the back streets, we came across a BrewDog pub. BrewDog is a Scottish brewery that is world known for their beers with high alcohol content; beers named “Tactical Nuclear Penguin” at 32% (then the world record), “Sink The Bismarck” at 41% (reclaiming world record), and “The End Of History” at 55%. Typically yeasts will die off at a much lower percents, making these benchmarks no small feat. We did a sampling of five of their beers, all very good.

We returned to the hostel to pick up our luggage, walked to the train station, and got on the next train to Glasgow. Where Edinburgh has an old, weathered, and magical feeling to it, Glasgow is the bustling, youthful, and creative city. Many of my favorite musical groups came out of Glasgow, including Belle and Sebastian, and Franz Ferdinand.

Our friend Kaija met us at the train station and brought us to her home to drop off our baggage. Along the way, locals were doing a sub-crawl. This is a pub crawl, where instead of crawling, you take the subway to each stop, get out, and have a pint of beer. We got off the train with this raucous group as we quickly stopped at Kaija’s home, where she offered us a bed to sleep on, delicious chocolates on our pillows, and use of her laundry machine.

She invited us out to a show in the park in which some of her theater friends were performing. It was a production of Twelfth Night, with the promise that if it started to rain, we could go inside to see another group’s production of Coriolanus. The set and music were set in the 1950s, with colorful paints, record players, vintage radios, and great costuming. They had musical interludes where they would lip sync to a song, thereby sticking to the script while expanding on a character’s development. It was only interrupted once or twice by the shouts of a confused man with too much to drink who was probably confused as to why they had closed most of the park’s gates.

After the show, we grabbed a few drinks with a group of Kaija’s friends. This bar and the surrounding sidewalks were busy (If there was a theme with today, it’s probably that the Scots like to drink). We had finally found an Englishman to ask about the weird sidewalk behavior.

In the USA, as well as most places that I’ve travelled, there’s an implicit agreement that you walk on the right side of the sidewalk. In England, I had my share of bumping into people using that method. I tried switching to the left and I’d still had a few collisions. It seemed that even if I moved out of the way of somebody, they would somehow still run into me. It was like I was being hunted.

This was all new to the Englishman, who had never heard of this complaint. He acknowledged that there was no convention, but that he never bumps into people. So somehow, they must develop this sixth sense of walking smoothly that relies only on instinct.

This mystery being solved, we took an Uber back to Kaija’s flat, hung laundry, and began planning the next day.

-Ray

Slept so well in our beautiful hostile we were afraid we’d miss our 10AM tour. Shoveling down the inexpensive breakfast provided by the hostel, we sauntered to the meet up spot for our free Edinburgh highlights tour only to find we had, indeed, missed it. No matter. We moseyed back to our hostel to get ready more completely (grab umbrellas, etc.) and check in on the results of the Brexit vote. Alas.

Round two of our free tour, we were guided by a native Edinburgher through the streets, alleyways, kirkyards, wynds, and closes of the beautiful town of Edinburgh. I just found myself saying, over and over, “This CITY!” It is literally the stuff of fairytales.

Midway through the tour, we stopped off at a cafe for a break and figured we ought to try Irn Bru, an energy drink that is outlawed in the US. It tasted like bubble gum.

We figured we couldn’t possibly come all this way, have a hostel at the foot of the castle and not tour it, so we purchased tour tickets for the castle and “Dark Side of Edinburgh,” which meant we were in for a day of walking and touring. Here at the end of the day, my head is so packed full of new bits of information, I am struggling to find words to express my own thoughts (thankfully Ray is good at interpreting my hand gestures!)

At the recommendation of our guide, we grabbed lunch at “Baked Potato” and got a giant potato stuffed with guac and cheese before setting off for our next tour.
The castle was very interesting, especially given the fact that it had very little signage around to describe what you were seeing (for fear of disturbing the original building walls). Our guide was helpful in pointing out what each of the different buildings were, when they were built (the oldest circa 1100, the most recent in the late-1800s by Queen Victoria who wanted the castle to be “prettier” and less fortress-y). It’s neat at the end of the day to be able to gaze up at the castle and be able to point out the different buildings.

We popped back at our hostel to bundle up for the evening before making our way down the Royal Mile toward the beginning of our final tour. On the way we grabbed a cup of tea at the former workshop of cabinet-maker Brodie, father of Deacon Brodie, the locksmith upon whom Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was based.

Further along we got to witness a rally of people protesting the outcome of the Brexit vote outside St. Giles Cathedral and their subsequent march down the Royal Mile.

Amidst all this, it was a bit tricky to shift our attentions back to our guide and his stories of the darker side of Edinburgh. We heard fascinating tales of “Resurrectionists” (professional body-snatchers), of Arthur, the giant and main character of a folk tale for which “Arthur’s Seat” is named, the witch hunts initiated by King James; and descended “Jacob’s Ladder” (super steep rocky steps – I was kicking myself for going first for fear someone would trip and bowl us all over!), traversed over Calton Hill, and traipsed through a graveyard.

After the tour, Ray and I sauntered over to the Palace of Holyroodhouse (the Queen’s residence when she’s in town), walked along the base of Arthur’s Seat, and then back up the Royal Mile. Stopped off at OX184 for a dinner of burgers, whisky, and some local gin.

We took a walk to Princes street to see the castle lit up at night and then headed “home” to the sounds of college boys singing I Vow To Thee, My Country, a British patriotic song as we wound our way up and down the wynds toward our hostel (it boggles my mind that some folks just live in these beautiful, old buildings) just before the heavy rains set in.

 

Where did we leave off?

When traveling, it’s always a pleasure to get to talk to people outside of the regular tourist zones. Today marked what is definitely our most social day so far on this trip. For two introverts, sparking up a conversation with a local is a somewhat difficult barrier to break.

That takes us to this morning. We left our rented room in the morning and ventured forth to our train station. Our train to Edinburgh left from Kings Cross station, made world famous by the Harry Potter series. The station has a little Harry Potter shop, with a statue of a luggage trolly disappearing into a wall that you can pose for a picture next to.

Our train left at 11:30. We shared a table with two English people who were getting off at Darlington, then with a man who was getting off at Newcastle. At the table across the aisle from us was an older woman heading to Northumbria, and an older couple whose destination I forget.

The woman was charming, we think her name was Alma. She had talked with the couple at her table until they left, then turned to chat at us, which was more than welcome. She talked about how much trouble she causes wherever she goes: flooding at the Victoria Station, delays on the rail we were on, and some others.

Another older man got on and sat next to her, he was clearly very diligently on his laptop, taking notes on a sheet of paper. When talking with Alma, I brought up the Brexit vote. The Brexit vote (vote for Britain to Exit the EU), the man chimed in, complaining his pension was already down significantly. Another man on the car who claims to work in politics also chimed in, talking about how pensions were going down anyways. He didn’t claim a side, but it went to demonstrate how nuanced the situation was. Even still, every person we talked to either were opposed to it, or did not claim a side. I guess we’ll see how it went in the morning.

After Alma and the politician left at their stop, we talked to the man at Alma’s table. He had apparently retired a few days, but still had a few things to finish up. He acted as a de facto tour guide, showing us the various castles, cliffs and islands off the right side of the train.

Upon arriving in Edinburgh, we quickly found our hostel after walking up an unexpectedly long close (alley-like pedestrian walkway) with several flights of stairs. We’re staying at the Castle Rock Hostel, which is at the bottom of the rock the castle was built on. Very possibly the nicest hostel I’ve stayed at. They have various lounges, depending on what kind of time you want. At this moment, we’re in the “posh lounge,” where a fellow traveller is playing piano. There’s also a “movie lounge,” where they play movies at 6pm and 9pm, and a “good vibes lounge,” that forbids computers, shoes, and has several guitars laying out.

For dinner, we went to the nearby sandwich shop Oink where they make roast pork sandwiches with some kind of sauce and dressing. I had an applesauce / haggis combination that was incredible. Jessie skipped the haggis in favor of onions and sage, which was also formidable.

In the evening we walked around Grassmarket, then around the Princes Street Garden, and then up to Calton Hill for the best view of the city. From the top, you can see all of the royal mile: Arthur’s Seat, a giant mound of land adjacent to the queen’s residence in Edinburgh, all the way up to Edinburgh Castle. The rest of the city is visible from here too, the view reaches all the way out to the bay.

We returned just in time to group up with other people staying at the hostel for a bar crawl. Following the crowd, our first stop was the Frankenstein Pub, a Frankenstein themed bar that boasts “1818” in all of their branding. As the first edition Frankenstein had just came out in 1818, I doubt it has been there for that long. Regardless it was an interesting bar that even hosts movie nights. Along the way, we met two Danes, an Australian, an American, and an Englishman. They were all a pleasure to talk to, but the introverts in us got the better of us, and led us home.

All in all, a fairly successful day of being social.

-Ray