Hogwarts and Whiskey.

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Another weekend, another trip, this time to the north where wild beasts control the waters and stone circles dot the landscape. It could only be one country, Scotland. Land to some distant relatives I will never meet but share a common name, McCollum my other middle name. Although I found out that it is actually spelled differently there, Macullum.

This was a completely unplanned vacation, buying my tickets on Ryan-air two weeks before going since they cost nothing, literally nothing. Originally my plan was to go alone but I soon found myself a willing partner in crime, Caroline. She and I had yet to travel anywhere together so it was an unexpected pleasure to have her with me. The actual trip was short, only Thursday to Saturday since my mom was going to be arriving in Rome on Sunday. Having gone there though I wish that I had more time to explore outside the city.

Arriving in Edinburgh early in the evening, excited about getting new stamps on our passport and happy the people spoke English though highly accented. The nice thing about this Ryan-air flight was that it wasn't flying into some small out of the way airport like most of their routes, it flew directly into Edinburgh much to my surprise. So that we were close to the city and wouldn't have to navigate our way through a new country by train, bus and taxi. Instead the two of us hopped on the shuttle bus, which took us within walking distance to our hostel in the old part of town on High Street. Immediately after dropping our bags off in our room we went back through the winding streets to a small Mexican restaurant we passed. After trekking though the cold wind it was a welcome atmosphere, filled with the smells of corona and cheddar cheese, neither of which I had had since leaving the states. Edinburgh at night is gorgeous. The small pathways that twist between the buildings have so much character that you want to walk down them just to see where they lead. Even with the threat of death around each corner, the alleys seem harmless pressed against the cold stone blocks.

The next day we went on a free walking tour of Edinburgh. Taking us around the city our tour guide was full of information about the history and took us to the major sites within the old part of the city. Including the grass market that is known as the place that witches were hung in the 17th century. Passing through the Grey Friers Church graveyard and the cafe that Harry Potter was written in, mixing history with pop culture all in three hours. My mind was going crazy with all the new knowledge I picked up along the way, perfect for Trivial Pursuit. For example, in the grass market there is a bar called the "Last Drop Stop" named not just for its wares but also because it is the same site of a bar that the accused criminals would stop in for their last pint of beer, bottle of whiskey and so forth. Now if I was about to be hung, I think a nice bottle of whiskey to drown the pain and act as an anesthetic would do the trick. Another thing about the bars in Edinburgh is that they are plentiful as in there is at least 2 on every block on a main street. The grass Market had around 5, all located right next to the other, making bar hopping very easy.

After a very informative tour we went in search of the famous whiskey that the Scots are known for and ended up having an impromptu taste test at a shop on the Royal Mile. Before leaving for Edinburgh I knew that I would have to send a bottle or two of whiskey home to the States, so walking into the store I already planned on buying something. The store was relatively small but after telling the man working (who was from Seattle also!) that both Caroline and myself were whiskey virgins, he promptly pulled out several bottles for us to sample in thimble-sized cups. This process was similar to the wine tasting I have done in Italy, what I like to call the "swirl, sniff, sip and spit" method, except I skip the spitting part (what's the point in that). He was able to describe to us how each one was made/processed and how the drink got its flavor. Something that I am still a little confused on, like smokey vs. sweet. Although I was able to determine a favorite in the smokey flavors because it kind of reminds me of tequila, which is my favorite spirit to drink. Caroline didn't enjoy the whiskey as much as she had thought she would and saved herself a few quid by not purchasing a bottle. I however bought two (only one of which made it to the States still intact) and had them shipped home so that I wouldn't have to worry about taking them on the airplane. Luckily he knew the how to package the bottles so that I wouldn't have to pay any tariff taxes and which whiskies I wouldn't be able to buy in the States.

We left the shop a little buzzed and with the sound of bag pipes in the air decided to buy a bit of the family tartan at the Edinburgh Weaving Co. In order to get to the actually plaid though, you have to walk through 3 floors of super tacky tourist gifts and then a History of Kilts museum, which then leads you to the actual wool tartan material. The museum was ridiculous, complete with "life-like" people wearing the traditional kilts from 1000 - Present day. Caroline's family tartan looked just like the Burberry plaid, which is ironic since she is always wearing Burberry whether its her scarf, boots, jacket, umbrella, you name it she probably has it. My current family plaid was much more subdued, which doesn't surprise me at all, a darker blue with small forest green cross-sections.

Americans have an interesting culture because although we identify with our country, we also try to identify with our past relatives countries. I myself can claim half a dozen different nationalities to my heritage, something that most Europeans can't really relate to because to them we are just Americans. Its like we are saying, "Yes I am an American but I am also just like you since my great-great grandfather is also ____". Most of my friends in the States do this without realizing it that it has become the norm. So if someone were to ask where I was from I would say that I was from the States but my family comes from Norway, Scotland, Ireland and France. Its a rather strange tradition we Americans have of telling people our genetic make-up, in order to make ourselves sound more worldly and mask our internal dislike of how people perceive us.

That night we decided to go all out and party like the locals. Starting at a more “quiet” bar with live music and Magner's cider, the two of us watched the older Mom crowd dance and sing to the popular songs, none of which I knew. It was the first time I had ever tried cider, being such a beer girl; anything else seemed a little wimpy. Once the alcohol hit the blood stream we went back to the grass market to the “Last Drop stop” which our guide told us was a popular place to go to at night with the locals. By the time we got there it was completely packed, with so many people it took quite a while to get a bartenders attention. Neither one of us had any liquid courage at that point so we ended up being very exclusive with ourselves for some time before branching out into the company of a few Irish girls next to us. Before I knew it Caroline was making friends with five 20-something men at a stag party, each with a large mustache or beard. Once I became my very enthusiastic self, our large party left the “Last Drop Stop” to go to another live music pub called “Drop Kick Murphy’s”, coincidentally the name of a favorite band of mine.

There we meet a few Germans traveling around the UK by car and danced until the wee hours of the morning, making a few very expensive phone calls home in between.

With all the new friends and people we met, Scotland turned out to be the place I had envisioned. Friendly people with a Scottish burr that makes conversations more lively and exciting because they seem wilder than their English neighbors, drawing you in with charm that can be found in Scotland. Their shopping wasn't too bad also, the prices were still expensive compared to the States because of the exchange rate and I was even able to buy a few toiletries that I couldn't find in Italy. By the time we left our bags were stuffed full of things we had acquired. Ryan-air's one bag policy makes complete sense when you aren't flying with them because of the limited cabin space. However getting everything into my backpack was the hardest puzzle I ever had to solve because by the time I finished packing there was absolutely no room within it for any new items once zipped closed. It was upsetting to leave but I was excited to see my mom the next day in Rome.

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Photos

Photo 1
First Cider experience

Photo 3
Welcome to Scotland, here's a drunk man passed out wearing a kilt.

Photo 6
first Starbucks since Munich.

Hogwarts
The school that inspired Hogwarts

Photo 8
random store, but best name ever

Writing time
The place the J.K. Rowling wrote the famous Harry Potter.

Missing Something
Someone must have misplaced their teeth.

Photo 17
My new boyfriend

Freezing on top of the world
Edinburgh Castle