Glasgow

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The tourism part of my trip is coming to an end: tomorrow I take my first camping-hiking trip to the Isles of Arran and Islay (pronounced Ille-lah, I've learned). But today I'm enjoying my 3rd day in Glasgow.

I can't get over how beautiful this country is. I had a great time in Edinburgh. I was worried about the hostel when I booked it: a 14-bed dorm room and only £11 per night. Surely a terrible dive, I thought. But I'd forgotten an important rule in backpacking travel: just because it's the cheapest, doesn't mean it's not the coolest. As I've written in other entries, it was a very chilled out and friendly atmosphere. The place was chalk full of Canadians. I think half the staff was Canadian. Even for a loner like me, you couldn't be in your dorm room for more than 10 minutes without making a friend.

Tons of stuff to do in Edinburgh -- tours gallor, including an absolutely terrifying 'haunted city' underground tour where -- if you do the 9 p.m. tour (which I did with a girl from Taiwan/Boston) -- you are taken in the pitch black night into underground caverns and told terrifying ghost stories. There are several of these tours, including haunted graveyard tours. A bit corny -- more on the interactive theatre side -- but, I have to admit, totally fun. I screamed. Screamed like a girl.

Unfortunately it was freezing cold and raining the whole time I was in Edinburgh. But still, making the best of it, I joined in on a free walking tour of the city offered at the hostel. It was led by a cool young guy from Manchester who loved Edinburgh as much any native of the city. He himself was at least as interesting as the sites he showed us. He looked a cross between Kurt Cobain and Jesus and has a fascinating way of using the word 'safe.' 'You coming on this tour? Safe.' (thumbs up) -- apparently it's a Manchester thing. He animatedly took us through the imagined logical reasoning of Scotland's historical figures as if they, like himself, were students with a penchant for binge drinking.

I then went to Stirling. I hated Stirling. But, to be fair, it was for reasons that have little or nothing to do with the town itself.

I was experiencing an emotion that I'd forgotten is part of the backpacking experience. Sometimes, usually for entirely inexplicable reasons, you somehow manage to fall utterly in love with a city or place. The city speaks to you somehow. This is how I felt about Barcelona.... it's like meeting someone and totally clicking -- like finding a potential soul mate -- and then having to say goodbye after only two days.

And this is how I felt about Edinburgh. I didn't want to leave. I was on the bus frantically trying to figure out how to stay... 'I could just ring the bell and get off,' I thought. 'Screw Stirling and its stupid castle... forget hiking and the Highlands... I could afford to stay here all summer, I'm sure I can. Maybe I can move here.... find some job of some sort...'

But I stayed on the bus. And I arrived in Stirling in the piss pouring rain. The hostel -- this time filled with Australians -- faced out onto a main downtown street. And it was Friday and Saturday night that I was there: I had front row tickets to non-stop all night drunken brawl parties happening just below my window. I was now no longer in the mood for random conversation with 20-somethings in the 8 bed dorm room. I nicked (how's that for adopting a bit of Brit-speak?) a dorm-mate's copy of Russel Brand's 'My Booky-Wook' and hid from the rain, reading all afternoon and evening. I made it to chapter 20 before getting too paranoid that the book's owner would come in and find me reading her book. There was no need to worry though: she came in only at 2 a.m. and, fittingly perhaps (if you've read the book or know of the author), proceeded to puke over the side of her bed. Lovely.

Needless to say, I was entirely relieved to arrive in Glasgow where I'd splurged and booked a private room in a guest house. Ah, sweet, sweet privacy. And now I'm writing on the back of a napkin (and later typed up) in a Glasgow cafe and enjoying the city. It reminds me of Toronto somehow... lots of shopping. Like a dork, I'm going around getting all excited about anything remotely connected to one of my favourite bands, Belle and Sebastian, who are from here. I've now had my fill of castles and old churches and am happy just to chill out and window shop. And, most importantly, I believe I am now ready for the hiking to begin.

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