5.Alas! a lass in my bed - Glasgow

(FYI the Edinburgh post and Highlands post have been updated)

The bus ride from Inverness took almost 7 hours instead of 3.5 due to road construction and traffic delays - the bus was late arriving and getting there. Nevertheless, I promised myself I would recognise the luxury of an open schedule and not fret too much about non-critical things like delays and such, which should almost be expected when travelling out of the ordinary. India will probably be worse in this respect - get used to it. Still, I got to Glasgow late, registered at the hostel, set up my bunk with my sleep liner for the covers and my USB charger, and went out for a bite and to explore.

I walked several kilometres (I needed it after sitting idle for so long) and reached Byres Road and quaint Ashton Lane (recommended by James) with their many interesting shops and pubs.

Ashton Lane

I stopped in at Grosvenor Cafe and had 3 starters: Grosvenor Scotch egg & cracklin' salt; Feta-stuffed roast peppers; and Crayfish, avocado and marie rose (see my Food & Drink page). A Scotch egg is a hard-boiled egg deep-fried. Very tasty.

Near here are several 'legendary' used bookstores.

Voltaire and Rousseau, where the books are pilled 3 deep in general categories but not discernable order. A control freak's worst nightmare and a browser's nemesis. I asked if they had Dante's Divine Comedy. They did. We found it.

On the way home, I was curious about all the people heading into a lit-up church late on a weekday. It was Oran Mor, a church convertevd into a pub. As this was Commonwealth Games week in Glasgow, I ordered a Scotch and came upon a couple of Canadian wrestling refs (no, they don't ref Canadian matches) and also spoke with a theatre director / Columbia prof from NYC.

Oban Mor outside...

...Oban Mor inside

(cribbed images)

When I finally got back to the hostel at 12:30, I opened the door to the pitch-black dorm room for 6 (what is it with all these young travellers visiting new places and going to bed by 11 PM?!), and gently lay my day-pack on the top bunk, and started to climb up the ladder to get into bed. Suddenly somebody jumped up and mumbled something Scottish in a thin voice - that's how I figured it was a lass. I whispered I had the receipt for that particular bed and asked also if she hadn't seen my stuff, she said, 'yes, I put it on that other bunk'. Frantic whispering and half-explanations ensued. Turns out she had been in that bunk the previous night and came back an extra day. It was a pain, but after getting the night watchman involved, it all worked out. OK, that was my second misleadingly provocative heading. Will you stop reading now? ;)

The next day I visited the Kelvingrove Museum. It's an interesting hodgepodge of random historical anecdotes, presented in an order I could not decipher, but I did learn a lot about Glasgow's rise as a global centre for shipbuilding and ironworks expertise, before struggling in the early 20th century as manufacturing rose elsewhere, until its slow resurgence as a popular and creative city today. 

Outside the Kelvingrove was one of several "Play-me-I'm-yours-Glasgow" pianos I saw around town. This guy played for a long time and it sounded plesantly like Coldplay and/or something Finn might play. I liked it.

Here is one thing that caught my eye as I really like spirals - these snails were hunted to (near?) extinction because of their beautiful sheels.

While I was there, Glasgow (and all the news) was totally about Glasgow hosting the Commonwelath Games.  I sometimes watched in the evening with others in the hostel, but mostly I was not in a sports tracking mood. In the Kelvingrove Gardens, the lawn bowling competition was being held.  I tried to be excited looking through the protective fence - people PAY to watch lawn bowling?? Will wonders never cease.

On my way home from Kelvingrove, I came upon the Botanic Gardens and found them beautiful, well tended and informative.

Panorama inside one entrance to the main greenhouse. All the plants are identified and many have context and/or explanations.

This is the big hardwood tree I dozed under and which sheltered me from a slight rain shower. Thank you tree.

I was too tired by the end of the day, and after being out late the previous night at the Oban Mor, that I went back to the hostel and watched Commonwealth Games with a Brit and 2 Aussies. I missed checking out James' recommendation for music, King Tut's Wah Wah Hut, and Glasgow is renown for music; it is the home of Simple Minds too, a fav band of mine from the 80s (most everything before their US hit "Don't you forget about me". Oh well, when I'm back in Glasgow? :(

The next day was travel back to Edinburgh and the Fringe before flying to Italy.  As I had 2 hours to kill before my bus, I walked over to the Necropolis.  I didn't learn much - I didn't really have the time to do so - but it is visually spectacular, and made what I think are some good photos.

Partly I wanted to see Glasgow Cathedral (AKA "The High Kirk of Glasgow"), built in the late 12th century (can you believe it? This working church was built 300 years before a westerner came to North America), and just near The Necropolis. According to what I learnt at Kelvingrove, it was basically the first permanent building in Glasgow, and was built by to try and establish the Catholic Church in the region.

The back / top of the entranceway (the Necropolis climbs up to what appears to be the highest hill in Glasgow, so the view is impressive), with Glasgow Cathedral in the background.

This is a monument for an important person. And/or a very rich person. I'm sorry I don't know more.

John amongst the tombstones.

Thanks Scotland, for a very wonderful time.  And thank you especially for such great people being ancestors to create who I am today, and so it continues.

6. I kissed a dead girl last night

I know I'm jumping no.5. (Glasgow), but I had such a great time on my last night in Scotland, I had to write. Those who know me know I love the Fringes at Toronto and Ottawa. So before leaving to the Highlands, I had bought tickets to 3 shows for the day I returned to Edinburgh to fly to Milan at 6 AM. 

This is The Roal Mile (which leads up to Edinburgh Castle) around 4 PM. By 11 PM there were fireworks and three times as many people.  Only saw one arrest though. sorry I didn't catch the midnight revelry on camera.

To begin with, The Edinburgh Fringe (slogan: "Get Unbored") is the biggest arts festival in the world.  In 2013 there were 45,464 performances of 2,871 shows within 3 weeks. Edinburgh was terrific when I arrived last week. The festival, with its hundreds of thousands of eager spectators descending on the city, and Edinburgh responding in kind, turned into an incredible experience. The buzz and energy down along The Royal Mile, as well as at pubs and cafes along the many connecting cobble-stoned streets, was fantastic. Pictures don't do it justice.

It's nice because although Edinburgh is a fairly touristy city (compared to Glasgow or Inverness), I believe most of the festival audience are from the UK. I know this by a show of hands during one of the acts at the midnight 'Just the Tonic' comedy show, where Ricky Gervais and others got their start. That comedy show was mostly local comedians where 18+ material was delivered with lots of audience interaction in heavily accented Sco'ish (yes, after wandering among the crowds and visiting several vibrant pubs for a last scotch and/or pint, I went to a 4th show before busing to the airport at 2 AM.)

One I saw that was very powerful was 'The House of Barnarda Alba', which I can best summarize as a dark, feminist Jane Eyre presented by 7 women.  The acting was very powerful, and the dynamic tensions highlighted the jealousies and manipulations that are the undercurrent in many families, expectations versus desires.

'The House of Bernarda Alba': ‘It was perfect’ ★★★★★ (Edinburgh Guide). ’Frankly wonderful’ ★★★★ (Scotsman). Multi award nominated Fourth Monkey reimagine Lorca’s classic for the Fringe. Following her husband's death the domineering matriarch Bernarda Alba imposes an eight year mourning period on her five daughters. Tense, beautiful and full of passion Fourth Monkey bring their renowned visceral style to Lorca’s most famous work.

The show that most stood for me out was 'I'm not pale, I'm dead' by Aussie Lydia Nicholson. Her simple, one-woman show presents us with a young ghost of 2 years (still in classes) who appears to us inexplicably for the length of the show only, and wants to tell us how to prepare for death (don't wear an uncomfortable dress, or a shirt with itchy tags; bring change to cross the river Styx), relate what she can do (listen, be anywhere) and can't do (touch us), implore us what to do before we die (tellhow much we love our loved ones), and convey what she misses most. There is virtually no wall with the audience as she is talking to us the whole time (except during one session with a medium that turns out to be a 'wrong number') - "you can still see me, right??".  The play is funny and moving.  At one point she asks if we could help her out, if someone would offer her a last kiss.  I was chosen out of the audience (well, I'd never kissed a dead girl before) and I gently tried to kiss the ghost. It was strange, and made for enchanting theatre.

'I'm not pale, I'm dead': What's the riskiest thing you've ever done? After dying on a Saturday night in an itchy dress and mountains of regret, Lydia shares her words of warning with the living. From the practical to the deliciously naughty, her advice raises some uncomfortable questions about her death. Bittersweet ghostly storytelling from Australia's Lydia Nicholson. Sold out season at Sydney's 2013 Bondi Feast and winner of the 2013 Adelaide Fringe & Beyond Award. ‘Witty, charming, disarmingly frank’ (RipItUp.com.au). ‘Stunning performance with brilliant material’ (Heckler.com.au).

I'm writing this now in transit from Edinburgh > Brussels > Frantfurt > Milan > Lecco (by car). I'm hoping my checked bag makes it all the way! I'll try and post on Glasgow soon, just in case your concerned about chronology. Thanks so much Scotland, you've been beautiful, friendly, exciting and interesting. I couldn't ask for anything more to open my trip.

Epilogue: nope, bag got lost between Edinburgh and Lecco. :(

4. Inverness and The Highlands (updated)

I left Edinburgh and headed north to the Highlands.  My bus arrived in Inverness, but I had to rent a car to get to the West Coast and reach my little hostel off the main routes.

I asked for a very small, economical car, like a Fiat 500, but they gave me this Citroen "pocket rocket" as the rental company called it. It has a 1.6 litre diesel engine with lots of low-end torque.  Despite this, I averaged 4.4 l/ 100 km for the two days of zooming up and down the Highland hills. Puts my 2.0 liter Suzuki to shame at 8.6 l / 100 km for similar driving.

Hadrian and Finn think sometimes I drive on the wrong side of the road. So this was great - not only did I have drive on the wrong side of the road, I had to drive on the wrong side of the CAR! This was very scary for the first half hour (I'd driven a Morris Minor in the UK a long, long time ago), but after that I was pretty good. Except that I kept instinctively checking my mirrors and going for the stick-shift and window buttons in the wrong places.

Once I got out of Inverness and into the Highlands, it was glorious.

John in The Highlands (cue the bagpipes...)

In the distance among the clouds is the mountain where I'm heading to.

This was my little Hostel West of Dundonnell.

Although I don't have ancestors (that I know of) north of Inverness, I really wanted to go hiking in the Highlands.  I picked this hostel because it's right beside An Teallach (pronounced "Ad Chalockk"), one of the biggest but more accessible "Munros", so named after the man would first started cataloguing the Highland peaks over 3,000 feet.  This one starts right at sea level, and you climb over 1 km vertical to reach the summit.

Here I am about a third of the way up, with part of the Atlantic Ocean in the background and the cloud cover still above me.  That didn't last for long.

As I climbed, the different peaks of An Teallach came into view and became more and more impressive. Also, a damp, misty wind started to blow between up the different sides of the mountain. I saw quite a few farmers' sheep at the start, then further up deer and finally mountain goats.  I didn't get any good pictures because of the mist.  They would appear in my periphery, like ghosts.

This is looking down at ~60 degrees about 50 m vert. or 10 min. to climb to the summit. I came up an easier route ;) Near here I met a German climber zooming down past me.  We talked for a bit and he was upset that the trail was poorly marked, and "...in the Alps, we would never have markers missing for the full route".

At the peak of An Teallach (pronounced "An Chee-lakh"), over 1 kilometre vertical from the sea down below

It's sometimes hard to tell how steep it is in mountain shots. The top of this cairn is flat, so you can see how steep it starts to descend into the mist. On the way down, echoes of a mountain goat lamb bleating had me thinking I was moving away from it, but then I realised I was between the lamb and a ram.  The ram started moving towards me from about 100 m.  I quickly went away from both.  I don't give me much chance of outrunning a mountain goat on a mountain.

I couldn't see 150 metres for the last half of the climb because of the mist / clouds, but when I got back down 6 hours later, it was a beautiful sunset. I went for a nice drive up the coast.

Looking back East towards my B and B

Looking North across Little Loch Broom

A beach looking out onto The Minch straight towards the Hebredes and the Atlantic Ocean

I ran into a fellow James who was doing acoustic analysis up the road in advance of a potential hydro project - they measure the current ambient sounds and project the impact of having a hydro project in the vicinity. James was sorely missing cigarettes, so when I went up the coatst, I found a little general store and picked some up from him.  This small gesture led to us having dinner together and a fine conversation about Glasgow (where he lives), and Referendum (although not a Scot, he can vote because he lives in Scotland), and music.

This is the Dundonnell Hotel 2 km up the road from my hostel.

After my climb, I returned to the Dundonnell Hotel (the only establishment within an hour's drive) and had a cuppa Earl Grey - so civilized out in the wilderness!

That night, some of the locals got together at the hotel and played some traditional songs.

My hostel's keeper is playing guitar at left, and the owner of the Dundonnell Hotel is next to him singing.  Between them, they played about 10 instruments, which seems common with these improvised groups.  I found such musical get-togethers in both cities and countryside, which was wonderful.

After a terrific time in the Highlands, the next day I jumped in the car and took some backroads back towards Inverness. The back roads may be partially single lane, where you have to pull over tp intermittent passing lanes. On my way back to Inverness, I was able to stop at a town where research indicates one of my ancestors is from, and also drive along Loch Ness and see Urquhart Castle.

This is a church (a "Kirk") in Kilmorack converted into a contemporary art gallery.  It appeared to be the only building in a town one of my ancestors is possibly from. 

This is Urquhart Castle which governed much of the nearby forest around Loch Ness for the king, but struggled against repeated raids from the McDonald Clan of the North. Nope - no Nessie!

Inverness is a medium size town situated where the River Ness flows into the ocean. It was nice to walk through with beautiful neighbourhoods.  I only stayed a day, but was excited to find out where I was staying overnight.

Inverness

Would you believe the room I stayed in at my hostel was called The Hobbit?  The rest of the hostel was in a nice house with a big kitchen, a modern laundry, and a lovely treed neighbourhood.  There was a young German couple that was very displeased with the accommodations and asked to be moved, but I find this much cooler than The Hilton!  

Room for 5 hobbitses and nothing else! Germans have the highest standards / expectations it seems. This appears to be both a blessing (e.g. the quality of their cars, the reliability of their train system) and a curse (traveling through such "backward" countries, ex-husbands!).

This is from the bus ride from Inverness to my last stop in Scotland, Glasgow.  Notice that the middle "tree" is a cell tower in disguise.  This is a nice touch compared to our ugly towers.

3. Scotland - "Idinbrra"! (updated)

It's almost like icing on the cake coming to Scotland.  I've been orienting so much of my planning around India, and also Italy, starting in Edinburgh (the locals pronounce it "Idinbrra") has been a wonderful surprise. After only 2 days, Italy and India have a lot to live up to! I'm kinda sorry you have to read through so much stuff in this first travel post...

In Canada I had begun waking up earlier and earlier to preemptivey avoid jetlag - 4:30 by Wednesday morning. So when I arrived at 6:30 Thursday morning (1:30 AM Canadian time), I wasn't too exhausted.  The double-decker airport bus got me into the city centre and I walked 15 min. to my hostel which is housed in the dorms of the University of Edinburgh. Edinburgh is a beautiful old city. This is the street next to my hostel:

Note the half-assed cow on the wall.
Note the half-cowed ass on the wall.

After unpacking, I surprised myself by taking a (tourist) walking tour.  It turns out it had just the right amount of detail and history for me, not too academic or dry (Scots aren't dry, I'm learning).  Interesting facts / myths I learnt about:

• Half-hangit Maggie's 2nd death
• The legs of equestrian statues tell how their riders died
• How Walter Scott tricked the King of England into breaking the law

(If you're intrigued, get the full story at bottom) 

For dinner the night I arrived I went to have the classic Scottish dish of haggis, neeps (turnips) and tatties (potatoes) in whiskey sauce. It was actually delicious, the haggis being nutty and beefy, and the whiskey sauce creamy and sumptuous. I chatted with 6 20-something guys beside me about the upcoming referendum on Scottish independence, Scottish music, apprenticeship & job opportunities, and Rob Ford and Justin Bieber (yes, that's what were known for now - the Trudeau and peacekeeping years are long gone).

The 6 young guys I talked with are not the ones in the background.

Scottish Independence?

Speaking of the referendum Scottish independence, I've asked locals (gently) how they're voting and all will reply albeit cautiously.  So far, this is what I've heard:

• 5 Yes (for independence) 
• 3 No (for staying in the UNITED Kingdom)
• 2 don't know / abstain (which immediately started a fight among the guys)

The Yes folks will say they're voting Yes but most expect to lose.  The most interesting reason I heard for voting Yes was "Us Scots are always blaming the English for everything. Well I figure, why don't we giv' it a go, and be responsible for ourselves. And if we fail, well we gave it a shot!".  Eh, Quebec? Another funny anecdote, in talking with an American and a Spaniard about the referendum, I said 'it's a lot like Quebec in Canada and Catalonia in Spain, eh?' to which Maria the Spaniard said "Oh no, that's completely different." "Really? Why??" She said "Because the Catalans are nuts. I mean who would Barcalona FC play against? Would they create their own league? With which other teams?? No, it would never work. They're idiots." I guess we're blindest about the things closest to us. To me, they are ALL wishes of the heart. Nobody can make a credible case for pragmatism, that they'll be more prosperous being smaller. But that doesn't stop minority nations wanting sovereignty, and financial improvement is not paramount to many.

Here are more photos of Edinburgh:

On my way back to the hostel, I dropped into a busy pub on the Royal Mile to see a couple of guitarists belting out tunes by U2, Killers, Bryan Adams and more.

On the second day I went to the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art ONE which had a cool exhibit of 25 years of renown Scottish artists. I liked Douglas Gordon among others. In the afternoon, I walked through Princes Street Gardens and, inspired, drew this picture of the Edinburgh Castle (I went near the Castle, but it was wall-to-wall tourists and touring old buildings is not my favourite thing):

 

The 2nd night, I went to a tiny bar and saw a fantastic Dutch, folk-gypsy, pirate, fiddle band called "Scotch" that played great fiddle-based songs to a raucous crowd. This pub near the university was just pure, fun, cosmopolitan entertainment (check Scotch The Band out on Facebook). I liked the lead singer's trumpet-amplified fiddle:

 

Curious historical facts / myths from Edinburgh

• The legs of equestrian statues and how their riders died: Equestrian statues worldwide use a code (or at least a convention) to indicate how the rider died: 
• horses' opposing legs up = unnatural death (e.g. murder)
• all hooves on the ground = natural death (e.g. old age, disease)
• one leg raised = injured in battle, but survived
• both front legs raised = died gloriously in battle!

• "Half-hangit Maggie": around 1820, Maggie Dickson was sentenced to hang for hiding a pregnancy out of wedlock. She was hung and put in a casket, as were many others sent to the gallows that day, and brought to the commoner burial ground.
       Several hours later, undertakers were shocked to hear banging coming from one of the caskets. After some deliberation, she was brought back to the gallows and the noose put around her neck again. At the last moment a man amongst the throng of eager spectators shouted out "she can't be hung again! she's already served her sentence!"
       Again after some deliberation (this was an exceptional case after all!), the noose was removed and Maggie - her neck somewhat out of joint by this point - was saved.  The man went on to become a successful lawyer, and Maggie eventually married him. True story.
• Walter Scott tricking the King of England: During English rule of the late 18th century, the wearing of tartan & kilts, playing the bagpipes, and other symbols of Scottish culture were outlawed. When King George IV visited Edinburgh, Walter Scott asked him if he would like to wear a kilt. The king was a fan of Scott's Waverley and Rob Roy and took him up on his offer. Scott made sure the King climbed on a high horse and paraded him down Edinburgh's Royal Mile proudly wearing the symbol of the Scots to the crowd of royal watchers.  From then on, because of Scott's "trick", Scots have worn kilts to represent their culture.

On the 3rd morning I had to move on to Inverness and the Highlands, and will share soon, but before I left Edinburgh I picked up 3 Edinburgh Fringe tickets for the night I'm back before my flight to Italy.  I love the Toronto and Ottawa Fringes, and Edinburgh's is the biggest arts festival of any kind in the world. I'm looking forward to being surprised.  Whew - what a great start in Scotland!