How I've Changed

In the nearly three months since my return from Scotland, I've found readjusting to be harder than adjusting in the first place. I miss everything, achingly so. That's not to say I miss the days of homesickness, or the days I would do nothing but watch Netflix, or the days of loneliness or alienation. But in my hindsight view of my exchange, none of the mediocre or sad times even exist anymore. I have erased them, because I don't need them. The things I miss are having a tight knit group to do everything with. I miss having a family that experienced the same things for the first time, all together. I miss adventure, and not caring about a crappy day because it all adds to the story in the end.

I keep in touch with my friends by Facebook, Snapchat and WhatsApp. It's crossed my mind that maybe this is why I struggle moving back to my old world - I keep trying to stay in Glasgow, from over 5000 km away. I would never give up being able to send a silly Snap to the best friends I may never see again.

Recently I went to the pre-departure workshop for next years' exchange students. Students who are anxious, wide-eyed and eager to start their own adventure. I remembered my workshop being loud and overwhelming and giving me a great deal of stress over whether I was making the right decision to uproot myself. Besides advice on where to buy cheap shampoo, whether the housing packages from GCU are worth it or not, and how to get from the airport to the school, there are a list of things I learned from my exchange that I though was important to relay. Most of these lessons are brand-new, and I still struggle to remember them now that I'm not living an adventure anymore. I learned a lot about myself, and about what I'm capable of that I wouldn't have learned at home.

I'm not afraid to be alone. As a people person, I've always needed other people around me. I've been dependent on other people around me to give me courage and comfort. In the first weeks of my living in Glasgow, I would have passed up an opportunity just because I didn't have anyone to go with (because friends don't materialize on their own). I missed days of adventure because I didn't think I could have an adventure by myself. In the final two weeks of my stay, I had yet to see London. I would be devastated if I returned from the UK without ever seeing the big city. Two days from the first time the thought crossed my mind, I had booked a flight and arranged to stay with family friends outside London. I travelled solo by bus, plane, and train to stay with a family I had never met for three nights. I learned the city bus, train, and tube alone simply by doing it. I went to exhibits and museums and a theatre show completely autonomously, and I enjoyed all of it. Before my semester abroad, I never would have thought myself capable of travelling alone.

I can find pleasure in a bad situation. I learned this when my flatmate Holly and I planned our day trip to Loch Lomond. The morning of it was drizzling, cloudy and cold. We got as far as the Glasgow train station (to take us to Balloch) when I confessed that I wasn't sure I wanted to go today, not in this weather. Holly taught me the lesson to let others push your boundaries. She insisted, and I conceded, and we had a marvelous adventure on the banks and hills in the national park. Not only did we push on through the wet fog, we were laughing about it together, at the time and continue to do so as we enjoy the memory.

The authority to handle a problem. GCU is a mess of administrational hiccups. I first encountered the Scottish attitude of "it'll work itself out" weeks before I left Canada, when I was waiting frantically for confirmation of residence placement. Once I had settled residency and arrived, I was faced with registration problems. After two weeks of battling to clear up my registration (alone in a foreign country), I was misplaced and overlooked in my classes. The fire alarm in my residence went haywire, whining for three consecutive days and nights. I chased down administrators and professors, sat in meetings and wrote a million emails. I teamed up with Holly to get the attention of someone, anyone who would listen to our fire alarm torture without laughing and walking away. I learned to be an independent problem-solver because I had to, or the whole thing was a bust.

The confidence to step out of my comfort zone. Being far away from home with no one tying you to presuppositions of who you are lets you explore who you could be. It is a fearful thing, to be cast into solitude amidst a massive city bustling with life. The best way I found to make use of the daunting situation was to throw myself into it. I used to be a relatively conservative partier - drinks on the weekends, usually leaving the bar before the taxi wars broke out. I learned to negotiate the self I thought I was with the self I was now allowed to be. I went to dinner with people I didn't know, and we became best friends. I invited myself to a flat party on Facebook, and the people in that flat became my family. I tagged along to a sidestreet club and discovered a nightlife way better than the promotional student clubs whose flyers littered our residence. I learned that I liked being someone I didn't think I was. I'm currently in the process of introducing that person to this life.

Don't let small excuses change your big ideas. If you want to hike in Scotland, hike in the rain or don't hike at all. It would be folly to visit Scotland with no intention to spend a day roaming the beauty. It would be  disappointing to let the person you believe yourself to be, suppress the person who can emerge in a time of change. It would be tragic to let anxiety stop you from going after a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and irresponsible to let a botched communication destroy the validity of your exchange experience. When it comes down to it, all excuses are too small against something magnificent that you really want.

If any student at Brock has the means and the opportunity to step away from Canada, I don't think there is a good enough reason not to go abroad. Even if you think it's not for you or you won't love it - you will.

Wallace Monument and Stirling Castle

After Halloween night out, I woke up bright and early to catch the bus to Glasgow International for a very special occasion - my mom's visit! She flew IcelandAir like I did, but she got to spend the night in Reykjavik and see Iceland's capital city. She arrived in Glasgow at about 10 am, and we took the bus together back to the city center. Of course the first thing on our agenda was to get her a proper fish supper (apparently the more common way of ordering fish and chips) so after we dropped her luggage in my dorm room we went to the Atholl Arms on Renfield street, just around the corner from the bus station and university.
Checking in was a bit weird, when there was nobody at the reception of the apartments and the doors were locked, the code they'd given Mom not working. Somehow the security guard showed up and let us in, and we settled into the adorable furnished one-bedroom apartment on Bath Street, not two minutes walk from GCU.

Scottish sunshine in Stirling

Wallace's sword

We spent the first day settling into the apartment, and making plans for the ten days Mom was in Scotland. On the Sunday we took the train to Stirling, and walked to the William Wallace monument. Stirling was really cool, and a definite spot to re-visit before I head home to see the Old Town. The Wallace monument stands 220' high overlooking the site of the battle of Stirling bridge. The stairs to the top are narrow and freezing, the day we went was wildly windy and the monument is modelled after Victorian gothic style, with narrow open windows up the tower stairwells. Each level explores sections of Scottish history, but my favourite was the first one that actually told the story of Wallace himself, and houses the actual 5'4" sword in
a glass case. The very top of the monument offers the most amazing views of the city, the mountains and the river - and on a clear day like the one we had, I could see to Edinburgh!

We managed to get a taxi from the monument to Stirling Castle for about five quid, although the taxi driver was pretty shady about taking us for a joy ride around the parking lot. We got there with only just over an hour before the castle closed, and once the sun goes down in Scotland it gets pretty frigid. We spent most of the visit wandering indoors the castle. They have costumed employees in some of the rooms, and one of the women dressed as a lady-in-waiting gave us a full informative brief on the life of the King and Queen, and how the castle came to be. My membership with Historic Scotland got us free entry to the castle and free audioguides. By the time the castle was closing we'd seen as much as we could have and it was dark and freezing. We went down to a pub at the castle gates cleverly called Portcullis, where we had some disappointing wine followed by a phenomenal meal. Train back to Glasgow, first trip a great success.

Glencoe & St Andrews

Finally finally, I have a moment (albeit a moment of procrastination) to update. It's been almost two weeks I think, since I went on these two Student Tours Trips so it's about time I wrote about them.

Gary runs excellent coach bus trips far into Scotland, to places difficult (and expensive) to get to on your own. On our Loch Ness trip we drove through the magnificient Glencoe area and Gary mentioned that he did another day trip to the mountains here. For only £20 we met the bus at the university around 8am and boarded for a long drive into the highlands. Glencoe is the historical site of a famous massacre during the Jacobite uprising. Gary is an unparalleled tour guide, since his knowledge is so extensive but he genuinely loves the places he'll show you. He knows much more than he shares, and it's worth asking him about these historical places. The mountains we visited are called the "Three Sisters" and tower over a deep stream that we had to take on a little wooden bridge to cross. Standing under these highland mountains gives you a moment of perspective, and honestly, they feel mighty and alive.

Glencoe mountains: Aonach Eagach

Gaelic mountain names - try to pronounce them, I guarantee you can't.

After a while rambling about Glencoe, we got on the bus once again and drove a little ways through Fort William into Glenfinnan, and pulled into the visitor's center. In front of us was an awesome view down a long loch, on the beach of which a great big monument to the Jacobite is erected (for £3 entry). Behind the lot however, was the Glenfinnan viaduct, a massive bridge by which the Jacobite steam train travels in the summer. It is also to bridge that the Hogwarts Express travels, and I was so excited to be this close to the real deal finally. We could walk right up to the viaduct and in fact under it, and I don't consider myself much of an architecture nerd but it really was impressive and beautiful, set between two orange highland mountains.

After Glenfinnan we stopped back in Fort William for a bite to eat, or rather a pint. Thinking we were late, Holly and I raced through miserable rain back to the bus afterwards only to find that not even Gary had got on board yet. Oops...


Next day we joined up with Gary again to see the Kingdom of Fife and St Andrews. The bus ride was again long, but we were warned that St Andrews was in a perpetual raincloud and so we were delighted when we arrived to blue sky and sunshine! St Andrews is an adorably typical British town, with castle ruins and cobblestone alleyways and that sort of thing surrounding us all over.We were let off the bus at the beach, where we did some quality rock-climbing before heading into town. The first stop for us was the St Andrews castle, which we got into for free thanks to Gary (entry on Student Tours to these sites is always free with the group)! It was possibly my favourite castle so far, though it's ruined and crumbled, the plaques illustrate what it would have looked like, and much of its foundations are intact. The absolute coolest part of this castle in the mine and countermine. Turns out the castle was under seige and was being tunnelled into, and the Scots dug a tunnel of their own to intercept the invaders. These tunnels are still there and have been stabilised so tourists like us could go inside! Besides the ladder and railing, it was so authentic, the walls were wet and slimy and the countermine was only about 4' around - very uncomfortable!

St Andrews Cathedral ruins and cemetery

After the castle we broke off from the group and explored the town ourselves. We walked to the ruins of the St Andrews cathedral, which has become a breathtaking cemetery since its destruction in the Reformation. We wandered through the village for some ice cream and a pint, until we made it back to the bus at the beach and took off for another castle, and another beach.







The ruins are really incredibly preserved, which I've found that I prefer to an upkept castle like the one in Edinburgh. While these are far more historically informative, I love the bareness of the ruins and find that the Historical Scotland group provides a perfect amount of information on plaques without interfering with the ruin itself. St Andrews was absolutely stocked with ruins, from the castle to the cathedral to the ancient university, parts of which still stand. In St Andrews I finally found a perfect Edinburgh lager called Three Hops that made the long ride home into a pleasant nap for me.

Conich Hill, Loch Lomond

Okay I know I am way behind on updates - I've just been on several great trips in a row and need to a) upload the photos and then b) blog them but I get caught up in things like homework and classes... and other day trips. and beer pong parties. and Netflix.
Regardless...

The first leg of the Conich Hill climb.

Holly and I finally made an independent day trip to hike up Conich Hill! We had a little group of interested friends, but lives got in each others way and so the two of us went anyway. It was a miserable, grey and foggy day (not unusual) and I almost wanted to forget about the trip and raincheck it. Thank goodness Holly is more fearless than I am, and got me to hop on the train anyway. We finally used our student rail passes to get discounted tickets to Balloch from Glasgow. It was about 40 mins on the train to Balloch, which let us off in another wet and grey area of Scotland on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. We set off in the most logical direction we could surmise and found an information center, where we got directions to the Balloch bus stance to catch our city bus to Balmaha. The total round trip from Glasgow to Balmaha only cost us about £8, and climbing the hill is free! We got dropped off the bus after about 20 mins at the base of Conich Hill, where the visitors center for the Loch Lomond & the Trossacs national park is built. We spoke to a lovely young gentleman who directed us to the path that would take us to the hill. We started up the path with our rain hoods pulled tight and our brand new waterproof hiking boots (Tip for future GCU exchange students: Mountain Warehouse on Sauchiehall street offers discount hiking/camping gear, often on sale and they also give a 10% extra discount with your student card!). The beginning of the hike is through a beautiful soft and green forested area, really showcasing some of the gorgeous flora that grows in Scotland. We got to a wooden fence with a hilarious sign warning us that sheep graze Conich Hill freely throughout the year and to please respect them. We shuffled through the fence (it was a bit complicated - ingeniously engineered so that people could fit themselves through it without the danger of sheep escaping) and sort of emerged into this vast range of mossy hills that disappeared into the thick mist.

The landscape was breathtaking. I love the soft and mossy green of the mountains in Scotland, and Conich Hill offered up the changing seasons showing us red and yellow mosses the the craggy rock as well.
The hiking path was recently groomed and was maintained beautifully. There were some wooden steps, followed by mossy hill (boasting a collection of sheep), followed by some well-kept stone steps up to a dirt path along the side of the hill's summits.

     

On the guide the Conich Hill climb was said to take two to three hours, so we were pretty prepared for that kind of effort. We had packed lunch, layered and layered and then rain-proof layered, and happily hiked further up into the fog and rain. By the time we could see the very peak of the climb, my hair was literally dripping wet, my face was soaked and my eyelashes were throwing off water droplets every time I blinked. Hiking kept us warm, but definitely not dry! I caved before the top and ate my sandwich, only to discover that the peak was a short climb from where we stopped to take a breather. We scrabbled up the wet grass and gravel and came to the very top of Conich Hill! There were plaques dedicated to deceased lovers of the hill, and Holly got to enjoy her lunch at the peak, where we overlooked the rolling hills and the shore of Loch Lomond. There was another summit not far from were we were standing, so we wandered down the hill a little and got to a bit that was closer to the shore. Amazingly, as we were taking photos of the landscape through the thick cloud, it began to clear! I won't go so far as to say the sun came out, but the clouds did lift just then. We could make out the islands just off the shore in the lake, and could finally see the little farmyard that a cattle-sounding ruckus had been coming from for almost the whole hour we had been hiking.

It was our descent that was probably the best story of the day. Adventurous young things like myself and Holly get bored with the beaten path, apparently. Over the edge of this hilltop was a water runoff, really just gravel and moss and heather. We brilliantly decided to make this our descent path rather than go back the way we had come from. Thank GOD we had our new hiking boots on. The only parts with any grip were the patches of bush that grew between the rocks. We had to keep practically crouched so that our weight was low enough to be stable climbing down. We both got stuck a couple of times as we tried to make like mountain goats and navigate down the cliffside to the grassy hill below! 

Holly scaling the cliffside on our way down from the top.

There was a French family on the path below us who must have thought "those idiots are going to die today." We had way too much fun with this part! After we finally made it to the grass at the bottom of the runoff, we decided to explore this newest hilltop, and got to the other side of it when we saw a little goat path to the main walkway! Brilliantly, we made for it not realizing that to get there we'd have to once again stumble down a gravel cliff. Again, we had way too much fun doing it and made it to safety without so much as a twisted ankle.

After we backtracked to the bottom of Conich Hill, we were sopping wet and cold from sitting motionless on the bus back to Balloch. We had about ten minutes before our train back to Glasgow arrived, so we ducked into an adorable inn by the train station for a pint to warm up. There was a fantastic real-wood fireplace and a great big cow hide rug that we sat right in front of. We made our train just barely and headed back to our Glaswegian lives. I was absolutely soaked through, and even after a hot shower and dry clothes I didn't feel properly warm again until the next day!

I'm about three adventures behind on posts, so I hope to bang them out as soon as I can. In the meantime remember to browse my photo album! The link's right at the top of the sidebar.

Belated Scotsgiving!

Forgive me, I have been trying to figure out exactly how to do my homework lately. For instance, I have a 2,000 word paper for my E-Marketing class at the syllabus only explains that I must use course concepts... so it's been difficult to discern exactly where to begin. I've also been struggling to do my assigned lecture readings, since they come up on the lecture slides but there is no reading schedule to be found anywhere in my syllabus for the module.

Regardless, we went ahead and celebrated Thanksgiving!
The Swedes and the Finns were game, even though they'd never had a Thanksgiving before. From that angle, it's a little silly to try and explain what the point of the holiday is. At the end of the day I'm satisfied with: it's the day you eat as much as you can with a big group of people that you like hanging out with!

On a student's budget it proved more than challenging to have a Thanksgiving spread. Instead, we brought our own meals and shared anything left over. Kind of a hodge-podge of dishes, and not some that I've seen at many of my family Thanksgivings, but the sight of a full table and happy faces was really what I was after anyway. The non-Canadians were good sports about it, and we felt like we had been properly celebrated.

PS. These are Nina's disgusting candies from Finland. In Finland they love to eat things that taste horrible. They taste like salt and black licorice, and they love them so much that Esko dissolved some into his vodka so that it tasted just like them!

Check-up

I never appreciated how wonderful Brock is until I had the chance to step away from home. At the opportunity to fly across the ocean and settle into a new city, school, and world for four full months, I barely hesitated to jump through the necessary hoops. It's been about six or seven weeks since my arrival in Glasgow, and adjusting has been slower going than I had imagined.

I thought of writing this post this morning, when a professor of mine asked me how I'm finding Scotland, etc, and he asked me what the biggest difference between here and home is to me. I didn't have a proper answer for him, and so I think I came off a bit unobservant or non-participatory in some way, as if I haven't noticed any difference at all. But truthfully, I had to take a moment to think of a real answer to the question.
There are many differences, and many similarities. But to answer my prof's question, I think optimism is the biggest cultural difference. Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about - but the Scots seems  a perpetually positive people. Aside from shop clerks and baristas, who are consistently upbeat, the people on the street and in the university offices have the same positive attitude. Nothing seems to be worth stressing over - to some frustration on my end, when half the printers on campus are out of order and nobody seems bothered about rushing to fix them.
I was delightfully surprised when, by another spectacular failure on GCU's part I was overlooked when placing  students into workshop groups and am now four weeks behind on coursework. I went to meet with my program advisor, who went over the module expectations with me and said to just show up to the next class. Now, I am a chronic worrier and automatically spin into panic mode when everything isn't sunshine and rainbows, so I asked him outright: is this going to be a problem that I should be worried about?
He laughed. No, he chuckled with glee or something wonderful like that, and said "Nah man, it's cool!"

So I suppose to answer the question, the biggest difference to me has been attitude. People seem happier when everything isn't dependent on perfection all the time and place faith that the problems will get resolved in their own time. My frustration with GCU's administration, while justified by my organized, anti-chaos Canadian culture is actually standard procedure when you take the approach that everything will work itself out. I'll try to get used to it. But it is difficult when half the facilities on campus are broken and not fixed for weeks on end, or when the fire alarm in my building is broken and it's a long weekend, so the squealing goes on for three days before someone is reminded to fix it.

I have been getting annoyed with a lot of the workings of GCU, and most of the time try to chalk it up to the cultural difference instead of getting upset. I will pose a question and for whatever reason, it rarely gets understood correctly and the respondent will spend an unnecessary length of time explaining something to me that is irrelevant. For example, when I asked my seminar leader about how exactly to begin my essay, he proceeded to explain the importance of title pages, paragraphs, citations, etc. as if I have never written a university paper ever before. When I emailed another lecturer about the same topic, asking the same question, he rudely responded that it was inappropriate to ask for help over email and to discuss my problem in seminar. Maybe it's just me that found his response impolite and brash, but I am still quite put out about it. No matter how many times I've sought out help on my own, nobody seems to be able to give me the guidance I'm looking for. It makes my anxiety about succeeding in classes worsen, and a lot of the time I feel like I'm just on my own to figure it out. The program leaders are adamant about being available for anyone with questions, but at the moment their help seems useless to me.

Another note about my exchange: the classes offered at GCU are unlike any classes I've ever seen at Brock. I'm taking Creative Advertising in which we are given a brief each week and must pitch ideas to our professor, which is so stimulating and creative in a way unlike anything I've done at Brock. I'm also taking Radio Production in which we write and produce a full-length radio episode.These opportunities aren't available for credit at Brock in my experience. The opportunity to explore and exercise these tasks and skills is worth the cultural frustrations... so far!

Ceilidh at GCU

There was an event held tonight for international students at GCU, so Taylor, Shayna, Holly, and our flatmates Gabi, Antje, Raul and Andres went to investigate the "free dinner" we had heard about. The event only cost us £3 each, and upon our arrival we were greeted by an open bar serving wine and juice. The evening began with us finding some seats, having a drink, and then being taught a "traditional" Scottish dance. After the instructions for the dance were given to whoever wanted to try learning, an accordion and drum kit would play recognizable songs like "Loch Lomond," "My Bonnie," and some of the Braveheart theme. That pretty much sums up the evening, a great price and an opportunity to get to know other international students - some even chose to dress in their country's traditional wear: kimonos, saris, etc... it was very cool. For such little money we were given a place to meet each other and get to know one another, as well as something to learn all together (the ceilidh dances are apparently super participatory, with tons of jumping and skipping and things). But I have to say the best deal was definitely the free wine, dinner, and desserts. For dinner we were served burgers with a side of haggis, neeps & tatties. The open bar also offered plates of chocolate coconut bars and some maple fudge - after my own heart.

Classes have been on for only two weeks now and I haven't put more than two hours into one. The process of organizing a timetable seems almost impossible, and the communication at GCU seems to be one of their top struggles. So I've gotten frustrated with the administration several times now, which is making me a little more tense about our trip to Paris tomorrow. Also, trying to tailor my plans to accommodate the exchange rate that brought all my savings from both summer jobs to less than the value of my one semester at Brock - even though Glasgow is a pretty cheap place to live, everywhere in the UK is more expensive than Canada.


So, this Paris trip is going to have to be creatively tailored to a low-budget tour. We luckily planned our trip on the first weekend of the month, the Sunday of which is apparently a free-entry day to many of the most popular sites in Paris. Some Googling will find us other attractions in the city that won't cost us a thing, and we've got a kitchenette in our hostel (so I'm told - we'll see).

Loch Ness

Saturday was what I came to Scotland for! We got on a Student Tours Scotland coach bus at 8 am, with a backpack full of fruit and sandwiches, and began the three and a half hour journey into the highlands. It was actually really fun - Gary, the Student Tours leader is a gifted storyteller... or something. He kept us well entertained, and sitting at the very back of the bus with Holly, Rebecca, Isabella, Jared, Shayna and Taylor sort of felt like a throwback field trip with your friends. We drove right past Loch Lomond, which always puts the song in my head for the rest of the day. It was a beautiful foggy morning, and as we drove further toward to highlands and through Glencoe, Gary told us the truth about the Scottish mountains.
As it turns out, Scotland was once inhabited by only giants and witches (or "wetches" in Glaswegian...), and the witches were annoyed by the giants always crushing them to death. So the witches turn all the giants into mountains, and lost all their powers becoming humans. Which kind of explains why the Scots are such weirdos - they're actually Squibs. Anyway - it was worth it, because I have never seen anything like the Scottish mountains. I've never seen mountains bigger than, say, Mt Tremblant in Quebec, so seeing these massive formations was truly breathtaking. They're tremendous rock formations, all of them with some kind of waterfall or creek running down them. The rocks are covered in long, shaggy, unbelievably green grass that actually makes the whole mountain look soft and beautifully rolling. So much of the country we drove through was completely barren of any kind of settlement. It was truly wild and gorgeous.

Some shots from my seat on the bus

Ruins of Urquhart

Our first destination was the ruins of Urquhart castle in Inverness. The castle was built right against the banks of Loch Ness. It was apparently one of the best placed castles, with perfect position to defend from both land and water. I can't believe how much of the castle still stands after these hundreds of years. Both of the Historic Scotland sites I've visited so far seem to have a real investment in recreating and restoring the original conditions. Where the castle was ruined, a sketch of what could have been was always accompanying the area. For example: the stables and the pigeon house in Urquhart were just the rubble of the walls, but we could clearly make out a horse stall, and four remaining pigeon holes. The castle was also an incredible place to see Loch Ness. The lake is huge and long, and we couldn't have gone on a nicer day to see it.

Loch Ness and the highland mountains.

From the castle, we went to a sweet B&B/farm also right on the edge of Loch Ness. It was run by a lovely English woman who raised horses and highland cows, mostly to keep the grass nice an trim. The B&B was at an old pier that poked out on old stone over the lake. It was a warm day, so standing on the pier was a perfectly comfortable viewing point of Loch Ness stretching out around the property.







It was so cool to be at the farm. We had full run of the place, so Holly and I went hunting for the hilarious highland cows. I have a soft spot for cows - actually I love them. I love big animals of all kinds, and cows are so hilarious I can't help but love hanging out with them. Even more hilarious than the dairy cows of Ontario I'm used to are the highland cattle of Scotland. They are huge and lumbering as cows are, but at the same time they are woolly and super hairy - the rock stars of the cow world.

The elusive highland cow.

We found this one trying to disguise itself behind a bush, but we weren't taking no for an answer and decided to go make some bovine friends. It was a bit of an adventure through the mud and cow pies, across the stream (Holly stone-stepped, I took off my socks and shoes and walked right through it). We were a bit nervous about the horns on them, but like I said, cows are awesome. They just sort of lay there while we goofed around. 

Making new friends.

We wandered from the farm into the little town of Fort Augustus with about an hour to kill. We found a pub beside the lift locks called the Lock Inn, so we decided to take another Scottish leap: haggis. There were seven of us and we had ordered one plate to share. I'm not sure how the others felt, but I'm virtually fearless about food so I couldn't wait to dig into it. It came in two round slices garnished by berries in a whiskey mustard sauce that was perfect. Personally, I loved it and probably could have eaten the whole plate myself! It definitely will not be my last time having some while I'm here. Delicious!!!

*** Some blog updates:  Scroll down to the very bottom of this blog and see a slideshow of my entire photo album. On the sidebar you can visit my online photo album and browse all of my pictures from the trip.

Getting My Footing

Almost three weeks in Scotland! I'm finally feeling like I'm getting my feet under me. I've got a pretty good group of friends, all of us international students experiencing Glasgow together. Last night we all got together for dinner to celebrate Taylor's birthday away from home. I've figured out where to buy the cheapest groceries, best times to have my meals, and have even got two trips planned. Our flat is almost full, we've still got one empty room and not one single Scottish roommate. We are a completely international flat: Canada, USA, Spain, Brazil, and Colombia! As you can imagine there's a lot of Spanish flying around as well as English.

Our building's fire detection system went haywire three days ago and provided us with a relentless high-pitched peep that went on and on for 48 hours (much to the amusement of the Caley Court security office apparently), until Holly and I went to the Accomodations Office and played them a recording of the sound! Right away the amazing and beautiful Robert Stevenson saved us by calling someone to come and at least shut the system off until it can get fixed. So, no more incessant whine, but we are without a fire alarm system in the whole building. I shut my heater off, because it smells like the wrong end of a very very old hair dryer.

Laundry is quite an ordeal in Caley Court. It's £1.60 per forty-minute wash load, and 20p for every 12 minutes in the dryer. The dryer I unfortunately chose today wasn't emitting any heat, so after I waited my 36 minutes and found my clothes cold and damp, it was another 24 in a different machine before I could go home and eat dinner! Experiencing rez life all over again at least makes me appreciate my cozy 2 bedroom apartment back home.

As fascinating as I'm sure hearing about my laundry room escapades must be, I'm actually very excited to finally be finding my center here. Mostly I can't wait to get started travelling, with only three classes to contend with at GCU. Next Friday I'm off to Paris with Holly, Shayna and Taylor for two days - lots to see and fit in before our flight home on the Sunday! I also bought a UK Railcard yesterday to save 1/3 of any train ticket to travel the UK. In November we're going to take a train to London to see the Harry Potter set at Leavesden Studios (I lose myself at movie studios... Paramount in LA was a dream come true) and probably spend the weekend seeing the sights. I hope to get up to Stirling and Falkirk in not too long, and can't wait to start planning our trip to Ireland! Things are starting to feel more like the way I thought this exchange would be like.

Glasgow Cathedral and Necropolis

Glasgow Cathedral

So, this tour was actually about a week ago but as I hope you can imagine, figuring out how to set myself up here has been a struggle to say the least. I basically feel completely uprooted from all my comforts and have been trying to make friendships and routines comparable to what I've left behind - which I can tell you right now feels impossible.

Glasgow Cathedral (left) and some of the city.

This trip was a free walking tour to the Glasgow Cathedral, burial place of St Mungo, patron saint of the city. I am an absolute cathedral junkie as I discovered during my high school trip to Spain. This was my first British cathedral, involved with the Reformation and all. This cathedral was built Catholic, and when the
Reformation happened, the people of Glasgow saved the building from being burned to the ground and simply continued using it as a place of worship once the national religious stance became Protestant in Scotland. There is lots of evidence of the wear and tear on the building, mostly ash and soot from the Industrial Revolution covering the outer walls.

Next to the cathedral is the Necropolos, or "City of the Dead" - a Victorian-era cemetery hosting graves of the city's people during most of the 1800's. The cemetery has tombstones, headstones, and even beautiful mausoleums that are the resting places of entire families. I learned that I am also a cemetery lover - I found the sculpture and quiet of the site so beautiful, and the mystery of the people buried there only hinted at by their epitaphs.

It was a very long walk and was dark by the time the tour was over and everyone had gone home -
Holly, Shayna and I weren't keen on getting lost in the Necropolis alone after nightfall, so we made our way fairly quickly back to the city center. I hope to go back there before the end of my trip and explore more of the cemetery's beautiful structures and scuptures.

Edinburgh Castle

Almost a week ago now - wow, time really picked up its pace - Taylor and I hopped on a bus to Edinburgh for the day. Unfortunately, we did so without realizing there was a free bus to Loch Lomond with the other GCU international students, so we missed out on that trip. But we had planned to meet up with Brittany doing an exchange in Edinburgh, but she was occupied on her own school trip. So we walked up "The Mound" to the Edinburgh castle. I love the lingo here in the UK, everything is so literal! Instead of exit, most places have signage pointing the "Way Out," and this massive uphill road is called the Mound. That's it, just the mound. I wore my rainboots because the morning in Glasgow was cold and wet, but I have to say something about the weather in this country.

Scotland is the most temperamental weather I have experienced - ever. I can wake up to sunny blue skies and by the time I get dressed, go out into a torrential downpour, and have the day switch back and forth between the two every twenty minutes. Anyway, I wore rubber boots and regretted in all day long.

Taylor and her coffee climbing the mound.

The city of Edinburgh is gorgeous - cobblestone and beautiful architecture. Around the castle is a little kitschy, but as a tourist I definitely loved it. The castle entrance was a loooong line, about an hour behind an unfortunately ignorant old man from New Jersey who insisted we were wrong in our interpretation of our own country. Painful.

The castle was beautifully preserved. Its walls were aged and crumbling, but each of the houses, rooms, and towers had be restored to exhibits. We saw the crown jewels of Scotland: the crown, sceptre and sword passed through the royal lineage. We saw the old prisons that had been restored to exhibit their original medeival conditions, and walked through the Edinburgh war museum. It's amazing how much deeper Scotland's history goes than Canada's.

In the World Wars memorial, we were able to leaf through military and navy records of Scotland. I found several Littles in the books - which wars they fought in, where and when they fell, and what rank they each were.








After the castle, we were very hungry! Taylor's friend Adam actually lives in Edinburgh, and he met up with us. I asked him where the best pub was and... he said they're all pretty much the same which was a disappointing answer. So we went into the first one, where I had an underwhelming lager and a fish and chips that didn't quite live up to the one I had at the Atholl Arms in Glasgow - but! Adam ordered haggis so that we could try some, and it was delicious!!! We called it a day and got back on the bus to Glasgow - only about an hour and twenty minutes each way, about £10 round trip 

Hey Badgers!

First Night Out

Okay, maybe a little late, but I'm finally going to tell you about my first experience of the Glasgow nightlife. Well - sort of. It's "Fresher's Week" here at GCU, so many of the clubs are doing events for first year students, which may not be the best representation of the actual experience. Regardless, I went out.
It was at a club just around a few corners from the university called Kushion - very hip, I know. The event actually had a bus shuttling people from the residence to the club, so we got on board and were given a set of markers and each of us received a white T-shirt to wear. After we spent the bus ride marking up each others' shirts, we arrived at Kushion.
It was a lower-level bar, below the street. Entry was free to people wearing the event shirts, and we pretty soon found out that shots were £1 each, and Heineken was £1.50 per can until midnight... at which point it became £2 - big deal. So apparently they make drinking easy for students. There was a woman doing neon facepaints for free, so Holly, Taylor and myself lined up and each got a different design. 

We found some friends from Caledonian court and danced with them. There were neon balloons all over the floor to kick around. Plenty of people from all over the world, like a couple of people from Paris that we chatted with, and of course the Scots. Holly and I have pretty much got our introductions down pat: She's American, I'm Canadian, yes we live together, yes we're 22 and 23, Holly's older, yes there is a lot of snow in Canada, yes it is warm in California... etc. I love the hilarious questions about home that I get asked - I love telling people about where I come from and why I love it so much!

About now is where the newness stopped and the club became just like the ones back home: smoke machine, DJ, blacklights, blah blah blah. When the three of us decided to call it a night, we just walked the short distance back to the residence with Lee and Fulvia, and ta-da. First night clubbing in Glasgow.

Taylor, Me, and Holly

Me and Taylor!

Myself, Taylor, Holly, Naomi, Lee, and Seamus

Welcome To Glasgow

It's been four days since my arrival and it's going pretty much as I imagined it would. I miss home, I miss Jarrett, but I talk to my friends and family every day. Last night Jarrett and I watched The Empire Strikes Back while messaging each other - as close as we can get to watching a movie together over the ocean. Besides trying to stay in touch, I've been going into the city every day.

Buchanan Square and Sauchiehall Street is pretty much what we've explored so far. It's beautiful and busy, with people and shops and street performers all day long.

Street piper on Sauchiehall street.

It gets even more beautiful at night when the shops are closed and the streets are lit up. The strip is all walkway - only interrupted by traffic every now and then, which most of the pedestrians seem to take on at their own risk. I'm learning the colloquial rules of streetcrossing: cross whenever you want, make sure there's nobody coming in a massive double decker bus to mow you down. The streets are busy all day long, so crowded you can barely move around but maintains a good traffic flow regardless. In the evening, shops all seems to close around 8pm and the people disappear, leaving a few bar crawlers, street musicians, grocery shoppers, and the homeless on the barren stone pathways. I had my first late-night venture to McDonald's with Holly last night, after we enjoyed some of the case of beer we split on. I can't seem to wrap my head around buying alcohol from the grocery store, much less find grocery store brand gin, vodka, etc. We were amazed to find a pack of 20 bottles of Stella for only £12 - about $19 CAD. Turns out, the McDonalds here is just as satisfying as back home.  

The view from Buchanan Square.

The shopping is great. Topshop, Forever21, HMV, H&M, NewLook, Boots, and of course places I have yet to discover. I came equipped with rainboots and a rain jacket but found the rain on a bit of a holiday this week. So I went to the biggest Forever21 I have ever seen - 3 stories - and bought a £15 leather quilted bomber jacket that has been my go-to since.

Taylor and I are hoping to go to Edinburgh to visit Brittany this weekend and plan our first real travel excursion. I really hope to go to Ireland, England, France, and of course explore Scotland while I'm here. 

My Arrival

Leaving Toronto was a blur, to be honest. I met a girl my age who was taking the same connection to Glasgow, headed off to arts school for a three year degree in sculpting. We got along really well, right up until we exchanged Facebook info and she took off in Glasgow. I stayed to wait for Taylor (also from Brock) to arrive so that we could head to GCU together, but after all the sleep deprivation and ibuprofen it didn’t occur to me that Taylor was arriving from the UK - not from an international flight - and I ended up waiting at arrivals for an hour and a half before giving up and getting into a taxi on my own.

The taxi to GCU was about £25, a small price to pay to not have to find my own way by bus. Upon arriving, I had been told to register at the student center and get my keys. When I arrived there, 40 kg of luggage in tow, I was told that no, I must go across the street to the residence.

I am becoming increasingly frustrated with the poor communication of the university. I had to ask twice for affirmation of residence placement, and only upon my second request did I get a notice that I had been assigned a room. Also, apparently the students arriving had already registered for classes and been assigned a student ID, login and password in an email from the university - an email I never received. Since I arrived on a Sunday, I have to wait until 11am tomorrow both to be granted access to the internet (thus the late post) and to speak to someone and hope against hope that I can be registered in the classes I’ve been approved for from Brock.

I had requested a bedding and kitchen package so that I didn’t have to worry about these things on the day of my arrival before I could get in some sleep. The bedding I was given is thinner than paper, and both looks and feels like a hospital gown. The pillow is very similar to the one I was given on my economy class flight. The residence is less than impressive, and many of the students I’ve met agree, telling me stories of filthy carpets, walls and kitchens upon their arrival. After all of this and no sleep, my anxiety washed over me and I was basically incapacited for the afternoon, until I was able to fall asleep for a couple of hours. When I woke up, my next door flatmate, Holly from California, was exactly the kind of person I needed. She told me about her first night, and brought me along to a get together with some friends she’d made. After my nap and some friendly interaction, I decided early to bed was my best bet for having a better day tomorrow. To prepare, I’ve made a list of things I want to buy, and Holly told me where the dollar store, or the “PoundLand” is.

The hardest parts have been running on such little sleep (about an hour on the flight from Reykjavik to Glasgow) and not having any access to the internet to contact Jarrett or my family. My three Spanish roommates have let me get onto their laptops to at least let them know that I won’t be in contact until tomorrow. I think, after a good sleep and something substantial to eat in the morning (where I’ll find that, I don’t know yet), I’ll be better equipped to settle myself into GCU.

Saying Goodbye

My family is supportive of me, all the time, no matter what. Since I mentioned I was thinking of doing a semester abroad, my parents have encouraged every step to took to get me here. Now I'm sitting at my gate in the Toronto airport, watching luggage being trucked on board - knowing mine is in there somewhere (at least, hoping it is!) My brother postponed his moving to Waterloo until tomorrow, and my sister took the weekend off work to be able to get together for my departure. Jarrett and I spent Wednesday together, both of us deciding we'd rather say goodbye then than drag it out the rest of the week and make my airport drop-off even more wrenching. The five of us went to Canyon Creek for dinner near the airport, before parking (!) and walking into the terminal with me. Hugs were given and pictures were taken, but I found it difficult to spend a lot of time saying goodbye. As my anxiety began to creep up, I had to spin on my heels and walk through the security line with my family waving goodbye on the other side. 

I've never flown by myself before, but I'm glad for all the experience I've had flying with my family - one less thing to stress about when I already know the motions I'm being put through. I'm also so glad to be Canadian, leaving my home country amongst smiles and good wishes of all the airport staff I've encountered. My high-flying, points-earning father managed to get my flight entirely on his reward points, which gave me access to the airline lounge. So I am here, enjoying a glass of red wine in the peaceful KLM lounge before this exciting chapter begins. I can't help feeling that this will be an awfully big adventure.

The Eve Of My Departure

Light packer, extraordinaire.

Hello Webisphere - here marks the beginning of my travel blog, the account of my four-month adventure across the Atlantic. I'm a 22-year-old Brock University student majoring in Popular Culture with the CPCF department (Communications, Popular Culture, and Film Studies). Brock gives each student the incredible opportunity to study at a partner school abroad for one or two semesters, for the tuition cost of studying at home. I chose to go to Glasgow, Scotland for one semester (too chicken to commit to a full year abroad!).

So here I am, sitting in bed (trying to get an early night to make up for the inevitable lost sleep from my overnight flight tomorrow) taking stock of my luggage. Visually, I see one large blue suitcase, one carry-on pink case, and my floral school backpack. Internally, I know that it took two days of cramming, folding, stuffing, dumping, repacking, and rolling to fit all my choice articles into my luggage. Somehow, I managed to pack for four months abroad into three bags of varying sizes.
 I had to keep telling myself that laundry and toiletries are established amenities worldwide, and I didn't need to pack my own toothpaste, soap, or enough clean clothing to get me through the one hundred twenty days I'm to spend across the pond. When I get anxious, I get... crazy. Normally what I rely on is my boyfriend Jarrett's words of wisdom to bring me back to the realm of sanity but we said our goodbyes two days ago. And so, to cope without him, I have done plenty of preparation.

I've done my research on currency, taxis, subways, and getting a pay-as-you-go phone once I arrive. I've suspended my home cell account, notified my bank that I'll be in the UK, and gotten all the paperwork together to A) cross the border and B) open a local bank account. I've packed twice, double-checked with my airline that I'm within all the baggage restrictions, and have printed a copy of my travel itinerary. I've even Google-Earth'd my residence at Glasgow Caledonian, just to have something to expect when I arrive.

I seem to be split in two - between really looking forward to going to Glasgow, and really anxious and upset about leaving home. I'm sure once I've landed, unpacked, and taken a deep breath I'll feel much more settled.