Hannah came to visit me the week of St. Patrick's Day. I had a marvelous time showing her around Edinburgh. It's always enjoyable to show people a place that they are seeing for the first time even if you're a novice yourself- boosts your confidence incredibly.
I took her to one of my favorite spots in Edinburgh, the National Monument. I talked about it in an earlier post with pictures- it's that oddly Roman looking building on the hill. Here, we did what any civilized, young ladies from America would do. We climbed everything possible, failing on numerous accounts, and took silly photos. Is adulthood supposed to be just like childhood? I'm going to safely say that in my case, there are no other options than good-spirited and well-timed immaturity.
As stated, the National Monument vantage point is filled with things to climb. For those with a long reach this is fantastic news, however, for those of us with stubbier limbs this can be a point of embarrassment. The embarrassment of struggling to climb seemingly easy structures is exponential increased when the wind rudely picks up one's skirt- thank goodness for leggings.
As my dear parents know, I also have a fascination with trying to break into things that you're supposed to let be. This habit has gotten me into abandon houses, schools, island cottages and God knows where else. It's a problem but honestly, I grew up in Maine- thrills aren't readily available for a group of adventurous teens. Unfortunately, Scotland must know this habit runs in American tourists because this building was literally barred the entire way around much to my dismay.
Well, sometimes my immaturity is not well-timed such as the above photo. I promise I do have some classier portraits but what fun are those compared with the irreverent?
Also, we tried fried candy bars. Now, you'll hear some supposed do-gooder, health fanatics tell you that taking an already horrible for you substance and deep-frying it is asking for early cardiac arrest. But come on, what's life for if one can't take the bull by the horns and chomp into this delicious creation. Let your pretensions down and just try one at some point. I'm not asking you to make it a staple in your diet but you owe it to yourself to walk on the wild side once in a bit.
Our second fun adventure was to Craigmiller Castle, which was the first I had been to in the Edinburgh area. I know, I know. I haven't been to Edinburgh Castle but that 14 or so quid ticket just keeps me at bay and I have walked to it multiple times and lingered outside the door. No, I have not yet found a way to sneak in but I assure you I am working on it. Craigmiller was fantastic however because you have to amble through a small forest and fields to get to it and once there, you have free reign to explore the castle. Mary, Queen of Scots (now there's a moniker I'd like to get!) actually stayed here but it was during a deep time of depression for her so the castle does have an eerie feeling in her dwelling chambers. However, the rest of it is so gorgeous that it's made me seriously consider investing in castle property.
The walk we took to get there, deemed "Lady Susan's Walk"- no doubt after the noblewoman at 45 Mckeen Street.
This is the castle. You can see what I mean about gaining an interest in purchasing one.
Especially when the courtyards look like this!
Continuing with my theme of adulthood, Hannah and I took this opportunity to pose like princesses.
Ladylike in all ways
Well, not all ways perhaps but you always need a good "They're cooking me in the medieval oven picture!" Right?
This was taken at the top tower of the castle. I think I make a dandy explorer!
Now, while I may be horrible at climbing things, my lack of height allows me the fun of getting into all sorts of nooks and crannies. Being short has to have some advantage to it!
Our final voyage and certainly our most perilous was to Ireland to spend the days leading up to and the infamous St. Patrick's day on its shores. Now, I had always imagined Dublin would be an industrial looking city, attractive in its own right but not exactly a mind-blower like Paris. However, I was happily mistaken. Dublin is gorgeous and I can honestly say that I found it to be as quaint as an enormous city can be. It's inviting and filled with unexpected quirks. Perhaps the pictures will better illustrate it than my nonsensical rambling.
Posing with the James Joyce statue
Fountains are no rarity in Dublin
See, it's adorable!
Now, I' ve shook hands with a good many people in my day, priding myself on having the sort of firm handshake that takes people by surprise. But, some handshakes are just more special that others, such as a handshake with an 800-year-old, preserved crusader. Yes, what you read is the truth, cross my heart and whatever other playground oaths you'd like me to take. Hannah and I visited a small church named St. Michan's and took a tour of the underground vaults. Who would have thought that a stable temperature, limestone walls and methane gas would be the perfect recipe for a mummy maker? The crusader's casket had been crushed open through decay and this gave the church, who otherwise cannot legally open the caskets, the opportunity for some investigation of the individual inside. When I say he was preserved, I mean preserved. The man's toenails curled up as though begging for a solid pedicure, although I don't think it would due his leathery hide much good.
The guide of the tour took us around and explained why they thought he was a crusader. First, he's around 6 foot 5, which is tall by today's standards but giant in older times. Second, he has his legs crossed in a manner that was only suitable in the burial of crusaders. The guide toyed with us, filling the tombs with fascinating historical background and then eventually relayed that we would be allowed to touch the crusader. Why would anyone want to touch an 800 year old corpse, you ask? Well, they say it's good luck to shake a crusader's hand and when the tour guide made it clear that we would be bestowed with this honor, I was ecstatic. Now, my normal don't-you-dare-take-me-for-the-one-of-those-ninny-girls handshakes obviously would not do but I can say without a doubt that getting to touch a man who live 800 years ago and participated in the crusades makes this the best handshake I will ever experience. Whether or not good luck rubbed off, we'll wait and see but the experience in itself was pretty fortunate.
From Dublin we went to Galway, where Hannah spent a semester in high school studying abroad. I loved Galway, absolutely fell head over heals with its charm. I mean, I know I'm a sucker for cute, cobble-stoned streets but just look at the photos.
Now, due to Galway's placement, it is one of the rainiest cities in Ireland, but I'll be damned if that dampened its charm.
This area is pretty much the shopping center, but it gives the right impression of a Hogsmeade-esque little city. I half expected to turn its corners and find Honeydukes or The Three Broomsticks.
This was taken at the top of a diving point into the ocean which Hannah apparently did at one point, fully clothed, during her stay in Galway- a terrifying feat both in regards to temperature and height. Now, although I like my handshakes to express my lack of ninny-ness, I can't deny that heights turn me into quite the shivering crybaby. On a foggy day like this one, this diving point looks a bit like the world's end.
Also, it's on the ocean- a sight that makes the Mainer in me feel more than rejuvenated.
Daffodils are everywhere in both Scotland and Ireland, begging to be frolicked in and I always oblige fields of flowers.
Now we come to St. Patrick's Day which was interesting because Hannah and I actually had to get to the airport on this day and fly out at 8 pm. The streets of Dublin where lined with Irish pride but my favorite part was actually airport security- something I doubt I will ever find myself saying again. People were going through in the most ridiculous, leprechaun-like garb I have ever seen, removing 3 foot high hats and parts of green jumpsuits. It was an absolute blast but I'll let this last picture express my ending state. If you've ever read Dr. Seuss' "Happy Birthday to You", I was more than ready to be flown off on my "very soft platter".
For my next update I'll be discussing my friend Katie's visit, our voyage to Thirsk, the home village of the real-life James Herriot, Alf Wight and our travels to the famous Loch Ness. However, I'll let you digest all of this and give my digits a rest before delving into that fantastic adventure.
Once again, my love, you have made me smile, laugh, and sigh. I soooo love your blog. When you come home you are definitely going to need to find something else - anything else - to blog about. You're beautiful and I love you :-)
ReplyDeleteAunt Mary