Journey north!

Hello all! I didn't realize it had been so long since I last checked in! Over a month has gone by. Unforgivable. I know you have all probably been wasting away for want of a Matt Roe blog, so let me hereby erase all previous anxiety and general misery.
So what has been keeping me from my blogging duties? Quite a bit, you might imagine. The best part of the past month by far has been my trip to Scotland. Anticipating the onset of what the Oxford students call "5th week blues," essentially a general discontent and depression setting in around midterm, when the work load is piling up, and the end is not quite within sight, I decided what any rational person would decide: I needed a vacation! We'll neglect the fact that this took a rather lengthy process of preparation, meaning a total of five papers (around 11000 words in all - 44 pages) in nine days. Possibly one of the most taxing academic periods of my life, but entirely worth it. I set out from Oxford Wednesday, Feb. 18th straight after the conclusion of my 19th century novel tutorial. It started raining on my way to the station, possibly putting an early damper on the trip, but the rain stopped and the sun came out as soon as the train started moving; a good omen. The train ride up to Edinburgh (pronounced Ed-in-bura, or that's the closest I can get) was wonderful and provided some stunning views of the English countryside. I went from Oxford to York, and changed there to catch a train up to Edinburgh. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see much of York, which allegedly still has a medieval wall surrounding the city centre, and is also the home of Nestle, but maybe I'll leave that for another trip. The passing countryside afforded views of fields and pastures, lots of sheep, ancient stone walls separating acres of farmland, several castles (one of them rising on the crest of a cliff in the mist - absolutely picturesque), and a church spire in every municipality. I arrived in Edinburgh just around dinner time, which was optimal. I walked off my platform at Waverly station to find none other than Sarah Bruce, freshly arrived from Aberdeen. We set off immediately to find our hostel, the Castle Rock Hostel, located directly at the base of Edinburgh Castle. We checked in with the sketchy receptionist (dreds down to his waist) and managed to get two beds for two nights, difficult since this place was voted last year the UK's top hostel. It had a lot of character, to say the least. We found our room in the maze of a hostel, dropped our bags off, noted the view (our window looked out at the Castle, not too shabby), and immediately headed out to explore the city and appreciate its nightlife. Our first stop was for dinner, where, I must confess, we both got some haggis. I know, my second time; I really have no excuse. When in Scotland, right? We went from there to a football pub, where they had Premier League games covering every tv screen in the place. Our last stop for the night was a pub called Jekyll and Hyde (author Robert Louis Stevenson is one among many famous Scots, especially in their rich literary tradition), where Sarah and I got to enjoy part of their signature drinks series, The Seven Deadly Sins. I had Lust, and Sarah had Sloth. Think what you will... We finished the night enjoying the cultural blend of the hostel's lounge while playing Jenga and planning out our next day.
We started out early Thursday morning, grabbing a quick breakfast (complete with tea) and hiking up the hill to the Castle. We got in as soon as it opened, and spent the next couple hours hiking all over the well-preserved fortress. It is situated on top of a hill rising out of the centre of Edinburgh, right at the conclusion of the Royal Mile, and has a commanding view of the entire city. Highlights of the castle were its enormous cannon (dubbed Mons Meg), Scottish war memorial, mannequin displays (they seem to have some strange obsession with the plastic people in this city), prisoner of war display (including graffiti carved into a door by American Revolutionary War sailors), dog cemetery (graves of soldier's dogs - Sarah's favorite was Tinker, which she proceeded to pronounce in a whiny voice for the rest of the trip, much to the joy of her traveling companion), and Lady Margaret's Chapel. Once leaving the Castle, we headed down the Royal Mile, the famous processional route from Holyrood Palace (where the monarch stays when she is visiting Scotland) up to the Castle. The strip offers nearly everything, from touristy shops to kilt stores to restaurants of every nationality to museums and cathedrals galore. On our royal march down the hill, we stopped at any place that looked interesting or historically significant, meaning it took us a long time to get down to Holyrood. Some highlights along the way were the John Knox museum, the Museum of Childhood, the grave of Adam Smith, and St. Gile's Cathedral. We finally got to Holyrood, which sits in the shadow of Arthur's Seat, an enormous hill that rises up on the south side of Edinburgh. Normally, it can be hiked, but said traveling companion didn't have the shoes for it. Ahem. But we got to see the Queen's Gallery, which is her majesty's private art collection, and got to tour the entire palace, since the queen was not currently in residence. That means we got to see everything, including her bedchamber and dressing room, etc. Unfortunately, the gardens were closed for the winter, but we were able to tour the Holyrood Abbey ruins directly adjacent to the palace. A good portion of the walls and pillars of the abbey remain, but the roof collapsed centuries ago, exposing the interior to light and grass. The scene apparently moved Felix Mendelssohn to compose part of his Scottish Symphony, and it's easy to see why.
From there, we climbed back up the Holy Mile, passing by the Scottish parliament building (not in session, so not available for viewing), which Sarah and I mistook for a modern art museum or new-age theater. That should give you some idea of the bizarre architecture of the place. It looked more like a glorified teepee than a place of legislation. We split off from the Royal Mile to find an obscure haunted graveyard, where the legend of Greyfriar's Bobby was born. Apparently, this dog sat on the grave of his dead master, a friar, for several years. There's a little grave for the dog and a statue for him there too. This was appropriate, since Edinburgh claims to be Europe's most haunted city. In that vein, Sarah and I decided to participate in a tour of the city's vaults (at 9 at night, naturally, to maximize the scary effect), where all manner of evil deeds are supposed to have occurred. Our tour guide claimed that the tour we went on was even featured on Discovery Channel's "Most Haunted." There were several different level of paranormal activity in the vaults, but unfortunately Sarah and I had no supernatural experiences to share after coming back above ground. We even stepped into a haunted circle in hopes of provoking some sort of attack, but to no avail. We spent the rest of the night touring more of Edinburgh's pubs, including one where there was an intense elderly couple playing folk music.
The next morning, we had to grab an early train out so Sarah could get back in time for a tutorial. We grabbed breakfast at a cafe called The Elephant House, nicknamed "The Birthplace of Harry Potter," because it's where J.K. Rowlings first thought up the ideas for the famed series and wrote them down on scraps of napkins. In that spirit, I wrote down a couple sentences as well, and am now waiting for the Muse to strike. The train ride up to Aberdeen was even more beautiful than the one to Edinburgh. It followed along the coast, and even passed over the bay a couple times. There were sheep grazing on cliffsides, abbey ruins by the sea, and pristine golf courses (it is the birthplace of the game after all) looking out over the ocean, simply breathtaking. Aberdeen itself was far different from Edinburgh. Edinburgh is a very glamorous town. Grand structures, ancient roots, royal connections. Aberdeen is still quite old, but has a more modern, and also a much smaller feel. Sarah and I walked from the train station to the University, where she showed me around the campus briefly before depositing me in the student centre while she went to class. I just sat at one of the computer terminals there while I waited, and had a quick chance to see Steph Tanner before she headed off to a frisbee tournament for the weekend. Sarah came back later in the afternoon, accompanied by yet another Ole, Calli Olson. It was beginning to feel like a little reunion! And the familiar faces were certainly a welcome sight. Together, the three of us went back to Hillhead, the residential community where they both live. I got to meet some of Sarah's and Calli's flatmates while we cooked in the kitchen and got ready for the night. Together with two of their flatmates (who were both from Norway!! I was really excited about that), we hopped on a bus bound for the city for our nightly round of the pubs and clubs. Among the highlights were a church-turned-haunted pub called Slaine's Castle.
The next day, Sarah, Calli, and I got back on the train and took a short trip to a little station in a town called Stonehaven. We walked down the hill from the station into the quaint coastal town. We walked straight to the sea and walked along the boardwalk there. It was a perfect day for the trip: the sun was actually out (a rarity on this island), the temperature was hovering around the mid-forties. We couldn't have asked for any better. The wind was a little heavy, but it completed the coastal picture. We hiked along the coast up into the cliffs, stopping by a Scottish war memorial atop one of the hills. Eventually, we could sight the ruins of Dunnottar Castle in the distance. This place was incredible. It really is no more than ruins now, with grass growing all through the center of it, and sunlight illuminating all that used to be covered by stone. It sits on a rock jutting out into the ocean, which made it most likely one of the most impenetrable fortresses in medieval times. The castle was preserved exactly as it had been found. There were a few signs out, but no unnatural lights in the rooms, which lent to its beauty. I read on one of the inscriptions that apparently William Wallace burnt down the chapel in the castle back in the 13th century, so I was re-inspired to watch Braveheart after the trip. Additionally, we were able to check out some of the tunnels traversing the the rock on which the castle was founded. One of them emerged out onto the sea, and we three walked down to the water. Calli was even bold enough to take off a shoe and dip her toe into the freezing water. Not so for Sarah and me. But we all enjoyed the incredible scenery (including the head of a seal poking through the waves not too far off in the cove and a waterfall trickling down to the ocean), and made the two and a half mile journey back still in awe.
Unfortunately, due to stupidity on the part of yours truly in ordering his train tickets, I had to leave that night. I had made reservations with the intent of making it back to Oxford in time for evensong rehearsal at 4, meaning I had to take the first train out of Edinburgh that morning. That, however, meant that I had to take the last night train from Aberdeen to Edinburgh on Saturday. I know, brilliant. So after making what seemed an early departure, I was headed back to Edinburgh. Apparently, I missed the memo that you're supposed to get belligerently drunk before taking a long late-night train trip. I made my way to the last carriage on the train, thinking I'd be the only one back there, and hoping to get a little sleep. No luck. A group of loud men came on the carriage, followed a few minutes later by a younger couple. The men proceeded to loudly discuss football the entire trip, while the young couple moved to opposite ends of the carriage and yelled profanities at each other. It was a delightful way to spend Saturday night.
It had been my intention to spend a "homeless night" in Edinburgh upon arriving. My train got in at 12:30, and my train out in the morning was scheduled for 9, so I figured it wasn't worth paying for a hostel, and I had planned to spend the night at the station. No luck. As soon as I had got settled into my spot in the station, an attendant came by to inform me that they were closing for the evening. I guess I didn't look trustworthy. So I went out into Edinburgh and managed to find the second to last available bed in one of the hostels close by, arriving at 1 and leaving at 7 the next morning. Hardly worth it, but you'll be satisfied to know I was safe and sheltered for the evening. No problems on the train ride the next morning. I arrived back in London at King's Cross, took a short tube ride over to Paddington, where I caught the train back to Oxford. Strangely, I actually saw someone I knew in the masses of people at Paddington. One of the basses in choir (a resident of Edinburgh), had gone home for the weekend, and was completing the same trip as me, trying to get back in time for evensong. We got off the train in Oxford at 3:45, and were back in St. Peter's Chapel by 4:05, only five minutes late. Pretty impeccable timing.
Overall, it was an incredible experience. It was a blast (and quite reassuring) to see some familiar St. Olaf faces. Scotland is beautiful. I'd definitely recommend it if you get a chance. And I might just make the bold move of declaring (at least at this time) Edinburgh as my new favorite city. I know, it's an adventurous claim, but quite justified at the moment. I hope to update you all on the more immediate goings-on my life at some point, once work slows down. Until then, keep your stick on the ice, and, as always, I'd love to hear about life back stateside!