Embracing an unusually light week of coursework, I backpacked from Dundee to Edinburgh to Glasgow and back on a journey from February 4th-8th.
Some aspects of my trip were constant: I wore the same pants, jacket, and shoes every day (even on Day 3’s run along the river). I actively recorded my thoughts in a journal. I read the section “A GOOD LIFE” from Garrison Keillor’s anthology Good Poems (a graduation present from my remarkably supportive mentor and teacher, Ed Nolan) daily.
Most moments were charged with entropy: I met a 35 year-old Scottish Engineer named Andrew on my train ride back to Dundee. Meeting a 49er’s fan in a candy shop in Edinburgh. My roommate got arrested on my first night in Glasgow.
I did my best to wrap up each day’s adventure and will be posting one blog each day beginning Monday February 10th. Cheers!
"Taking what is, and seeing it as it is,
Pretending to no heroic stances or gestures,
Keeping it simple; being in love with light and the marvelous things that light is able to do,
How beautiful! a modesty which is
Seductive extremely, the care for daily things."
- Vermeer by Howard Nemerov
What Has Changed
I left Dundee in a frantic state at five in the morning on Tuesday. Since then, I’ve learned about two of Scotland’s biggest cities, how to stay healthy when I travel, and what it feels like to eat a carton of hard-boiled eggs every day for five days.
I’m much more comfortable with time alone and am more confident in my ability to tackle anxious thoughts at their onset. My desire to move through the world as the most authentic version of myself has been restored through the act of reading poetry in front of strangers. And my passion for small joys like an excellent cup of coffee or beautiful plants has been refreshed.
But I am beginning to recognize how odd these things are relative to our normative society. Is it possible that people will not like the strange bird who sat atop stairs in Glasgow and read poetry because it felt right? And if they don’t accept me, where will I go? Will I be able to find new people? Will those people be genuine? Though dramatic, my fears tend to compound and these thoughts are honest.
They are also valid. Growth is scary.
I am 21 years old and I have many insecurities. But this week I took time to tackle a few of them.
What Remains the Same
I made it on the train with little time to spare. One of my good friends from Northeastern, Alana, is working in London this semester and was spending an extended weekend in Edinburgh. She graciously offered up one of these precious vacation days to spend time running around town with me. So I created a long layover in Edinburgh on my way home from Glasgow and we were able to do just that—explore chaotically.
Alana has a reputation for walking everywhere she needs to go, and I tend to do the same. So we thought nothing of a three mile walk to our first destination, especially because the view was said to be unbeatable! We got to walking and talking about meeting new people in the UK, my new fascination with Glasgow’s Botanic Gardens, and the cultural relevance of the movie Marriage Story while walking to the edge of Edinburgh. The relaxed conversation we slid into made it easy to laugh and turn around when we arrived at the docks and saw the terrible, industrial, fenced-in view of the North Sea.
We started making the trek back towards city center with food on the mind but stopped at a small book store along the way, equally hungry for a good reading nook.
Agreeing that we had worked hard for our food, we opted for a relaxing lunch. Mum’s served up irresistible comfort food in a diner environment and I got to try my first Sheppard’s Pie! Our server recommended that we check out the candy store around the block but reminded us that we only had an hour before it started raining down heavy.
We got moving quickly and were welcomed by the friendly owner of Bain’s Candy. The surplus of sugary delights drew us in and the friendly customers inside persuaded me to try the chocolate covered coffee beans. They were both from Scotland but the one man had befriended a few Americans in college who got him into American football. He was sad to share that his team is the San Francisco 49ers, but I assured him it was still a better year to be a 49ers fan than a Browns fan. The owner told us that he gets pictures of everyone who meets in his store, and asked if he could take ours too.
£10 later, we left the candy store with more sugar than I could’ve ever dreamed of convincing my parents to buy me as a kid. Adulthood isn’t glamorous, but it has its upsides.
It started drizzling as we hit the steps of Spoon where we stayed dry while sipping coffee and continuing to catch up on the moments we’ve missed since leaving Boston in December. I was getting antsy and decided—knowing full well that it was pouring rain outside—that we should go across the street for some Scottish whiskey before Alayna leaves.
I had directions but proved inept at following them, so we walked into the closest pub we could find. Our random find was incredible. After confessing our ignorance, the bartender helped us pick two sweeter whiskies. We sipped our drinks while laughing at the fact that we definitely chose the wrong shoes for traveling around Scotland.
Alana had stored my backpack in her locker, so after we finished our drinks we ran back to her hostel in an even heavier rain. I hugged Alana goodbye and thanked her for spending a whole day with me, protected my computer from the rain as best I could, then made my way down to Edinburgh Waverley train station for the fourth and final time of the trip.
I made my way to my seat, realized I was in the wrong cabin, then made my way to the correct seat. I sat down next to a nice middle-aged Scottish man. We talked about the chaotic state of global politics and his trip to the United States (which included a stop in Boston).
He reached his hand out for a handshake, “The name’s Andrew, yours?”
When we got to Dundee, I said goodbye to my new friend Andrew, made my way home from the train station, ripped off my wet socks, then went to bed, at peace with the fact that I will always be welcomed in Scotland.