I’m a planner. I’ve come to grips with that fact. When will I learn that unpredictable days are usually the best? Today I thought I would get up, walk to the bus station, take the bus to church, attend church, and then head back to New Hall. What a joke! It’s a good thing my list only requires that I “use public transportation,” not master it.
I can safely say that if you’re heading to Madras College on South Street, taking the 99 Stagecoach Fife is not necessary. In fact, the walk to David Russell Apartments, where the bus picks up, from New Hall is exactly the same distance as New Hall to Madras College. Another student I met, whilst waiting for the useless bus, was kind enough to impart this little tidbit. Despite minor frustration, the trek wasn’t totally unrewarded – lovely countryside can be viewed from the foot path, if that’s any consolation.
Once at Madras College, I found a dilapidated building with ravens cawing overhead. I half expected Dr. Frankenstein to barge out of the creaky wooden doors, screaming “It’s ALIVE!” at any moment. After poking around a bit, I discovered that the street side of Madras College did, indeed, advertise St. Andrews Baptist Church. Sadly, the Madras College on Kilrymont Road that I needed for Sunday Morning Service was a good 30 minute walk away. Thanks goes to a kind passerby for this information, “O, yes, Kilrymont. That’s where the Baptist’s meet.” She said skeptically. Looking at the time, nine-fifty, I broke down and called a taxi. Too many Madras Colleges! For the record, I don’t think I could have found Kilrymont Road if my life depended on it though, ironically, the bus zipped right past Kilrymont earlier! Thankfully, St. Andrews Baptist Church was worth the effort.
Warm and friendly (Scottish!) faces greeted me at the door. I met a few Americans who had been studying or living in St. Andrews for a year or two – so they’re practically locals in my book. We sang songs and I was comforted to hear the familiar words. The associate pastor gave an absolutely inspiring sermon out of Hosea, speaking of God’s great love for us despite our constant attempts to run away “to a far country.” I thought how especially poignant those words were to me, being in a far country myself. After the service, tea and biscuits (read: cookies) were provided and I met even more British locals, who invited me to Bible study later on this week. Of course, the warm-fuzzy feelings couldn’t last for long. The church-run student bus (which I will catch next week) left whilst I was blissfully unaware, so I had to walk back into town. The transportation adventure continues.
You wouldn’t think that such a small hamlet of a town could be so confusing. Really, it shouldn’t be. People have been finding their way around St. Andrews for over 600 years – but not this year! I followed the “Town Centre” signs into a residential district. I’ve noticed that Brits don’t believe in babying their subjects. A sign may point you in the right direction, for an instance, but will not follow up with another sign for quite a while. In America we have directions posted every few feet, not so here in the UK. A sweet woman even assured me that I couldn’t really get lost in St. Andrews. The British must have more faith in the common sense of humanity. I was sorry to let them down! Stumbling around for a good quarter of an hour, I finally found a foot-bridge that led into town, walked up an incredibly steep ancient lane, and ended up right where my journey started – in front of the Old Madras College.
My day ended in a quiet café, chatting with two fellow Junior Semester Abroad students. How lovely to find kindred spirits, no matter their nationality! Before finally heading back to New Hall, I stopped in the Student’s Union just in time to see France pummel Scotland in a 6 Nations Rugby game. Everyone I spoke with about this match didn’t seem to have much faith in the Scottish Rugby Union anyway. I will give Scotland points for effort. Rugby is such a blood sport. Those guys make NFL look like ballerinas! After the match, I think everyone drowned their sorrows with whiskey and IRN-BRU.
Now, I am safely in my hall of residence watching the corridors come alive with students returning from Winter Holiday. Classes begin tomorrow and I’m off to get a head start on reading Waverly.
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