Bagpipes, Kilts, and Castles

Well, what a lovely day it’s been - my favorite in the Highlands, so far.

All that pipe-banding finally paid-off. This morning, the big town of Dingwall celebrated the opening of their refurbished High Street. My Highland friend donned her kilt this morning and marched up the sprawling metropolis of Dingwall with her faithful bagpipes. I have to say, pipes sound so much better outside as opposed to indoors. The band played Highland Cathedral, one of my classically-American favorites, and the Gaelic choir sounded just lovely. For a nation full of stiff upper-lips, their music is absolutely heart breaking.

The real treat happened this afternoon. My friend’s father, ever so kindly, drove us to Dunrobbin Castle for a wee visit. Dunrobbin, you’ll know, is the seat of the Earls and Dukes of Sutherland. We popped round the old place to have a look and were, shockingly, not invited for tea! A bit gutted, we decided to see the falconry display instead. With birds of prey swooping overhead, it was all very exciting. If you’re ever in the Glospie area of Scotland, this fowl-affair is not to be missed! Really, the falcon master was just amazing. Not only was he entertaining and knowledge, but so calm and capable with the animals. We strolled through the French-chateaux style gardens dotting the grounds before entering the castle.

Dunrobbin Castle is just gorgeous. The original bits date back to 1401 and the house slowly added extensions through the 19^th century, until it came to its current Franco-Scot façade. Much to my delight, Queen Victoria stayed at Dunrobbin in 1872. She left a handkerchief there during her visit and seeing one-hundred year old snot was pretty amazing, it must be said. More so, Dunrobbin Castle really was absolutely stunning. Gorgeous oak-paneling, fur rugs, flagstone staircases and so on – everything that one would expect from a proper castle.

Our drive back was proper Scottish with regards to the weather. This evening, my lovely Highland hosts ended up serving an American dinner: salad, pizza, and cheesecake. We watched Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and I never before realized just how ‘American’ that show really is. Tonight we’ve been watching Eurovision which is great entertainment. Really, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a grown man wearing eyeliner and blue trousers prancing about the stage. It has to be said, I’m rooting for Iceland this year. Especially since their song is wonderfully ironic, singing about “the bright blue sky above me.” You have to love it. Skye tomorrow!

Highland Fling!

So, I’m on the first leg of my ‘Highland Fling’ journey. Tonight you find me arrived in Dingwall, Ross-shire. Our journey up from St. Andrews was very, uh, Highland (read: windy, cold, rainy). However, the hospitality of my Highland friend and her family well makes up for the chilly weather!

We stopped at the famously posh House of Bruar for a bread and soup lunch, very pleasant. Then, tonight, we went off to pipe band. I have come to the decision that bagpipes should not be played indoors. As glorious as Scotland the Brave sounds, it should be performed in the open Scottish air. Until tomorrow!

A sweet goodbye means a sweet hello next time.

Post-exam life is the best. The End. I’ve been able to indulge in those little luxuries which are generally impossible to fit-in during the year.

On Saturday, a kindred spirit of mine treated us to High Tea at the Old Course Hotel. Despite all my life experiences, I still have no idea how to really manage in uber posh places. I mean, our servers placed the napkins on our laps for us! What’s a girl with shoes held together by duct-tape to do? But as usual, I acted like myself and everything was fine. High Tea, with the Celtic harpist stringing away, was just lovely. My friend and I found two hours’ worth of conversation in each other, which was a great time to reflect on our respective semesters and to think about the challenges and changes we’ve experienced. St Andrews was in a glorious condition this Saturday, to boot. The Conservatory was the best location, with sunlight streaming in the open windows and plenty of golfers on the Links to keep us entertained.

Afterwards, I hit the beach with my lovely New Hall friends. We splashed about the waves and soaked up the sun. Really, I can’t believe that it’s only 70 degrees Fahrenheit. The locals are calling it a “heat wave”. And, to be fair, so am I! Sunshine is such a welcome reprise to the chilly Scottish days.

Sunday, which unfortunately kicked-off with a 4:30am fire alarm (some crazy idiot set fire in a stairwell), found me the most emotional I’ve been with regards to leaving Scotland. In the middle of Communion at church, my last “official” Sunday, I burst into tears. I think the only people who noticed were sitting next to me, thank goodness. The fact that my time is finished in Scotland, for the present, was one of the most bittersweet realizations ever. Eventually, I pulled myself together.

Church finished, my dearest friends and I went for a pier walk - another St Andrews tradition that no one can quite explain. Students are meant to walk to the end of the pier, then up the stairs to the highest point and walk back in their academic gowns. It’s quite a feat! We took silly photographs and prayed for our upcoming years. It’s quite a sight, especially since random tourists felt the need to capture our event on their Kodak’s and Canon’s as well. We lunched at a swanky, but student-priced, restaurant then I spent a quiet Sunday evening saying goodbye to more friends.

As you’ve probably noticed, saying goodbye has been an overwhelming theme these past few days. Hopefully I’ll get all my emotions out before I actually board the plane. Goodness knows I’m doing a great disservice to the British stiff upper-lip, disgracing myself all over the place! Coming to Scotland, I knew my time was temporary but it doesn’t make the departure any easier.

An' a' that!

Well, I finished. Development of the Novel wasn’t my best English course ever, but I’m confident that I at least passed the final. Thankfully, all I had to do this semester was pass my module. It may be by the skin of my teeth, but I did it! After my exam, I was introduced to a quaint St. Andrews’ tradition. Fourth year students, or seniors, are doused with buckets of water after their final exam. Just one of those wee quirks that make prestigious universities what they are. Brilliant!

Yesterday was spent in a sort of post-exam haze. I packed up my books, as usual; it’s such a nice way to bring closure to the academic part of the school year. Then, as I’m becoming quite accustomed, I hit the beach with my friends. It’s been about 70 degrees Fahrenheit in the day, which is amazingly warm for Scotland! Shorts and tee-shirts weather, totally. A good friend and I went to that posh-cinema in town to watch Robin Hood, which was fantastic, and then we went pier jumping.

Yes, I said pier jumping. St. Andrews pier is an icon of the city. What better way to celebrate the end of a semester than by taking a flying leap off a 10 foot pier into the waves of the North Sea? Exactly. I really enjoyed the experience, honestly! The water, blessedly, wasn’t as cold as May Dip but still chilly enough to be refreshing. I’ll probably go again before I head out!

Warm weather also brings in tourists by the bus loads. It’s so funny to watch my fellow Americans wander around, probably a bit how I looked my first week here, in total obliviousness. Granted, many tourists are here for the golf - but they are still prone to their own special type of quirks and oddities. Like, in almost every tour group there’s one guy who thinks he knows everything. “You know, Marge, when I was here in college…” and then the man will proceed to share some totally useless knowledge with the crowd, or voice his shock that the pub he went to in 1973 looks different now – that sort of thing. Even still, tourists are half of what keeps St. Andrews alive with students being the other half. We’re very grateful for anyone to come pump money into the economy. And, I’m afraid I just said that as if I were a local. O, dear!

One down, one to go.

One exam down, one to go and I’m feeling pretty good! Scottish Fiction didn’t pull any punches and I know I did my best on the essays. Development of the Novel, on the other hand, is an entirely different ball of wax. I need really focus on revising for this one. But, on Friday at noon (sounds like an Old Western, doesn’t it?) this semester will be officially over.

With each day, I’m one day closer to leaving Scotland, for the moment at least. Though I will be very glad to see my friends and family again, the thought of it all being over could break my heart. My ‘Highland Fling’, as I’ve affectionately dubbed my last week of traveling, will be a fantastic way to explore a wee bit more of the country before I go. It’s really been a priority of mine to see as much of Scotland as possible, and I still have years to come back and explore even more.

I’m sure the posts might get slightly melodramatic in tone during the next couple of weeks but, can you really blame me? Visiting the United Kingdom has been on my heart since middle school. Now that all my dreams are, honestly, coming true – I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. Like that really sappy angsty-teenager Kelly Clarkson song ‘Breakaway’ I listened to in my parent’s car, I finally did spread my wings and learn how to fly. I did it. I’m away. And, you know, the best lessons I’ve ever learned in life were taught when I have been hundreds, or even thousands, of miles away from home.

To quote someone far more impressive than Miss Clarkson, J. R. R. Tolkien said, “Not all who wander are lost.” In many ways, God has used my wandering spirit to bring me closer to His home. And that’s something to hang my hat on.