Lerwick is a great little city! One that I’m happy to be visiting for a second time. I walked to the hostel, and after waiting a few minutes, a girl called Calli joined me. We sat for awhile and had a wee chat. Calli is originally from Ft. Worth, Texas, but is currently studying in Germany. She had spring break and decided to come for a visit to Scotland. We decided to walk into town together explore a little bit. We ended up being out and about for what was probably a couple hours. I tried to get an “Ussie”, which is how I describe a selfie with more than one person, but Calli has turned out to be one of those people who doesn’t like to have her picture taken. For now, until she lets down her guard, you’re going to have to take my word that she really exists.
This place is so incredibly beautiful! Next we went to a local museum which taught us all about the history of these islands. Fun fact: Did you know that the only reason that Shetland is part of the U.K. is because someone was going to marry an English princess and the king and queen had no dowery, and so they said to the groom… here, have some islands.
Next, we walked over to check out Clickimin Broch, which is the remains of what they think may have been a smaller castle/settlement. It’s old enough that they don’t really know for sure what it was. It was so fascinating to walk around, and even crawl into one of the chambers.
22:24
Dinner was at the Queen Hotel. There’s not a whole lot of restaurants in this small city, but the male was some kind of stuffed chicken with buttery mash and vegetables. It was probably the best meal I’ve had thus far on my journey. Just incredible!
I’m sitting in the dining room of a northbound ferry. It has been seven years since my first (and only) time doing this. It’s time for Shetland!
A few days ago, my old friend Tia sent me a message telling me that her son is currently serving as a missionary in Aberdeen. When I told her that I would be in Aberdeen, she sent me his address so I could go see him… maybe check up on him? Actually, I know his parents and have no doubts that he is a great kid. I had the best idea: I was going to pretend to be interested in their message, and when they’d ask about my American accent, I was going to tell them I grew up in American but live in Scotland now. I had it all planned!
When they ask where I was from in America, I’d tell them that it was just a small town in southeastern Arizona that they’d never heard of. Hopefully, my video camera would record his reaction… I would draw on my Emmy-worthy acting skills and give them the performance of a lifetime. Sadly, when I knocked on their door, nobody answered. They weren’t home.
I decided to make this into one of my ‘<100 Steps’ posts. The rules are simple, you set out on your destination, and you have to snap a photo in 100 or fewer steps. That way, people can pretty much see what you saw without having to record a video the whole time. If I had a decent internet connection, I’d transfer all the videos and images and make one video, dubbing in music and everything. Unfortunately, all of my hostels have been not-so-good when it comes to an internet connection.
19:57
Tonight I have a shared four-person cabin. I will try to get some sleep, but I don’t know what will happen as I have at least two other roommates. They look like snorers to me.
This ferry has the world’s worst Wi-Fi. I am connected, but just barely. There will be no streaming of movies tonight. I texted my sister Melanie, and she told me that “at least you have Wi-Fi at all”- so very true. I imagine when the pioneers of old crossed the country, their Wi-Fi was also shite (and that, my dear reader, is Scottish for ‘poop’).
My hostel here in Aberdeen is creepy but beautiful. It’s an older brownstone building, and they have me all the way up on the fourth floor. They call it the third floor, however, because in the U.K., the ground floor is the bottom. So the first floor is the one you come to when you walk up the stairs, etc. Very nicely decorated. The creepy part is the fact that there are paintings with faces on the walls, and that is horrible.
I decided to do a walking tour from the pub (that is on the bottom floor of this place) up to my room. You’ll see why I’m creeped out, just a bit.
Tonight I bought tickets to go to the cinema, and was almost late for the film. This is due to the fact that I actually walked all the way to the wrong theatre. So I had to pretty much do a 25 minute walk in 15 minutes. I did it, barely. Too much Irn Bru in my gullet. I need to start my 2019 diet early, I think. I did miss a trailer or two, however. For me, that’s a big deal because I need to find out what movies are coming out. I pretty much plan my existence around movie time.
I don’t have a whole lot to report on for today. Since it’s Sunday, I found a church to attend here in Glasgow. The last time I was here, I took a very long walk to see the church, but the address that I found on the internet was wrong- I never did find it. The address has been updated since I was here last time. I got an Uber to church but decided to walk home.
I would have taken pictures on my walk, but I needed to save my battery. My phone didn’t correctly charge last night, and I wanted to save what little battery life I had, just in case.
Ayr was even sunnier and more beautiful than it was yesterday morning. It would have been a perfect morning to go back out to the beach, but since I’m on a train, headed to my next stop, it’ll have to wait for another visit to this fine country.
When I checked out of the hotel, the desk clerk told me how much I owed the room. I told her I had prepaid on the internet. She had to go through a bunch of notes before finding out that I wasn’t lying. In the meantime, I told her I could pull up a copy of my receipt if it was necessary. She figured it all out, and I was free to go without paying her tons of money.
Glasgow, Scotland | 21:21
Just like every other time, Glasgow does not disappoint. Such a cool city! I spent the afternoon walking around and getting reacquainted with the area.
For dinner, I found this very authentic American restaurant. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it: T.G.I. Friday’s. I had a crispy duck salad. It was delish, even if they put too much dressing on it. People drown their salad in the dressing! I’ve never understood that. Some of us actually like the taste of vegetables.
Since I’m finally back in town, I was able to go pick up my recently framed picture of Victoria’s Street that I bought while I was in Edinburgh last year (see post). The guy who did it is a man by the name of Jason Potter (the only reason I’m posting his full name is because I think he did such a great job- that maybe some of my neighbors and friends may use his services in the future). He not only makes frames with his art business, Silverstar Art, but he is a police officer for the city of Tooele. This is one reason that I knew I wouldn’t’ be cheated- he more or less has his reputation on the line as a cop. It ended up costing me $84. I gave him $85 since I didn’t have any smaller bills, and before he could find change I told him to just deduct it from my bail, in case he ever books me in jail. I didn’t know I could prepay for future bail.
“Turning Right On Victoria Street, Edinburgh”
The photographer’s name is Josh Vogelsang. I think he has some breathtaking prints- definitely worth checking out his site: https://www.joshvogelsang.co.uk/. I hope to get more of his work in the future. Perhaps I’ll run into him again on High Street in Edinburgh- you never know. I noticed that his site has some limited edition, signed prints available.
I think that the workers at Holyrood Palace are upset with me. I don’t think the Queen is going to invite me over to tea after today, not anytime soon. I have a story to share today- I’m going to start out by saying that today was excellent!
Months ago I was looking at my family tree. I was cruising up one of the lines on my mom’s side of the family, and all of a sudden I found ties to royalty! This was very exciting- I think it’s high time that all of my friends started treating me as royalty. I found that I am a descendant of James II of Scotland, that is if my family pedigree chart is accurate. I’ve blogged about this once in the past.
Before this trip to Scotland began, I looked up some information about James II and found out that he was buried at the Abbey at Holyrood Palace. This is great news because I also found out that touring the Abbey was included in the admission price. I was planning on coming to Edinburgh anyway- so I set a goal to find James II’s burial plot.
When I was in Edinburgh last month, I went to the palace and asked one of the workers if she knew where he had been buried. She said she didn’t, but went to speak with one of her supervisors. The supervisor said that the grave had been desecrated in one of the wars. He told me that some of the grave had been preserved, however. He said that if I purchased the entry fee, he would show me where it was. I thought this was very kind of him, but at the time I had gone over on my vacation spending budget, so I told him I’d have to think about it.
Fast forward to yesterday. Since I’m now back in Edinburgh and had kept to my budget so well over the past few weeks, I had enough to buy the ticket and explore the palace grounds. When I was about to pay the entry fee, I asked the same question and if someone could take me to where James II was originally buried. She left to go get another supervisor. She came back with directions to his burial place but said I may or may not be able to get an escort on the inside.
I told the supervisor that I understood. I’m sure the workers had plenty that they needed to be doing. I took note of the directions and paid the entry fee. The tour starts in the courtyard and then from there it leads you into the palace. You get to see so much artwork on the walls and the most awesome part about all this is the fact that this is still a royal residence. This is where Queen Elizabeth stays when she comes to Scotland.
After the palace tour, you walk over to the Abbey. I was so excited! The Abbey is, of course, in ruins but they are trying to preserve what remains. Following the instructions, I walked to the far-right, back corner to find the place where James II had been buried. I looked around and was able to find mention of his queen wife, but nothing about the King himself. I looked around some more. So many of the old markers had been worn out from so much exposure to the elements and I thought that maybe one of those worn out ones might be his.
I started to look for one of the workers to see if he/she would know which marker was the right one. I found one employee who didn’t appear to be busy and asked him if he could point me in the right direction. He replied with a very smug tone, “Oh, you must be that American boy looking for James II.” I didn’t know what to say, but I smiled as politely as I could and told him I was. Then he says (and I’m not even joking), “Yes, I know where he is buried, but I can’t tell you.”
Now, wait a minute! Before I’d paid the money to get onto the grounds, everyone had been so kind and sounded so willing to help. Now that I was in here, I had this [pick a swear word], smug, [choose another swear word, any word will do] talking down to me, what a [pick one more swear word and add the suffix ‘tard’ to the end of it]. I didn’t really have an attitude with him but these are the thoughts that were going through my head. What’s wrong with talking to me like I’m a person? I replied, “Oh don’t worry- I’ll find it myself. Sorry to trouble you!” and headed back over to the abbey. It’s not like I wanted to steal the King’s remains, for heaven’s sake!
More looking, but I found nothing. Just the marker for James’ wife’s burial place (who was actually buried somewhere else, but later exhumed and moved to this abbey). I decided I’d finish my tour and be done with it. As I walked through the gardens, this was sort of weighing on my conscience. I was upset and frustrated but there wasn’t anything I could do. I’ll just get over it, I thought.
I noticed that they were doing some excavation work on one of the garden lawns. They had discovered that there were once more buildings, just east of the abbey. That was cool- it looked like something out of an Indiana Jones movie, or Jurassic Park, or something like that. I took a couple pictures and moved on.
Finally, I reached the end of the tour and was getting ready to turn in my audio guide and told the last worker of my frustration. First, she said to me, “Oh, you’re the American looking for James II?” but she didn’t say it condescending at all, unlike her coworker had. I laughed and told her that was me. She asked me if I found the site. I told her I hadn’t yet, and so she told me to go back and look at that excavation site. The far northeast corner is where James II had been originally buried.
Yes, the site had been desecrated and the body had been exhumed but they somehow managed to get parts of the body back and they were reburied in that same area! So- I had found the spot! Now I’m grinning, and I ask her if I could hug her. She laughed and hugged me.
I walked back into the garden to find the place where James had been buried. I got to the area of the excavation and stood silent for a moment, lost in thought. I knelt down on the grass to just sit and listen. Then after awhile, I said, “Hey James! I just wanted to say hello. I hope you’re doing well!” Luckily nobody was around to witness this. I sat for another moment, then stood up while wiping the tears from my eyes. I turned around and made my way off of the palace grounds.
On High Street, across from St. Giles’ Cathedral sits a man who makes his living by selling pictures that he’s taken. When I was here a few weeks back, I glanced at some of his work and was really impressed. I told him that I didn’t have any cash on me and said I’d think about coming back to buy one in the future. A few days later, I’d left Edinburgh, having forgotten all about this interaction. This morning I randomly thought about the guy and decided I did, indeed want to buy one of his pictures. This was the one I’d seen of Victoria’s Street, a road that winds down from next to High Street, to Grassmarket.
I made my way up the street a few minutes ago and saw the same guy selling his pictures in the same spot. I approached him to say hello and look through his photos again. I reminded him of who I was and that we’d met a few weeks back. He didn’t seem to have any recollection of me. He told me that people often say that same thing that I did, or that they’ll have to think about the purchase and come back later. They’re really not interested, but they don’t want to hurt his feelings.
I told him that I wasn’t one of “those people” and the only reason I’d walked up the hill was to buy his picture of Victoria’s Street. He smiled and thanked me. When I was looking through his pictures, I saw the one I was interested in but kept looking. Underneath a few others was a different picture of Victoria’s Street- and this one I actually liked better than the first one. Score!
He actually had a bunch of other pictures that I really liked. Someday I may come back and buy another from him. I hope his business keeps so he’s here when I come back to Edinburgh in the future. I will drop my new picture in the post before I leave in a couple days. I can’t wait to hang it on the wall at home. I think I’ll have a nice frame made for it.
Today was filled with French undertones. What does that mean? I decided to go see a matinee of the movie Bastille Day, which takes place in Paris. It was a great flik! Lots of action! Here’s the trailer:
My dinner was at a nearby French restaurant. By “nearby”, I mean it’s literally across the street and about 4 doors down. I wanted a change of menu because it seems like all these restaurants are serving the exact same thing. I wasn’t in the mood for Chinese food or a curry, and after last night’s pizza, I thought I needed something a little more balanced. So- French it is!
The food was good, but here is my complaints: First of all, it was expensive, even for British standards. If you’re going to charge me that much, you need to possibly put more food on the plate? I guess that’s not the way they do it in France though. I ordered some kind of cheese soufflé for a starter, the main course was some kind of pork dish, and some crème brûlée for dessert.
My other complaint (I’ve complained about this before) is that I HATE it when restaurants add the gratuity automatically. That is the most annoying thing about eating out! There’s reason it’s called gratuity… it’s ME SHOWING THAT I WANT TO SAY “YOU DID A GOOD JOB” BY GIVING MY SERVER MORE MONEY at the end of the meal. Don’t assume you deserve more money for yourself. The good news is that I would have actually tipped more than they added to the bill. But instead of having them change it, I just went with the 10% they added. Their loss. This was surprising, especially since tipping is not as common as it is in the states.
Tonight I’m staying in. I had my heart set on going to find some karaoke or some kind of dance club but I’m currently without pants. Haha! So- I needed to wash some of my shirts and pants, and I dropped them off at a place that does a laundry service, not thinking. I don’t think it’s too cold to be in shorts outside tonight, but I don’t want to be “that guy who showed up to the club in his shorts”. The struggle is real, people!
I think I’m just going to chill here in the flat. Maybe I’ll even go to bed early, which I haven’t really done since I got back to the city. They say that rest is a good thing, perhaps I’ll try it out and let you know.
Tonight I needed to walk up The Royal Mile again. This city haunts me- it’s incredible! The more I learn about it, the more I want to learn. I’m already missing this place, even though I haven’t left yet. I just couldn’t stay inside. I had to walk around and take some more pictures of these buildings at night.
DavTravels 