sheep country
So got up early today and left at 9 for the Pentland Hills, about 30 minutes southwest of Edinburgh. I forgot my camera >_< Well, they are beautiful Scottish mountains, and you feel like Braveheart walking them... The weather was pretty cold, and the hills are very steep and muddy; and I wore my aging Newbalance -- the soles have become flat since I got them, which didn't make a very pleasant uphill experience. But the view is fantastic -- it was very spiritual when the fog rolled in, at 550m altitude, to see nothing but know you're on a mountain. Modern civilization is lost for those moments, and you soak in the past.
Amazingly that walk was about 15Km! I didn't know this until afterward, but I'm proud of myself. I've inadvertently been getting in good walking shape just from getting to class and American Express.
Then afterward, we headed to the town of New Lanark, which is about an hour out of Edinburgh, and closer to Glasgow on the whole. It's an old cotton mill which opened in 1785 and was run by Robert Owen, a philanthropist who thought it would be a good social experiment for communal living. This is more "stuff the Scots did before anyone else" kinds stuff -- modernizing labor, and whatnot. There are some beautiful waterfalls, and the Clyde river is wonderful -- the tourist trap is definitely (and advisably!) avoidable though. I got pushed into spending some of my last few quid on a ticket to go into the buildings, but for good reason -- see below.
--
All sounds rather meh, eh? Well, there was more excitement. While forging the path in the Pentlands, trying to get people to follow me, one of the cult of French girls (she ends up not being part of it, fortunately) makes pace with me (not sure whether this was intentional or simply because the path was narrow) and we end up walking together for the next 10 hours. That's the long story short, and the unsweetened version. You have been warned (though I'll hold back from painful detail as much as possible, this is for my records as much as your entertainment).
Her name is Anne, she's 22; she's studying landscape design (actively working on real projects in Edinburgh, and before in Italy and Frace); laid back and casual (as opposed to much of the French crown who have been rather... well, snooty). I had no trouble (perception is everything) with her English, which was actually rather good, and we ventured into my speaking some French (it has been over five years since the last time). She also had me teach her some ASL.
We hiked, chatted about landscape and architecture (very knowledgeable about history and geography as well), tea (she had tea *with* her, in a sealed thermos -- I was duly impressed; she doesn't drink alcohol); apparently she also sings and was eager for me to teach her some shantey choruses (we sang Bully in the Alley and Paddy Doyle's Boots, amongst others -- they sound very interesting with a French accent). She taught me an African tune. On the bus we listened to my iPod and she really likes The Avalanches and Doo Wop, apparently.
Well yeah, it was rather sweet. I fancy her.
She is out Salsa dancing tonight (I don't know how she could manage after today...), so now I need to think about "next time." ;)
--
I will probably see Eileen's friend, Mae, tonight. She goes here, last year in bio, and according to Eileen, a naturally blonde Greek goddess (something along those lines). I get some time to relax and digest, then we'll crawl into a pint in some pub around 22:00.
ta.
Amazingly that walk was about 15Km! I didn't know this until afterward, but I'm proud of myself. I've inadvertently been getting in good walking shape just from getting to class and American Express.
Then afterward, we headed to the town of New Lanark, which is about an hour out of Edinburgh, and closer to Glasgow on the whole. It's an old cotton mill which opened in 1785 and was run by Robert Owen, a philanthropist who thought it would be a good social experiment for communal living. This is more "stuff the Scots did before anyone else" kinds stuff -- modernizing labor, and whatnot. There are some beautiful waterfalls, and the Clyde river is wonderful -- the tourist trap is definitely (and advisably!) avoidable though. I got pushed into spending some of my last few quid on a ticket to go into the buildings, but for good reason -- see below.
--
All sounds rather meh, eh? Well, there was more excitement. While forging the path in the Pentlands, trying to get people to follow me, one of the cult of French girls (she ends up not being part of it, fortunately) makes pace with me (not sure whether this was intentional or simply because the path was narrow) and we end up walking together for the next 10 hours. That's the long story short, and the unsweetened version. You have been warned (though I'll hold back from painful detail as much as possible, this is for my records as much as your entertainment).
Her name is Anne, she's 22; she's studying landscape design (actively working on real projects in Edinburgh, and before in Italy and Frace); laid back and casual (as opposed to much of the French crown who have been rather... well, snooty). I had no trouble (perception is everything) with her English, which was actually rather good, and we ventured into my speaking some French (it has been over five years since the last time). She also had me teach her some ASL.
We hiked, chatted about landscape and architecture (very knowledgeable about history and geography as well), tea (she had tea *with* her, in a sealed thermos -- I was duly impressed; she doesn't drink alcohol); apparently she also sings and was eager for me to teach her some shantey choruses (we sang Bully in the Alley and Paddy Doyle's Boots, amongst others -- they sound very interesting with a French accent). She taught me an African tune. On the bus we listened to my iPod and she really likes The Avalanches and Doo Wop, apparently.
Well yeah, it was rather sweet. I fancy her.
She is out Salsa dancing tonight (I don't know how she could manage after today...), so now I need to think about "next time." ;)
--
I will probably see Eileen's friend, Mae, tonight. She goes here, last year in bio, and according to Eileen, a naturally blonde Greek goddess (something along those lines). I get some time to relax and digest, then we'll crawl into a pint in some pub around 22:00.
ta.
2 Comments:
Jono, Josh and I are sitting here in NC together. We just read your post, and here's what happened:
Me: >shriek!< Jono met a French girl! He fancies her!
Josh: That's awesome.
Me: >cackle!<
Josh: They should smootch.
Lovelovelove ya. -Tracy
You should read "The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner". Great story, really cool Scottish history (all about Calvinism, etc.), as well as an encounter with the devil on a foggy mountain overlooking Edinburgh.
French? Classy.
Post a Comment
<< Home