Vertical Limit, Scottish Edition

Every time I walked outside and saw Arthur’s Seat (see below) I knew I had to climb it as soon as possible. As I told one of my friends, who told me to stop being obnoxiously poetic, it was beckoning me. Trouble is that Scotland is a cold, wet and windy place, so I didn’t want to be on top of an 800 ft. mountain when a rain / wind / hail storm started. So I was waiting for the right opportunity. Saturday morning began much as many other Scottish mornings have – driving rain blowing across the golf links outside my window, but, sure enough, by noon things had cleared up. Some friends and I had talked of making the trek up to the top the other day, so the forces were rallied – myself, Cindy, Rachel, Jack, Anna, and Katie, and we decided to go for it. Before we went, we decided we should have some additional company, in the form of biscuits (UK “digestive” cookies which are really damn good, and filling too), and a bottle of “The Famous Grouse” (the name, the very regal looking grouse on the bottle, and saying “Id like to have a visit with the grouse” bring me joy), which is apparently “Scotland’s Favorite Whiskey.” So we were quite prepared. The mountain itself didn’t take long to reach, and although there seemed to be a number of paths leading towards the summit, we opted for the especially dramatic looking one that cut across a sheer rocky face in a rapid ascent to the top. It took us maybe 45 minutes walking up steep steps, and some rocky paths to reach the summit. Once we were there, and paused to have refreshments, we really noticed the wind. It was somewhat like Hurricane Isobel, except that there weren’t trees falling down and I was on top of a mountain in Scotland instead of cowering in my house. At times it was a little difficult to walk, and some of the girls said they were nearly blown over. I had a good time running face first into the blasting wind and feeling like I was about to take off or something (I would like that I suppose ;) ) From above, I was again struck by the architectural “feel” of Edinburgh – the old, weather beaten stone buildings alongside the somewhat grim modern / 60s era office towers and apartments give it a kind of harshness that is difficult to describe. Maybe the winter light contributes to that as well. You can see that it was by no means completely sunny, and as beautiful as it was to watch dark clouds begin to creep over the sun, we were already really cold and a rainstorm would not be a pleasant event to experience on Arthur’s Seat. The climb down was a little more difficult (see pictures), but there weren’t any real problems. I did miss having Nick Christie-Blick there pausing every few seconds to comment about the geology – Im sure he would have loved the place. We reached the bottom just as the rain started, and went and had a long late lunch at the Palmyra Kebob House, whose falafel, I contend, is far superior to Amir’s. The Indian and middle eastern food here seems to be better than it is at home in general, and there are far more Arabs and Africans in Edinburgh than I have noticed in New York. That reminds me – people in the UK seem to be generally much more pro-Palestinian than they are at Columbia (I guess considering that I am speaking of Columbia, that should come as no surprise), but I have certainly noticed it. Edinburgh University has a prominent pro Palestinian group, (Im not sure where the Jews are hangin out…) and the issue has come up a couple of times in places I would not have expected it to do so in the states. While its not a big deal, the different perspective from the one I am used to is interesting. That’s all for now…

I spent a significant portion of my last post talking about the weather, but Im not quite done with my insights about the Scottish climate. First of all, it turns out that palm trees are actually not that unusual in Scotland, especially on the coast, because of the wet atmosphere and warm water. I spotted one trying to hide behind a hedge on the south side of the city, but it couldn’t escape:

Also, one of the most striking things about the northerliness of Edinburgh is the fact that the sun stays quite noticeably low in the horizon – the light at noon looks like the night at 9AM in New York. I keep thinking its early in the day when its not, or late in the day when it isn’t – the sun just keeps hanging out at about 30 degrees above the horizon. Craziness. Enjoy the following picture of a typical Edinburgh type scene I took on a long walk around my neighborhood. During this walk, I discovered that the UK love affair with mayonnaise is something you really have to watch out for – I ordered a chicken salad sandwich at a pleasant little place on the south side of the city only to receive a roll filled with chicken chunks swimming in mayo. Mmm.

This is my flat! The orange building on the left:

Speaking of food, I have been on this pretty big Indian food kick here in Scotland. The Indian here is better, cheaper and more plentiful than it is back home, I’ll take curried veggies over chicken and mayonnaise any day. My Indian habit has been further justified by the fact that I am convinced that Indian food is the most tasty vegetarian food, and I have been trying to eat more healthily here than I do at Columbia. Throw in a little inspiration from “Interpreter of Maladies” and the fact that lentils and vegetables are quite cheap (maybe even more than spaghetti!), and you can see how this all began. I invested in a bunch of spices and this awesome cookbook:



And I am hoping to become a pretty good cook (especially Indian, but otherwise as well) by the end of the semester.
Hmm oh yeah – I had a really great time the other night after Chamber Choir rehearsal at a club called the “Liquid Rooms.” Fairly cheap drinks and lots of good dancing music (if my pop music knowledge was in good working order Id say what it was) – really enjoyed it. Im not sure how clubs are in New York, but this place was pretty snazzy – mostly college aged people, and everyone dancing like crazy while green lights flashed around and a dry ice machine pumped fog into the room. Good times – I hope I’ll have more to report after this weekend, which I plan to divide between reading about Wagner, orchestrating for Bach Society, and maybe doing something in the city during the day.

Windswept indeed!

My first week at “uni” has come to end, and I have realized that a lot has happened. What this means for my blog is that instead of the original plan to make big, sweeping posts every week, I will try to make smaller ones at a faster rate and hope for the best (shout out of thanks to experienced blogger and fellow American in Edinburgh Cindy for this suggestion – I was getting carried away!).

A word about the weather - Scotland is Halloween. Remember the ‘it was a dark and stormy night” line that opened up some story that used to scare you when you were a kid? Well that dark and stormy night happens a lot in Scotland (at least it did last week), complete with a big castle, driving rain, and literally howling wind. Living where I do way out in Warrender (the ex-elementary school, now dorm, where I live), it takes me a while to walk home from visiting people, and I have gotten quite a taste of the dramatic weather. It is easy to see why people like to hang out in the warm and friendly pub all night, especially in winter. I also battled it out with elements this weekend, when Cindy, Rachel and I decided to take a trip to visit the Firth of Forth Bridge (yes a bridge – but a really cool and weird looking bridge – check it out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forth_Bridge_(railway)).

My directions were no good, so we missed the bridge (I will get there eventually!) and found ourselves at a small coastal village named Cramond, which ended up being really cool. The island that you see below is only accessible at low tide when the long causeway leading out to it is exposed, and it is home to lots of rocks, birds, and some old WWII fortifications.

Apparently you have to careful going out there, because the tide can change in 15 minutes and leave you stranded in the freezing Firth of Forth! The freezing Firth of Forth! (its sounds cool enough to say twice). Anyways it was a beautiful spot and a good adventure – just as we got out to the island, it started raining, and by the time we left, the wind was driving rain into our faces and we were completely soaked. We eventually found our way to (where else!) the local pub, where some mushroom and leek soup made everything better. Later that evening, my flatmates had a post-christmas party, which was most enjoyable. My flatmate Courtney had recently returned from Finland, and so she brought back lots of tasty treats, including an excellent Finnish mulled cider called glugge (spelling?), which we mixed with questionable vodka which came from this unappealingly medicinal bottle:

My flatmate's friend Michael came to the party in his kilt, and I saw a number of kids here wearing kilts last Saturday night (in case you were wondering, as I was, if they really ever bust them out). Meanwhile, my classes are going well (Orchestration, Music History, Composition, and Seminar on Wagner) and I joined the Edinburgh University Chamber Choir, which is doing some excellent repertoire (Barber “Agnus Dei,” Messiaen “O Sacrum Convivium,” Kodaly “Missa Brevis” and a piece by Edinburgh graduate and kick ass composer James Macmillan, among other pieces) which I am very happy to be a part of. For you singers out there – they take the choral tradition very seriously over here in the UK, which I really like. There are lots of singers and lots of composers writing choral music. Well perhaps that’s all for now – perhaps I should close by saying that I was told by a British student here that it is “terribly American” when Americans fake a British accent to sound smart, and that they really don’t understand this phenomenon, or why British people are always the smart ones (or evil villains plotting iniquitous work!) on American TV.

PS - How does one make those snazzy links where some word is highlited and it leads to a link?

Arrival

So my first post is going to be brief because I am using the internet at a hotel (where we have orientation) that costs 5 pounds an hour (that’s $10 an hour thanks the marvelous exchange rate…) I feel as if I have been living in one super-sized Wednesday.The trip began when I got to Washington National, where I began reading Jhampa Lahiri’s “Interpreter of Maladies,” which was a suprisingly appropriate book to begin my travels with.It is a series of short stories about the lives of various Indians, often immigrants to the United States, or American born Indians staying the subcontinent, and the trials they face in their new environments.Their problems especially concern being away from friends and family, and missing people – things I certainly felt on my way across the ocean.That said, my first impressions of Edinburgh are wonderful – the first thing that struck me is how it resembles Seaside Village, the mock “town” where Jim Carry’s character resides in ‘The Truman Show.’Not that Edinburgh feels fake, but, like the town in the movie, it is small, neat, friendly, charming, and clean.Everyone has an endearing and friendly sounding accent, and the policeman all wear bright yellow vests like traffic workers. It also has definite ambience – an old castle sits on top of a craggy rocky outpost above the city, and the rambling cobbled streets with narrow alleys branching off and grey stone architecture make you feel the sense of the history of the place. The final thing I should mention is the “northern’ feel of the place – the old stately architecture and the vaguely austere surroundings, combined with the attention to cleanliness and respectability in the city itself, remind me vaguely of other northern cities I have visited like Portland and Montreal.These cities have the same general feeling as Edinburgh, but without the heavy atmosphere of history and the (so far) charming way that Scotland presents itself.A sign at the airport reads “Scotland – the best little country in the world,”and Edinburgh seems like a city that tries to emulate that sentiment.