I'm back in Glasgow, and hoo doggie was the last week fun. But seeing as so much has happened, and I haven't mentioned my stay in Glasgow, I certainly will not write everything out at the moment. Let's rewind.
Glasgow will certainly be a great place to spend a semester. While yes, I enjoy Edinburgh quite a lot, it's probably a better place to visit rather than live (although studying there would be fantastic). Glasgow has a much different feel, being a larger city and all. Glasgow is a much hipper place than Edinburgh, with plenty of night-life and a trendy attitude. Unlike Edinburgh, its far from touristy (There aren't too many cashmere places here). Even though its not as pretty as Edinburgh, it has some great architecture, mixing Victorian with modern. The city centre can be a little too mainstream with its abundance of department stores (I think I saw about three H&M's), but the west end (where I am) has a great vibe with plenty to offer.
The university here is large, but all centered in one area (once again, the west end). As some people in my group has said, the main building/tower is pretty much hogwarts. On my walk to campus is the wonderful Kelvingrove Museum, displaying art, science-y stuff, and artifacts. It's quite a lovely building too (at night they have cool colors shining on it). I've spend many hours there, mostly in the art sections. They had an exhibition on the Glasgow Boys (a group of artists who worked together around 1880-90s). Its interesting to see how they all started out in the same style, but by the 1890s they branched off into unique styles. I also went to the modern art gallery downtown... meh. (I should say city centre instead of downtown, bloody Scottish are trying to make all American colloquialisms sexual innuendos).
Being a theatre guy, our Professor leader guy treated us to a fantastic play. Its called "Beautiful Burnout," and it's about boxing. Yup. Boxing. At first I didn't care much for it, but the ending was amazing. At a technical stand-point, this play is unlike any I've seen. The choreography was spot on, and the stage (a boxing ring like platform in the middle of the audience) had a circle in it that rotated. This allowed for cinematic-like freeze shots where the boxers clashed, became motionless, and rotated. Then one of them would move in a subconscious of sorts while the other stayed still. They used this in other ways, but they didn't over do it.
With that out of the way, now I can proceed to this last week up north! Ah, maybe tomorrow. Yea, I'll get to that tomorrow.
Saturday, 18 September 2010
Friday, 10 September 2010
Temporary message
Sorry I haven't been letting you guys know how Glasgow is. Let's just say I've been enjoying the night-life a bit too much. I'll be without internet access for a week or so, but expect more stories about the highlands (and the Isle of Skye) when I get back.
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Ben Nevis
Photos of Edinburgh, Loch Ness, and Ben Nevis are here: http://highlandswingphotos.shutterfly.com/
the password is: edinburgh
My camera has a blemish on it. Just ignore that.
The bus ride to Fort William brought me to mountain territory thankfully. Not really the pleasant looking hills, but the rather craggy ones with a goodly slope. Fort William is certainly smaller, but not quite the remote town, as it is touristy as well (I'll have to wait till Glenelg for that!) But the hiking was certainly there, which made me happy. It was a perfectly clear day when I arrived, which tempted me to climb Ben Nevis that evening (good thing I didn't). Instead I did a pleasant circuit called Cow Hill. Going though a bit of glen and trees, I came upon a mountain meadow (queue the lone female voice eerily singing in Scots Gaelic). The beauty and solitude of this meadow was painful (I hadn't seen nothing yet though!) I frolicked around a bit off track with some sheep eying me nervously. In the distance a loch could be seen tucked between mountains, and this one cliff had a stream flowing in the center of its face. In the other direction I saw the back side of Ben Nevis and the trail leading to it. It looked intense! Looked like fun!
Ben Nevis is the highest mountain in Britain (or a munro (and when you hike a munro it's called bagging a munro!)) Well, its only around 4,400 ft, not even half of mt. Hood. But considering it starts around sea level and juts almost straight up, it made for a pretty intense climb. I must admit, I was quite arrogant about it. I figured a big breakfast and a bottle of water would be enough for me. However, with two days of hiking behind me, my legs were already hating me. Also, the water certainly wasn't enough. Luckily, high up on the face of Ben Nevis was an amazing mountain creek that poured cold clear water. Mighty refreshing indeed! Don't fret, no animals get this high, other than panting Englishmen and fit German tourists (they were panting too, everyone was).
It's a pretty popular trail, but you can tell a good amount of people turn back before the top. One of the reasons why there were so many hikers that day was due to the clear weather. Seriously, I've been lucky here! It hasn't rained in Scotland since I've been here, which is especially rare on Ben Nevis. The peak of Ben Nevis is the rainiest part of Britain, and is cloudy for 355 days a year! However, it was a little hazy, so it wasn't the best picture weather.
On the way down my legs were shaking with every step, and the top is pretty much gravel, causing some balance issues. I had two bottles of water by the top, but was still dehydrated. So I went decided to not spent much time at top and go back to the stream (it was prettier in the lower part anyways, giving a nice vantage point of the valley). By the time I arrived there, I wasn't feeling the greatest. But the cold water combined with a banana a Scotsman offered (once again, they really are too kind and knowing), I felt rejuvenated to make it down. I even went back to town through that lovely meadow from the day before. Then I showered, ate haggis, and had a whisky.
This morning, I left for Glasgow. Le sigh, no more traveling by myself. Oddly enough, one of the highlights so far was the bus ride today. Not far south from Fort William is the valley of Glencoe. Man I wish I explored around here! (Oh I will though!) I'm not even exaggerating, this valley was the most spectacular and dramatic landscape I had ever seen! I didn't take photos because it's weird to take them on a moving bus. Besides, I don't even think photography could even capture this place (try google imaging it anyways). But lord! Green walls of mountains on both sides of this huge valley. The area afterwords was unworldly as well. Little hills with random rocks jutting out. Bah, I'm not ready to go back to city life!
Overall, I'm glad I did this first leg of my Scotland experience on my own. I haven't seen the others yet, but I'm sure they're glassy eyed here in Glasgow (which sadly isn't as neat as Edinburgh, but will still be nice to study in (I haven't explored it that much yet, but the Canadian guy from the last hostel who appeared on the bus as well said it reminded him of Montreal(that was a wordy sentence (I use parentheses a lot, don't I?)))). Anyways, I feel a little more wizened as to what regions to go to, and considering we're going to the Isle of Skye next week, I'm sure there will be plenty of pretty sights ahead.
the password is: edinburgh
My camera has a blemish on it. Just ignore that.
The bus ride to Fort William brought me to mountain territory thankfully. Not really the pleasant looking hills, but the rather craggy ones with a goodly slope. Fort William is certainly smaller, but not quite the remote town, as it is touristy as well (I'll have to wait till Glenelg for that!) But the hiking was certainly there, which made me happy. It was a perfectly clear day when I arrived, which tempted me to climb Ben Nevis that evening (good thing I didn't). Instead I did a pleasant circuit called Cow Hill. Going though a bit of glen and trees, I came upon a mountain meadow (queue the lone female voice eerily singing in Scots Gaelic). The beauty and solitude of this meadow was painful (I hadn't seen nothing yet though!) I frolicked around a bit off track with some sheep eying me nervously. In the distance a loch could be seen tucked between mountains, and this one cliff had a stream flowing in the center of its face. In the other direction I saw the back side of Ben Nevis and the trail leading to it. It looked intense! Looked like fun!
Ben Nevis is the highest mountain in Britain (or a munro (and when you hike a munro it's called bagging a munro!)) Well, its only around 4,400 ft, not even half of mt. Hood. But considering it starts around sea level and juts almost straight up, it made for a pretty intense climb. I must admit, I was quite arrogant about it. I figured a big breakfast and a bottle of water would be enough for me. However, with two days of hiking behind me, my legs were already hating me. Also, the water certainly wasn't enough. Luckily, high up on the face of Ben Nevis was an amazing mountain creek that poured cold clear water. Mighty refreshing indeed! Don't fret, no animals get this high, other than panting Englishmen and fit German tourists (they were panting too, everyone was).
It's a pretty popular trail, but you can tell a good amount of people turn back before the top. One of the reasons why there were so many hikers that day was due to the clear weather. Seriously, I've been lucky here! It hasn't rained in Scotland since I've been here, which is especially rare on Ben Nevis. The peak of Ben Nevis is the rainiest part of Britain, and is cloudy for 355 days a year! However, it was a little hazy, so it wasn't the best picture weather.
On the way down my legs were shaking with every step, and the top is pretty much gravel, causing some balance issues. I had two bottles of water by the top, but was still dehydrated. So I went decided to not spent much time at top and go back to the stream (it was prettier in the lower part anyways, giving a nice vantage point of the valley). By the time I arrived there, I wasn't feeling the greatest. But the cold water combined with a banana a Scotsman offered (once again, they really are too kind and knowing), I felt rejuvenated to make it down. I even went back to town through that lovely meadow from the day before. Then I showered, ate haggis, and had a whisky.
This morning, I left for Glasgow. Le sigh, no more traveling by myself. Oddly enough, one of the highlights so far was the bus ride today. Not far south from Fort William is the valley of Glencoe. Man I wish I explored around here! (Oh I will though!) I'm not even exaggerating, this valley was the most spectacular and dramatic landscape I had ever seen! I didn't take photos because it's weird to take them on a moving bus. Besides, I don't even think photography could even capture this place (try google imaging it anyways). But lord! Green walls of mountains on both sides of this huge valley. The area afterwords was unworldly as well. Little hills with random rocks jutting out. Bah, I'm not ready to go back to city life!
Overall, I'm glad I did this first leg of my Scotland experience on my own. I haven't seen the others yet, but I'm sure they're glassy eyed here in Glasgow (which sadly isn't as neat as Edinburgh, but will still be nice to study in (I haven't explored it that much yet, but the Canadian guy from the last hostel who appeared on the bus as well said it reminded him of Montreal(that was a wordy sentence (I use parentheses a lot, don't I?)))). Anyways, I feel a little more wizened as to what regions to go to, and considering we're going to the Isle of Skye next week, I'm sure there will be plenty of pretty sights ahead.
Friday, 3 September 2010
Inverness, and the sad lack of Nessie
Sorry I haven’t been writing in this, but the hostel in Inverness required payment, and the one I’m in now at Fort William doesn’t even have internet access (I could only find it in this busy bar I’m at now). Anyways, I’ll tell you about Inverness for now.
I strolled around Edinburgh before leaving. Tis sad really, I was starting to get attached to this city. I lugged the semester’s worth of stuff on my shoulders and walked to the rather nice train station and bought a ticket to Inverness. At first it took me along the coast. There were many Scottish thistle (the national flower) along the way. They’re quite pretty, being all purple in color. A lot of plants around here are purple in color. After the coast, the train went through an area that reminded me of Oregon. Then it took me to a landscape that I imagined Scotland would be like. Tree-less hills of green and brown. Green and dark purplish actually. The purple flowers look brown at a distance, but with closer inspection the hills were a mesh of green and dark purple. I wanted to jump out of the train and sprint up them to look at an expanse of barren hills stretching for miles. I was excited to hike!
Unfortunately, Inverness wasn’t quite like that. Actually, I talked to a Scottish gent in my Fort William room and he agrees that Inverness is kind of a tourist trap with not all that much to offer. Don’t get me wrong, it is actually quite pretty, but it’s the type I’ve come to expect in the Pacific Northwest. That is, it was heavily forested with all sorts of trees and flowers, which isn’t anything to complain about. It’s just that, I lusted for those tree-less hills! Also, its more of a central hub for if you have a car, which I did not. So that evening I just did the touristy things of castle and cathedral viewing, and walking around town. It had a neat little indoor market.
I saved loch Ness for the next day. I figured I’d take a bus there then walk back along the river Ness. The loch was quite pretty, but once again a tourist trap considering there are prettier lochs (as I saw on the bus down to Fort William). The loch is very, very long, with hills along the side. Looking down it, the overcast sky looked like it parted the earth as it reflected in the water. I wandered around the shore a bit, and hitched a lift back (hitching a ride would be a sexual connotation). I had heard it is easy to hitch-hike in Scotland, and surely enough the first car picked me up. It was an adorably kind old couple that were wondering where I was from (ah, that’s lumberjack country, huh?) Really though, the people here are only making this trip so much more enjoyable. They’re such a laid back, kind people!
Before heading along the river, I visited this Nessie watcher who’s lived in a shack for 17 years, hoping to see the beast. He makes little waxed Nessies. As for me, I haven’t seen Sasquatch yet, so no luck here either. Also, there was a nice bar at the lochend, with a sitting area outside. So I looked for Nessie while sipping a whisky (the Antiquary, 12 year old blended, an extremely smooth and almost refreshing whisky!) and then a half pint of a real ale (what they call microbrews, in which they pump on a lever to get it right out of the cask). With that, I started to hike tipsy.
I walked along an old trail (which even the locals called it old) that wasn’t necessarily consistent. That is, it broke off sometimes. But I didn’t mind, I just wanted to wander in the woods, so I did! I found an old stone wall in the middle of the forest, and I had to resort to going through some brush. It was fun! As long as I stayed by the river, I was fine. I even saw some Scottish cows. They're kind of cute... but dangerous from what I hear.
Eventually I made it back to Inverness, and went to a place that played Scottish music. There, as I waited for the music to start, I was reading. A Scottish girl and her boyfriend wondered what I was reading (Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami). Well, that led to a discussion of literature with them, the guy’s sister, and a couple of Germans. Oh, there names were Rachel (the girlfriend), Johnnie, and Mary. The Germans I don’t remember because they went elsewhere. We talked about Russian lit, Shakespeare, politics, philosophy, etc. Johnnie even wanted to know if I wrote, and he was interested in my story ideas. They even offered to pay for my rounds in Scottish tradition (I declined the first time, must be some pride complex we Americans have). Anyways, what I’m getting at is I think I could be best friends with them if circumstance allowed it. Really, I took a mighty liking to them. But alas, they went to the University of Edinburgh, whereas I’ll be in Glasgow.
Anyways, Inverness was fun, but I decided to go down to Fort William which is a good hiking location. I’ll talk about that tomorrow.
I strolled around Edinburgh before leaving. Tis sad really, I was starting to get attached to this city. I lugged the semester’s worth of stuff on my shoulders and walked to the rather nice train station and bought a ticket to Inverness. At first it took me along the coast. There were many Scottish thistle (the national flower) along the way. They’re quite pretty, being all purple in color. A lot of plants around here are purple in color. After the coast, the train went through an area that reminded me of Oregon. Then it took me to a landscape that I imagined Scotland would be like. Tree-less hills of green and brown. Green and dark purplish actually. The purple flowers look brown at a distance, but with closer inspection the hills were a mesh of green and dark purple. I wanted to jump out of the train and sprint up them to look at an expanse of barren hills stretching for miles. I was excited to hike!
Unfortunately, Inverness wasn’t quite like that. Actually, I talked to a Scottish gent in my Fort William room and he agrees that Inverness is kind of a tourist trap with not all that much to offer. Don’t get me wrong, it is actually quite pretty, but it’s the type I’ve come to expect in the Pacific Northwest. That is, it was heavily forested with all sorts of trees and flowers, which isn’t anything to complain about. It’s just that, I lusted for those tree-less hills! Also, its more of a central hub for if you have a car, which I did not. So that evening I just did the touristy things of castle and cathedral viewing, and walking around town. It had a neat little indoor market.
I saved loch Ness for the next day. I figured I’d take a bus there then walk back along the river Ness. The loch was quite pretty, but once again a tourist trap considering there are prettier lochs (as I saw on the bus down to Fort William). The loch is very, very long, with hills along the side. Looking down it, the overcast sky looked like it parted the earth as it reflected in the water. I wandered around the shore a bit, and hitched a lift back (hitching a ride would be a sexual connotation). I had heard it is easy to hitch-hike in Scotland, and surely enough the first car picked me up. It was an adorably kind old couple that were wondering where I was from (ah, that’s lumberjack country, huh?) Really though, the people here are only making this trip so much more enjoyable. They’re such a laid back, kind people!
Before heading along the river, I visited this Nessie watcher who’s lived in a shack for 17 years, hoping to see the beast. He makes little waxed Nessies. As for me, I haven’t seen Sasquatch yet, so no luck here either. Also, there was a nice bar at the lochend, with a sitting area outside. So I looked for Nessie while sipping a whisky (the Antiquary, 12 year old blended, an extremely smooth and almost refreshing whisky!) and then a half pint of a real ale (what they call microbrews, in which they pump on a lever to get it right out of the cask). With that, I started to hike tipsy.
I walked along an old trail (which even the locals called it old) that wasn’t necessarily consistent. That is, it broke off sometimes. But I didn’t mind, I just wanted to wander in the woods, so I did! I found an old stone wall in the middle of the forest, and I had to resort to going through some brush. It was fun! As long as I stayed by the river, I was fine. I even saw some Scottish cows. They're kind of cute... but dangerous from what I hear.
Eventually I made it back to Inverness, and went to a place that played Scottish music. There, as I waited for the music to start, I was reading. A Scottish girl and her boyfriend wondered what I was reading (Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami). Well, that led to a discussion of literature with them, the guy’s sister, and a couple of Germans. Oh, there names were Rachel (the girlfriend), Johnnie, and Mary. The Germans I don’t remember because they went elsewhere. We talked about Russian lit, Shakespeare, politics, philosophy, etc. Johnnie even wanted to know if I wrote, and he was interested in my story ideas. They even offered to pay for my rounds in Scottish tradition (I declined the first time, must be some pride complex we Americans have). Anyways, what I’m getting at is I think I could be best friends with them if circumstance allowed it. Really, I took a mighty liking to them. But alas, they went to the University of Edinburgh, whereas I’ll be in Glasgow.
Anyways, Inverness was fun, but I decided to go down to Fort William which is a good hiking location. I’ll talk about that tomorrow.
Monday, 30 August 2010
Fringey-ness Part Purple
Yester-morn I went to another art gallery, this time a modern art one. Those of you who know me somewhat probably know that I don't care much for most modern art. Not all, there's some that I really enjoy and would like to own, maybe in order to scare small children (why is modern art always so dark and morbid?) Well, if it isn't dark, then usually its quite derivative. I know a series of four white canvas's are suppose to convey purity and simplicity, but its not going to catch the average viewers attention or move them. No, no, it just comes off as pretentious and not worth while. Well, rant aside, you should know that I did enjoy viewing the artwork there, I just didn't spend a couple hours like I did at the other, more masterfully artistic gallery.
Afterwards I went to a show called "Penelope," and it is certainly the best show I've seen here (I did research this time to find one of the better shows in town). It's an Irish play about four suitors of Penelope set in modern times. Penelope is Greek myth is the wife of Odysseus who waits for him to return home after many years while many suitors compete for her. These four are the last ones left, but they all had the same dream of Penelope's husband returning and brutally maiming them (as the myth goes). The four may (or may not) join forces in the effort to have one of them win in order to not die. But they all love her, and they start to feel the pain of all the years wasted trying to woo her. The play knew when to be funny when it wanted to, but also to be sincerely heart-rending with some damn good writing. So good, I bought the script and am reading through it. The playwright (Enda Walsh) is apparently on the rise. This is what the Irish lady sitting next to me was telling me about. I think she knew him or something, I don't quite remember what she said. Had a good conversation with her. Anyways, she told me that the writing in the play is brilliant not just for the dialogue, but the stage direction as well. She's quite right, the playwright knew exactly what he wanted at all times, and goes into great detail in the direction (which playwrights don't often do). Everything was so pin-pointed and strongly directed that it felt like every movement had a great significance.
That night I went out to an open session with an American couple and a Swiss pair (brother and sister) I met at the hostel. An open session is when there's music playing in a pub, but not for professional reasons. Usually there with be a leader or sorts, this time an older gent on the fiddle who brought a stand-up bass with him. The "designated" musicians typically bring instruments, but they'll give up their spot for a stranger to play (I believe the only expectation is that you know what you're doing). Now I know what you're thinking--this isn't a bunch of hippies getting together to strum like at Lewis & Clark, these guys are good and very adaptable! (not that you're not good Zach, but some guitars and bongos aren't as complex as some fiddles, flutes, bass, etc.) For the most part they played traditional folk music, but they played some American folk as well (this one Australian joined in to sing something about Tennessee whiskey with his buddy back-up vocalizing). Anyways, you have this table of random musicians in a tiny (and I mean tiny) corner pub stuffed with people, just grab some beer and whisky, and you'll easily start to feel in good company.
Today was the last day of the fringe, and after seeing the wonderful "Penelope," I opted for something less dramatic. This was "Next!" Basically it was a very small, intimate show about this woman directly talking to the audience about her experiences being rejected in the acting world. She's one of those actresses that only gets small, forgettable parts on the 'tele' or film and must go through the the harsh process of auditioning every day. Her stories are quite funny in a sad way, because haven't we all been there, not amounting to what we've hoped for but continue to strive on?
Other than that, I just kind of wondered around today and sat in a whisky bar. I went to this rather swanky (in appearance) place that had a huge selection of Scotch whiskies. It was a store/restaurant/bar. There I saw a 50 year bottle for only 7500 pounds! Anyways, I sat at the bar and started to talk to the bar-tender about whisky, and he was quite the guru. Well, I imagine all Scotsman are Whisky wise men or sages. I tasted about three whiskies for only around 10 pounds! This is good stuff mind you, in the states it would be 7 bucks for one (and I'm talking Bourbon here, not imported stuff. And Johnnie Walker isn't this quality either!) It's much more accessible to taste whisky here, they sell little bottles as well! So I was tasting while he taught me about the types, what peated is, regions and so on. I enjoyed all three, but the Edradour (one of the smaller distilleries in Scotland actually) was my favorite, but the Belhavie was good as well. I finished off with the heavily peated one (I forget the name). The more peated the smokier the taste. This Whisky was like liquid bonfire. I enjoyed it a lot actually, but I would prefer it not to be so forest fiery. Anyways, more useless facts. Scotch whisky is usually marketed after 10 years (if it doesn't say the age, then it's less), and the sage told me it definitely makes a difference in taste for the older, expensive whiskies (but he admits that for the price it may not be worth it, but it's a once in a lifetime thing you must do if you like whisky, and it is amazing (he told me about nirvana being acheived after tasting a 60+ year old one (just kidding, but he is quite wisened). Anyways, expect me to come back a whisky snob.
Overall, I'm very glad I left early for the fringe. Edinburgh is a wonderful, beautiful city, but I'm just about ready to see the Scotland everyone thinks off -- the country side. I've had some good conversations, some of them with Scottish people, but for the most part it was with various types of peoples. Germans, Swiss, Aussies, and so on. It's just too touristy to really get the sense of Scotland. That's why this morning, trying to figure out what to do with the next couple days, I've decided to head up north for three nights in Inverness, the curtural capital of the highlands. It will still be touristy I'm sure, but it will be a great change of pace from the fringe. It'll be a four hour train ride through the mountains, which will certainly be magnificient.
Afterwards I went to a show called "Penelope," and it is certainly the best show I've seen here (I did research this time to find one of the better shows in town). It's an Irish play about four suitors of Penelope set in modern times. Penelope is Greek myth is the wife of Odysseus who waits for him to return home after many years while many suitors compete for her. These four are the last ones left, but they all had the same dream of Penelope's husband returning and brutally maiming them (as the myth goes). The four may (or may not) join forces in the effort to have one of them win in order to not die. But they all love her, and they start to feel the pain of all the years wasted trying to woo her. The play knew when to be funny when it wanted to, but also to be sincerely heart-rending with some damn good writing. So good, I bought the script and am reading through it. The playwright (Enda Walsh) is apparently on the rise. This is what the Irish lady sitting next to me was telling me about. I think she knew him or something, I don't quite remember what she said. Had a good conversation with her. Anyways, she told me that the writing in the play is brilliant not just for the dialogue, but the stage direction as well. She's quite right, the playwright knew exactly what he wanted at all times, and goes into great detail in the direction (which playwrights don't often do). Everything was so pin-pointed and strongly directed that it felt like every movement had a great significance.
That night I went out to an open session with an American couple and a Swiss pair (brother and sister) I met at the hostel. An open session is when there's music playing in a pub, but not for professional reasons. Usually there with be a leader or sorts, this time an older gent on the fiddle who brought a stand-up bass with him. The "designated" musicians typically bring instruments, but they'll give up their spot for a stranger to play (I believe the only expectation is that you know what you're doing). Now I know what you're thinking--this isn't a bunch of hippies getting together to strum like at Lewis & Clark, these guys are good and very adaptable! (not that you're not good Zach, but some guitars and bongos aren't as complex as some fiddles, flutes, bass, etc.) For the most part they played traditional folk music, but they played some American folk as well (this one Australian joined in to sing something about Tennessee whiskey with his buddy back-up vocalizing). Anyways, you have this table of random musicians in a tiny (and I mean tiny) corner pub stuffed with people, just grab some beer and whisky, and you'll easily start to feel in good company.
Today was the last day of the fringe, and after seeing the wonderful "Penelope," I opted for something less dramatic. This was "Next!" Basically it was a very small, intimate show about this woman directly talking to the audience about her experiences being rejected in the acting world. She's one of those actresses that only gets small, forgettable parts on the 'tele' or film and must go through the the harsh process of auditioning every day. Her stories are quite funny in a sad way, because haven't we all been there, not amounting to what we've hoped for but continue to strive on?
Other than that, I just kind of wondered around today and sat in a whisky bar. I went to this rather swanky (in appearance) place that had a huge selection of Scotch whiskies. It was a store/restaurant/bar. There I saw a 50 year bottle for only 7500 pounds! Anyways, I sat at the bar and started to talk to the bar-tender about whisky, and he was quite the guru. Well, I imagine all Scotsman are Whisky wise men or sages. I tasted about three whiskies for only around 10 pounds! This is good stuff mind you, in the states it would be 7 bucks for one (and I'm talking Bourbon here, not imported stuff. And Johnnie Walker isn't this quality either!) It's much more accessible to taste whisky here, they sell little bottles as well! So I was tasting while he taught me about the types, what peated is, regions and so on. I enjoyed all three, but the Edradour (one of the smaller distilleries in Scotland actually) was my favorite, but the Belhavie was good as well. I finished off with the heavily peated one (I forget the name). The more peated the smokier the taste. This Whisky was like liquid bonfire. I enjoyed it a lot actually, but I would prefer it not to be so forest fiery. Anyways, more useless facts. Scotch whisky is usually marketed after 10 years (if it doesn't say the age, then it's less), and the sage told me it definitely makes a difference in taste for the older, expensive whiskies (but he admits that for the price it may not be worth it, but it's a once in a lifetime thing you must do if you like whisky, and it is amazing (he told me about nirvana being acheived after tasting a 60+ year old one (just kidding, but he is quite wisened). Anyways, expect me to come back a whisky snob.
Overall, I'm very glad I left early for the fringe. Edinburgh is a wonderful, beautiful city, but I'm just about ready to see the Scotland everyone thinks off -- the country side. I've had some good conversations, some of them with Scottish people, but for the most part it was with various types of peoples. Germans, Swiss, Aussies, and so on. It's just too touristy to really get the sense of Scotland. That's why this morning, trying to figure out what to do with the next couple days, I've decided to head up north for three nights in Inverness, the curtural capital of the highlands. It will still be touristy I'm sure, but it will be a great change of pace from the fringe. It'll be a four hour train ride through the mountains, which will certainly be magnificient.
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Fringey-ness Part II
More shows. Yesterday I went to "The Cure." Not the band, but the play going on here. It was a normal one for a change! And by normal, I mean it dealt with two homosexual friends (a male and a female) and the male's hidden passion and confused lust for her. It was well acted with some funny parts to it, and the ending was pretty damn amazing in regards to the rehearsal process they must have gone through. He spoke and she lip-synced to him. Later that night I went to a jazz club. The singer had a good voice, it was good... I don't really need to go into detail with music. You just sorta sit there and enjoy it.
Today I saw "A Dream Play." It was intriguing and quite visual, but came off as a bit trite. Not to say I didn't enjoy it. It was just all over the place and a bit much to comprehend. But that is the point, as dreams are like that. The actors were color coded and had shawl things they used for props.
A lot of performers are staying at the hostel I'm in (which by the way, is a really great place; it has a funky atmosphere and is in a great location right below the castle. It's called the Castle Rock Hostel, and I recommend it). Anyways, while cooking and eating dinner last night, I talked to some actors who've been here longer and got recommendations from them. This morning, I exited my room to discover the woman from "Tokyo Love Song" (Shoto Ita, or something) is living in the room next to me. She came out just as I was and I gave her some "good work" or some encouragement like that. Later on I saw her rehearsing in a common room.
I haven't really talked much about Edinburgh yet. Well, you got this castle in the middle of town all perched up on a cliff. The road leading up to the castle (the Royal Mile) is where a lot of tourism takes place. You'll find more cashmere shops on this road than Starbucks in Seattle. No kidding, there could be like 4 or 5 in a row on one side. I was going to buy one yesterday because they had them marked down half price (only 15 pounds) but I had no quids left on me. I figured to try today, but they marked them back up for the weekend! Hopefully they'll cut them down for the last day. The Royal Mile is also where many of the street performers are and where the box office is (although if you're smart, you simply get a show in mind and just buy the ticket at the venue. That way you don't wait in line like an idiot tourist).
For the most part, the fringe is located in Old Town. Old Town in general feels like a castle on a hill. Notoriously crowded during the 18th century, Old Town has 4 story buildings with no separation between them, rising with the hill. Sometimes you get quaint little alleys that decline to the next parallel street, often with hideaway pubs. To the north of the Castle is New Town, which was planned out in the 18th century to counter the city's crowded problems (I learned this shit in a museum homes!) New Town is certainly more spaced out, business oriented, and less touristy, but is lined up with H&M and other trendy shops I'm sure you can find in other cities.
On the New Town side is the Sir Walter Scott monument - a tall citadel of sorts you can walk up for amazing views of the city. The stair case is a narrow circular shaft where you pray not to meet someone on the way down, which surely will happen. You just hug the wall and they should be able to squeeze past you. At the top you'll find a great view of the castle as well as King Arthur's seat (the craggy mountain to the southeast of Old Town that I hiked up yesterday.
Other than that, I went to a fantastic art museum today that had some impressive art nouveau pieces from Scottish artists I have not heard of (I know of Macintosh and the Glasgow boys, I'm not talking about them). I must have spent at least two hours there. Also, I had my first haggis today, and willikers was it surprisingly good! Just don't ask what it is (Sheep heart, lungs, liver minced up with onions, spices and such, cooked inside the stomach (apparently the stomach technique isn't used that much anymore)). Mix it up with some neeps and tatties and then pour some whisky on top and you're golden!
As for the beer, I am now in love with Belhaven's Best. Why the hell don't they export it to the states? Its creamy and smooth like a Guinness, but its an amber color draft with a great flavor I can't pinpoint. The Deuchar IPA however was dissapointing. It's very weak sauce compared to American IPA's, in hoppiness and flavor in general.
Next time, I'll fill you guys in with the rest of my Fringe experience. Till then, as everyone says here, Cheers!
Today I saw "A Dream Play." It was intriguing and quite visual, but came off as a bit trite. Not to say I didn't enjoy it. It was just all over the place and a bit much to comprehend. But that is the point, as dreams are like that. The actors were color coded and had shawl things they used for props.
A lot of performers are staying at the hostel I'm in (which by the way, is a really great place; it has a funky atmosphere and is in a great location right below the castle. It's called the Castle Rock Hostel, and I recommend it). Anyways, while cooking and eating dinner last night, I talked to some actors who've been here longer and got recommendations from them. This morning, I exited my room to discover the woman from "Tokyo Love Song" (Shoto Ita, or something) is living in the room next to me. She came out just as I was and I gave her some "good work" or some encouragement like that. Later on I saw her rehearsing in a common room.
I haven't really talked much about Edinburgh yet. Well, you got this castle in the middle of town all perched up on a cliff. The road leading up to the castle (the Royal Mile) is where a lot of tourism takes place. You'll find more cashmere shops on this road than Starbucks in Seattle. No kidding, there could be like 4 or 5 in a row on one side. I was going to buy one yesterday because they had them marked down half price (only 15 pounds) but I had no quids left on me. I figured to try today, but they marked them back up for the weekend! Hopefully they'll cut them down for the last day. The Royal Mile is also where many of the street performers are and where the box office is (although if you're smart, you simply get a show in mind and just buy the ticket at the venue. That way you don't wait in line like an idiot tourist).
For the most part, the fringe is located in Old Town. Old Town in general feels like a castle on a hill. Notoriously crowded during the 18th century, Old Town has 4 story buildings with no separation between them, rising with the hill. Sometimes you get quaint little alleys that decline to the next parallel street, often with hideaway pubs. To the north of the Castle is New Town, which was planned out in the 18th century to counter the city's crowded problems (I learned this shit in a museum homes!) New Town is certainly more spaced out, business oriented, and less touristy, but is lined up with H&M and other trendy shops I'm sure you can find in other cities.
On the New Town side is the Sir Walter Scott monument - a tall citadel of sorts you can walk up for amazing views of the city. The stair case is a narrow circular shaft where you pray not to meet someone on the way down, which surely will happen. You just hug the wall and they should be able to squeeze past you. At the top you'll find a great view of the castle as well as King Arthur's seat (the craggy mountain to the southeast of Old Town that I hiked up yesterday.
Other than that, I went to a fantastic art museum today that had some impressive art nouveau pieces from Scottish artists I have not heard of (I know of Macintosh and the Glasgow boys, I'm not talking about them). I must have spent at least two hours there. Also, I had my first haggis today, and willikers was it surprisingly good! Just don't ask what it is (Sheep heart, lungs, liver minced up with onions, spices and such, cooked inside the stomach (apparently the stomach technique isn't used that much anymore)). Mix it up with some neeps and tatties and then pour some whisky on top and you're golden!
As for the beer, I am now in love with Belhaven's Best. Why the hell don't they export it to the states? Its creamy and smooth like a Guinness, but its an amber color draft with a great flavor I can't pinpoint. The Deuchar IPA however was dissapointing. It's very weak sauce compared to American IPA's, in hoppiness and flavor in general.
Next time, I'll fill you guys in with the rest of my Fringe experience. Till then, as everyone says here, Cheers!
Friday, 27 August 2010
Fringey-ness Part I
Hey all. I've decided to do a blog thinger. NO I am not indulging myself. This thing is for myself to remember events and I don't give a damn about your reading pleasure! OK, I lie, maybe I do. I named it Highland Swing because, I don't know, It should be all Scottish and stuff. Also, its the name of my favorite trail at Hidden Valley, the dinky little hill I learned to ski. Anyways, I've been here for two days now, and here's the deal.
The sun was rising as I left my connection in Dublin. Across the Irish sea, strange cloud formations like long crop mounds stretched below us. Then a coast appeared, and eventually barren, craggy hills. A misty veil sprawled between the contours of these mountains, flowing like a river. For a moment I couldn't even tell if it were fog. It looked like the clouds clung onto the soil, making the earth look rather sheepish.
Beautiful right? But aw crap, my luggage wasn't there when I arrived! That didn't really bother me however (they were excellent at getting it to me the next morning, so no biggie). However, it left me a little discombobulated. Well, mostly it was the sleep deprivation. In my confusion and inattention, I walked past customs. They too, were inattentive. Usually this would be a great thing, but I had some Visa letter thing I may have needed to show them. I tried to go back, but the apparently impenetrable gate thing was shut. I talked to some security guy who had a lovely Scots accent, notifying him of my plight, but he said I'd have to go through security and everything. He basically told me to be thankful walking past them, and not to worry about it. That I did. I'll figure out the whole visa thing when I see Mr. Professor Man (the group leader) in Glasgow.
Oh, for those who do not know, I left earlier than the I needed for the abroad program in order to see the Fringe festival in Edinburgh. This is the largest arts festival in the world! There are hundreds of shows going on here throughout the month of August. It is really disorienting to figure out which shows to go too. A horde of brochure people help and don't help advertising them. Many of them sound so interesting, but at the box office for the first time I had no idea which to go for. I ended up seeing "Wolf," which was interesting. Hhmyes, it was a very intimate piece where the audience stands up while the actors interact with them. And by interact, I mean act like wolves, sniffing and gnawing them. I think this one she-wolf fancied me, as she bit my shoulder and kept grinding her butt against me (she cornered me against other people; otherwise, as a respectable young man, I would not allow it!) Anyways, it dealt with folklore and various stories on Wolves. It ended up being surprisingly enjoyable (not just because of the she-wolf, I swear!)
By this time I was half-dead from sleepyness and hunger, so I got some fish n' chips and took a nap. Afterwords I got a ticket for "Tokyo Love Song" which I kept hearing was excellent, and enjoyed the street performers. It's fun to see a crowd swarm around these guys in the middle of the street. This swell magician, who was also quite comical and witty, selected me out and had a wonderful time joking about America (don't fret, he made fun of many peoples, especially the English in true Scotsman fashion). The Tokyo show weirded me out at first; it was very Japanese-y, if you know what I mean. But she (it was a solo act) grew on me as it continued.
Anyways, I haven't even mentioned today, or other things, but this is getting quite long. Part II tomorrow.
The sun was rising as I left my connection in Dublin. Across the Irish sea, strange cloud formations like long crop mounds stretched below us. Then a coast appeared, and eventually barren, craggy hills. A misty veil sprawled between the contours of these mountains, flowing like a river. For a moment I couldn't even tell if it were fog. It looked like the clouds clung onto the soil, making the earth look rather sheepish.
Beautiful right? But aw crap, my luggage wasn't there when I arrived! That didn't really bother me however (they were excellent at getting it to me the next morning, so no biggie). However, it left me a little discombobulated. Well, mostly it was the sleep deprivation. In my confusion and inattention, I walked past customs. They too, were inattentive. Usually this would be a great thing, but I had some Visa letter thing I may have needed to show them. I tried to go back, but the apparently impenetrable gate thing was shut. I talked to some security guy who had a lovely Scots accent, notifying him of my plight, but he said I'd have to go through security and everything. He basically told me to be thankful walking past them, and not to worry about it. That I did. I'll figure out the whole visa thing when I see Mr. Professor Man (the group leader) in Glasgow.
Oh, for those who do not know, I left earlier than the I needed for the abroad program in order to see the Fringe festival in Edinburgh. This is the largest arts festival in the world! There are hundreds of shows going on here throughout the month of August. It is really disorienting to figure out which shows to go too. A horde of brochure people help and don't help advertising them. Many of them sound so interesting, but at the box office for the first time I had no idea which to go for. I ended up seeing "Wolf," which was interesting. Hhmyes, it was a very intimate piece where the audience stands up while the actors interact with them. And by interact, I mean act like wolves, sniffing and gnawing them. I think this one she-wolf fancied me, as she bit my shoulder and kept grinding her butt against me (she cornered me against other people; otherwise, as a respectable young man, I would not allow it!) Anyways, it dealt with folklore and various stories on Wolves. It ended up being surprisingly enjoyable (not just because of the she-wolf, I swear!)
By this time I was half-dead from sleepyness and hunger, so I got some fish n' chips and took a nap. Afterwords I got a ticket for "Tokyo Love Song" which I kept hearing was excellent, and enjoyed the street performers. It's fun to see a crowd swarm around these guys in the middle of the street. This swell magician, who was also quite comical and witty, selected me out and had a wonderful time joking about America (don't fret, he made fun of many peoples, especially the English in true Scotsman fashion). The Tokyo show weirded me out at first; it was very Japanese-y, if you know what I mean. But she (it was a solo act) grew on me as it continued.
Anyways, I haven't even mentioned today, or other things, but this is getting quite long. Part II tomorrow.
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