Home at last!

I have returned to AMERICA!  True, I did that about five days ago, and I’ve just been too lazy to do my final blog entry until now, but cut me some slack!  It’s not easy gallivanting around Ireland and Britain with no job and very little schoolwork for three and a half months!  I should get a medal or something.

My last two weeks in Ireland were pretty mundane.  I took five exams over the course of two weeks, where I had two hours to answer two vague and annoying questions on all of them.  When I wasn’t studying (which was quite often), I passed the time by Skyping with friends and family, watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 on YouTube, or throwing a squishy ball against my bedside wall and catching it (much to the chagrin of the guy next door).  I also went around and said goodbye to a lot of landmarks that I had become accustomed to seeing during this semester.  I went into Limerick City and walked by the Shannon one last time, gazing towards King John’s Castle, and remembering when it was new and exciting just three months prior to visit a medieval structure (I must have been in at least eight or nine castles and fortifications since).  I did some last minute souvenir shopping, went to a Church of Ireland service, and had my last meal at Supermac’s (that last one was especially important for me). 

I said goodbye to many places on campus as well: the main building where most of my classes were held, the library where I spent a lot of quiet time away from my noisy suitemates, the rugby pitch where I often played Gaelic football with Irish, French, and German guys, the on-campus restaurant where I paid €9.50 for a piece of chicken and some chips my first week on campus and then never went back.  I especially wanted to visit that mysterious ruin one more time, and I even was ballsy enough to climb its rather unpredictable staircase all the way to the top:

Saturday at 4am, I said goodbye to the University of Limerick as a whole and took a three-hour bus ride into Dublin Airport (and thank goodness that’s the last bus ride I’ll be having in a while!).  The Irish were all worried about the massive snow that was supposed to come this weekend (massive as in about four inches), but it seems as though England and Scotland got the worst of that, so my flight took off around 11am with no problems.  After doing the time warp, I finally touched down at JFK around 1:30pm where I was greeted by US Customs (who didn’t like the fact I was wearing my Phillies hat…I think they’re jealous of the best pitching rotation in baseball), and then my mom, my girlfriend Megan, and my good friend Christina (the latter two were a very nice surprise).  We drove back to the Poconos, and I became well acquainted with two material objects I sorely missed: my mother’s homemade cookies, and my nice warm bed.  And there was much rejoicing (yay).

So there officially concludes my study abroad trip to Ireland.  I could go on and on about how this was a life-changing experience that was oh so great and one of the best times I’ve had in my life and blah blah blah, but who really wants to hear that?  All I’ll say is that I’m certainly glad I was able to take this trip, and I hope to return to Ireland someday soon.  For your enjoyment (and for my own analysis of my trip), I’ll list some positives and negatives that I experienced during my time abroad.  Now, it may seem like there are more negatives than positives (and there are), but don’t think that means I didn’t enjoy myself.  The fact is that the quality of the positives far outweighs the negatives; the positives are those life-changing things that will come to shape my overall experience, while the negatives are really just small annoyances that I’ll eventually forget about soon enough.  Here you go:

Positives:

• Seeing new places: I’ve probably said this a hundred times to the people I’ve talked to recently (so forgive me), but as an avid book reader (especially of history books), it was simply eye-opening to actually see and be around the places that I’ve read about for so long.  I can’t describe that feeling in my chest whenever I first spotted a landmark that I’ve seen in countless pictures; it’s something that stayed with me from the beginning of this trip (the Dublin Post Office where the 1916 Rebellion occurred) to the end (the Peace Wall separating Catholics and Protestants in Belfast).  Having the images of these places in my mind and in my camera is the best thing I could ever take away from this trip.
• Talking to people with different backgrounds and cultures: It was just interesting listening to all the little quirks people have that are so blatantly different to what I’m used to in the States.  Even people within Ireland itself are different; despite only 120 miles distance between them, people from Cork and people from Galway sound complete different from each other (and I had one of each living in my suite!).  Learning the lingo was another fun little challenge I experienced everywhere I went.  If an Irish person drives you somewhere, do not say, “Thanks for the ride,” because “the ride” means something totally different (and inappropriate) to them.
• Spending a little time on my own: Most of my trips were taken by myself, but I really don’t think that was a bad thing.  Quite frankly, I wanted to do what I wanted to do, and I didn’t want to be hindered by somebody with different interests.  Not everyone nerds out about history like I do, and at the same time, I’m not as interested in “experiencing the nightlife” as other people my age.  Going out on my own was the best way to go for me, and in doing so, I think I gained a bit of independence and self-confidence along the way.  I don’t think I entered into the bullcrap “finding myself” territory, but in the end, it was good for me to live on my own and figure things out by myself during this trip.
• Watching Irish/British television: I got to watch “The Weakest Link” and “Father Ted” and “Faulty Towers” even “Trigger Happy TV” during this time, which you really can’t do while in the States.  Also, censorship on Irish/British television is low, so they can play movies like “Die Hard” and “Hot Fuzz” uncut and uncensored on regular cable.  It was good craic!
• My single room with my own bathroom: Enough said.

Negatives:

• Alcohol: I used to think it was a stereotype that Irish people are nothing but drunks, but I’m starting to buy into it a little bit after living there for nearly four months.  They really love to drink!  Irish college kids can outdrink American college kids any day!  While this was a plus for many of my fellow study abroaders (especially the ones under 21), I do not like to drink very much, and the quantity and frequency with which they drank often left me uncomfortable and alone.  I’ll have a Bulmers once every two weeks, and that’s it.  Others did not understand or respect that about me, leaving me with less friends than I would have liked.
• Value of the euro and pound against the dollar: I spent about $1700 on this trip, and at least a quarter of that went towards the exchange rate.  Visually, things still cost the same (bread is about €1.29 and a burger and fries at a sit-down restaurant is still about €8.99), but because it’s a € or £ in front of the number instead of the $ means that I’m paying thirty to forty cents extra on every dollar.  That thought gave me a sharp stab every single time I spent money (even at Poundland where everything’s a pound…or $1.40!).
• The five-hour time difference: I didn’t really like staying up until 3am to watch an entire Phillies, Eagles, or Flyers game.  Oh yeah, talking to people back home only at certain hours was annoying too.
• Classes: Irish classes are boring, pointless, and a joke.  I didn’t really learn anything, played Pokémon during lectures, pooped out my essays in a few hours, and will still ace all these classes.
• Being on my own for food: For the first time, I was without my mom’s cooking or a meal plan for sustenance.  Most of my money probably went towards buying food…and then I had to make the food (woe is me)!  Thank goodness for Aldi, a discount grocery store that probably shaved my food bill by about a third (buying €1.39 frozen pizzas for almost every dinner helped too).
• Missing my friends, family, and dog: Especially the do-do-dog.

As you can see, many of the negatives are silly things, so it was mostly a good time.  And finally, I ranked the favorite places that I visited on this trip:

1. Edinburgh
2. Dublin
3. Liverpool
4. Derry
5. Killarney

I feel bad that more than half of my top five are in the United Kingdom and not the Republic of Ireland, but that’s probably because I needed to stay multiple days in those cities, allowing me to appreciate them more.  Places like Cashel, the Cliffs of Moher, Wexford, and Belfast (though that last one is UK again) could have just as easily made the list.  Rarely was there a place that I didn’t enjoy visiting, and even then it was probably because I was either sick, a little down in the dumps, or with the wrong people.  So, overall, I LOVED IRELAND!  But I’m glad to be home for some homemade cooking and relaxation and the dollar (oh, how I appreciate you much more, dollar).  Thanks for reading all this time!  Maybe I’ll keep a blog next time I’m 3000 miles away from home, just for your entertainment.  Until then, ní bheidh mé ag labhairt Gaeilge arís!

England! England!: Liverpool, Manchester, and Leeds

For my final trip during my time abroad, I decided to check out the place that I heard so many negative things about during my time in Ireland: England.  Yes yes, the English raped and pillaged the land and the traditions here, and now they’re symbolically doing the same thing with their chain supermarkets and popular television programs, but they can’t be all that bad!  After all, they did give us a nice language to speak and those muffins with the nooks and crannies!  So I brought myself a plane ticket for across the sea to assess things for myself.  First of all, I wanted to look nice for my last adventure, and since No-Shave November came to an end the day I was leaving, I went from this:

To this:

Not going to lie, it actually felt pretty good to have the wind sweeping across my bare chin once again (plus I hear that airport security takes more notice to people with beards, and I didn’t feel like getting the pat down).  So on Wednesday morning I landed in Liverpool’s John Lennon Airport.  The name of the airport pretty much set the tone for what I was going to be focusing on to start my England trip, as Liverpool (map: http://bit.ly/hFjDnp) was the birthplace of all four members of the Beatles!  To get in as much Beatles action as I could, I bought a ticket for the aptly-named Magical Mystery Tour, which takes you around to all the Beatles-related places in town:

Trippy, dude.  First, we checked out all the childhood homes of the Fab Four, such as the McCartney’s at 20 Forthlin Road (where reportedly twenty Beatles songs were written):

The Lennon’s at 251 Menlove Avenue:

The Harrison’s at 12 Arnold Grove:

And the Starkey’s at 10 Admiral Grove:

I was particularly interested in Ringo’s old house, because I had a toy octopus in my possession (thanks to a certain friend back home) and I wanted to see if I could find a garden nearby so I could place it there (hence “Octopus’s Garden,” one of just two songs written by Ringo for the Beatles).  Unfortunately, there was only a garden in the backyard (blocked by a fence), and there was snow on the ground anyway, so I just took a picture of the octopus on Ringo’s doorstep:

It will have to do.  Anyway, we stopped at a number of places relevant to the Beatles, many of which found their way into Beatles songs:

We also noticed a lot of places that, in turn, were named after Beatles songs:

The tour finally ended at the Cavern Club, where the Beatles performed 292 times between 1961 and 1963 before their popularity began to soar through the roof (which is pretty high, since the Cavern Club is actually about three flights of stairs underground).  Luckily, there was actually a John Lennon impersonator performing that night, who looked like Lennon in his later days (well, maybe not so chubby) and sounded much like him too:

He took requests, but got annoyed when people kept asking for songs written by Paul (“Yesterday,” “Blackbird,” “Hey Jude”).  In retaliation (and to “get it out of our system”), he played a seven-minute medley combining all the songs from the 1973 Paul McCartney and Wings album, “Band on the Run.”  Luckily, I came to the rescue and requested a John song (“Girl”), where he thanked me repeatedly.   I write all of this with a heavy heart, as today is actually the thirtieth anniversary of John Lennon’s death, when he was shot in the back four times by some jerk I will refuse to name (since his desire to become famous was part of the reason he shot Lennon in the first place).  There will actually be a concert to John’s memory today outside of his old high school, and I’m sad that exams forced me to plan my trip earlier so that I’m missing it (damn priorities!).

Anyway, now that I probably Beatled you out, I then hopped on bus to go eastward into Manchester (map: http://bit.ly/dN697X).  Manchester was mostly built in the 19^th century during the industrial revolution, and as such it doesn’t have much of the history that I enjoy (if you couldn’t tell by now).  One of the interesting things was that the city was built upon (and named after) a 1^st century Roman fort called Mamucium.  The north wall of the fort has been reconstructed in its original spot:

Another notable fact about Manchester (and you can tell I’m reaching here) is, due to its predominance during the Industrial Revolution, the first passenger train station in the world was build there, linking the city with Liverpool and the sea.  The station is now a museum that hosts a lot of old trains and other means of transportation:

Trains, planes, and automobiles!  Anyway, I really didn’t find Manchester all that interesting.  I mainly used it as a stopping-point before I continued eastward into Leeds (map: http://bit.ly/frMc9l).  Unlike Liverpool and Manchester, which are in the historical region of Lancashire, Leeds is in the western portion of Yorkshire.  Shires used to be the main unit of administrative divisions in medieval England, when hobbits were running around, singing songs, and throwing rings into volcanoes.  Now shires have less political significance, but it’s still a way for people to identify themselves by location (“Where are you from?” “I’m from Yorkshire!”).  Lancashire and Yorkshire actually have a bit of a rivalry mainly because of the 15^th century conflict known as the Wars of the Roses, when the Houses of Lancaster and York fought each other for control of the English throne.  While the war really had nothing to do with the regions surrounded by Lancaster (Lancashire) and York (Yorkshire) than it did two cousin-branches of the same family squabbling with each other over who was more qualified to rule, it has still taken up a significance so that a matchup between the football (soccer) teams of Manchester United and Leeds United is called, “The War of the Roses.”  Luckily, I was able to see one of those teams in action for myself:

This is Elland Road, home of the Leeds United Association Football Club.  I was able to see them take on Crystal Palace, a team from the south section of London, when I visited the place on Saturday.  It was certainly an interesting experience, much different than any sort of game I’ve been to in the States.  Obviously, I was surrounded by Leeds United fans, but the reserved visitor section was just to the right of us, and it was full with (in my opinion) rather obnoxious Crystal Palace supporters.  What was really fun was when the Crystal Palace fans began to sing their team’s fight song, the Leeds United people around me would stand up, face the opposing fans, and sing their fight song even louder to drown everything else out.  There was also a lot of name calling and hand gestures being flung around that I don’t care to repeat in this blog (got to keep it classy, folks).

Anyway, the game itself was pretty good, although it didn’t seem like it was going to be.  Leeds United actually scored in the first two minutes, but it was called off thanks to a late offsides call.  That actually happened two more times for Leeds until Crystal Palace scored a goal that actually counted, despite a possible offsides there.  It was 1-0 for the longest time (many of the Leeds fans were getting really antsy) until ten minutes left, when they were finally able to tie the game.  The fans went nuts, but then they went even more nuts less than two minutes later when Leeds scored another goal to go up 2-1:

Unfortunately, due to where I was seated, I couldn’t get a good picture of the action going on in the game.  I was positioned right behind the south goal, but all three goals in the game were scored on the other side of the field.  Even when there was something happening on my side, I had to pay close attention, since a ball could be kicked into the crowd at any time (one of them actually grazed the tips of my fingers as I reached my arms up to get it), and I was paranoid that it would hit my camera and break it (and there goes all my Beatles pictures! No!).  But it was still a great game and a great experience (certainly better than watching soccer on television…*snore*), and I was happy the home team finally came away with the victory.  I wished I had more time to explore Leeds in full (there’s a lot of history and culture there), but it wasn’t long before I had to catch my bus back to Liverpool John Lennon Airport and spend a long, sleepless night there (you’d think with the whole “Bed-In” thing he and Yoko did that there would be some comfy couches and chairs to sleep on).

So there was my voyage to England, and my final adventure of the semester.  It makes me a little sad because, essentially, my study abroad experience is over (since all I have left to experience are stupid final exams).  However, I think I’ll be quite happy to come back home and get back to what I’m used to (my family and friends, my dog, the right side of the road, the dollar, the non-accents, peanut butter).  I think I’ll have one more blog entry coming up after I return to the States, summarizing my trip, pointing out my favorite parts, and detailing the positives and negatives of my experience.  Thanks to all of those who have been reading and keeping track (or stalking, if you prefer) of what I’ve been up to here in the Emerald Isle and beyond!  Beidh mé abhaile go luath!

Northern Ireland: Belfast and the coast of County Antrim

This past weekend, the wonderful people at IFSA-Butler took us north of the border to Belfast for Thanksgiving and loads of good craic.  I was in a pretty good mood to start this trip, mainly because it was the final week of lectures, meaning that I don’t need to listen to boring PhDs go on about their subject matters in a dry, uninteresting manner anymore.  However, my Thanksgiving started going downhill pretty early into the seven-hour bus ride, when I even got sick of playing Pokémon (blasphemy)!  We finally got to Belfast (map: http://bit.ly/giXlMt) around 6pm, where Thanksgiving dinner was waiting for us. 

Now, I would like to preface my next few thoughts by saying that I certainly appreciate everything IFSA-Butler has done for us study-abroad students in Ireland; they have helped make our transition into another country a smooth one and have been very generous in the trips and free food they have provided us.  However, they unfortunately have no idea what Thanksgiving dinner is.  They took us to what seemed like a five-star restaurant, which was nice, but those places always seem to jip you on the amount of food you actually get, and thus was the case here: we got three slivers of turkey, drenched in a raspberry sauce which overwhelmed the flavor of the turkey itself!  I wish I took a picture of this, because the skimpiness of the meal may make a true-blooded American weep tears of sorrow.  A friend sitting across from me got it right when he said, “If they just gave us a gift card to Supermac’s worth the same amount as they spent here, that would have been a much better Thanksgiving dinner.”

Alright, enough of the complaining; lots of good things happened around Belfast too!  The next day, we got on that same bus (ugh!) and headed further north in County Antrim.  Our first stop was the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, which is exactly what it sounds like:

Oh yeah, that looks stable.  It’s actually quite safe, just a little wobbly when it’s windy (or when the jerk in front of you is jumping up and down the entire time across).  But it led us to an island with some pretty good views of where the Irish Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean:

That last one actually has Scotland visible in the background (hey, I think I’ve been there!).  Then, after lasagna for lunch (which was way more filling than Thanksgiving dinner), we checked out nearby Dunluce Castle, a 13^th fort has been slowly decaying since its abandonment in 1690:

Legend has it that it was abandoned after a party when the kitchen crumbled all the way down into the sea, taking all of the kitchen staff down with it.  Sounds like a typical Irish party!  Anyway, the main focus of this trip was to check out the weird natural phenomenon that is the Giant’s Causeway (map: http://bit.ly/gkknCJ):

These hexagonal rocks (technically called basalt columns) are the result of volcanic eruptions fifty million years ago, where lava cooled and contracted against the nearby cliffs.  As you can see, you’re allowed to walk and climb all over the rocks as you please, which is pretty cool.  Also, for you Led Zep fans, you may recognize this place from the cover of the Houses of the Holy album:

That’s exactly what I was doing all over those rocks (with my blonde wig and nakedness).  Anyway, when we returned to the city there was a festival going on that night in front of Belfast City Hall:

I was a happy panda after I got my hands on a legit French crepe (from a legit French lady) with warm Nutella dripping out the sides.  Best £3 I’ve ever spent.  Possibly the worst £5 I’ve ever spent, however, was on this monstrosity at T.G.I. Fridays for lunch the next day:

The Jack Daniel’s Ultimate Bacon Burger.  It looks good until you’re about three bites in, and then you start feeling really bad for yourself and your past decisions.  I only went for it because I had a £10 gift card (courtesy of IFSA-Butler), and I was still trying to make up for the lackluster Thanksgiving dinner.  I think I have learned my lesson about getting food with the word “ultimate” in the title.  Much cooler than that (at least for me) was the Black Taxi tour of Belfast, which focuses on the landmarks and events of the Troubles.  We checked out a lot of the murals, which, unlike the ones in Derry that were more Catholic/Nationalist based, I found more Protestant/Loyalist ones in the dominantly-Protestant neighborhood of the Shankill:

That last one is particularly creepy, since the barrel of the gun is pointing at you, no matter where you’re standing to look at it.  Many are dedicated to the Ulster Defense Association (UDA), a Loyalist paramilitary group who often battled with the IRA throughout the 1970s and 1980s.  Because of this, Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods in Belfast are divided by a wall, which has become the longest wall in Europe since the destruction of the Berlin Wall in 1989:

Much of the wall has been painted on, and it is customary for visitors to sign the wall and leave a message for peace between the two communities.  Past signers have included Bill Clinton and Bono, and now Brian Schmidt of Tannersville, Pennsylvania has a message for the people of Northern Ireland, and in turn people around the world:

I think that gets the point across.  Anyway, me and a few friends wanted to turn away from destructive violence and check out some controlled, exciting violence, so we went to a hockey game between the Belfast Giants and the Sheffield Steelers:

British hockey!  Now, most of the players are Canadians and Americans that couldn’t quite cut it in the NHL (or the AHL or any of the many other leagues in North America), so it wasn’t exactly the sharpest game of hockey in the world, but it was still a great atmosphere to be around (especially since the Giants are the defending champs and are 17-3 so far this season).  We mostly picked on this one Sheffield guy by the last name of Campbell (mainly because he body checked the Belfast goalie early in the game), saying things like, “Hey, Campbell’s Chunky Soup!” or “That’s why you couldn’t make it in the big leagues!” or even, “Even your mom’s embarrassed by you right now!”  It was even better when he picked a fight with one of Belfast’s largest players and got knocked down to the ice after fifteen seconds:

Anyway, the G-Men won 4-2, including an empty netter and a strange one-timer that ricocheted off the Sheffield goalie’s own stick and went right through his five-hole.  The British have a thing or two to learn about good hockey (even the zamboni driver missed a few spots between periods), but it was still a lot of great craic.  I hope it will be just as much fun during the football (soccer) match I’ll be at when I’m in Leeds, England next weekend.  Anyway, that’s what I have left for me here: an adventure in England, then five exams in two weeks, then my flight back home.  I guess that means I have just a couple more blog entries left in me, so keep on reading!

Edinburgh, Midlothian, Scotland, United Kingdom, Europe, Earth, Milky Way, Universe

April 5, 1603.  King James VI of Scotland prepares to leave his lifelong home of Edinburgh to head southward to the city of London.  Less than two weeks before, Queen Elizabeth I of England died childless (she was a “virgin” after all), and it was James, her first cousin twice removed, who was her closest living relative.  Now styled James VI of Scotland and James I of England, he was required to leave Edinburgh to take up residence in London since England was larger and more profitable than Scotland.  However, as his carriage was about to pull out the gates of Edinburgh Castle, James promised the Scottish people that he would return to his homeland one out of every three years.  Obviously he failed to keep that promise, since I have now been to Edinburgh just as many times as James did during the 22 years of his joint English-Scottish rule.

I arrived in Edinburgh (map: http://bit.ly/aZEiPG) at eight in the morning on Thursday after a sleepless night in Dublin Airport.  I checked into my hostel soon thereafter, but I wasn’t allowed to enter my room (or more importantly, my bed) until two that afternoon.  Obviously, I needed something to do to occupy my time and keep me awake, and what better to do than check out Edinburgh Castle:

Oh yeah, that’ll wake you up.  Edinburgh Castle was the home of the Scottish Royal Family from the 12^th century until James VI’s non-return trip to England in 1603, but evidence shows that people had been living atop the rock within Edinburgh since the 9^th century BC!  It’s a good camping spot, I guess (especially after looking at the view):

Anyway, Edinburgh Castle is now more-or-less a complex of a bunch of different museums, such as the Scottish National War Museum, along with the castle itself.  I saw the royal crown and scepter that the Scottish monarchy used during their time in Edinburgh, I stood in the room where Mary, Queen of Scots gave birth to James VI in 1567, I checked out the dungeons where the British actually kept American POWs during the Revolutionary War.  There was certainly enough there to keep me functioning in my sleep-deprived state, and I was awake enough to check out nearby Calton Hill, home of Scotland’s National Monument:

If it looks like it’s not finished, that’s because it isn’t!  The idea was that, after the Napoleonic Wars, the British wanted to build a mini-version of the Parthenon to honor those who died in the two decades of bloodshed.  Construction began in 1826, and by 1829 they ran out of money for it!  It has sat in its current state for 181 years, and has over time earned the nickname of “Edinburgh’s disgrace.”  Funny enough, when a proposal was made in 2004 to finally complete the monument, the people of Edinburgh were thoroughly against it, arguing that its incompleteness is what makes it special and noteworthy!  That’s certainly what made me take notice of it, and allowed me to write this paragraph of my blog about it (so maybe they have a point)!

Finally, I was able to crawl into bed and take a six hour nap, waking up just in time for me to get ready for the midnight premiere of…

Hells yeah!  I actually really liked this one, even though I was on edge the whole time as to when exactly they were going to cut the book in half (and it actually wasn’t at the part I was expecting).  Anyway, I’m not going to talk much about it in case there are any of you who haven’t seen it yet (what are you waiting for?!), but something I found strange happened when the credits started to roll: everyone got up to leave!  In the States, for a largely-anticipated movie like this, hardly anyone leaves until the credits are over, just in case there’s a little teaser at the end!  Even though there hasn’t been anything at the end of the Harry Potter films (and granted this one was no different), I thought maybe since this one was in two parts that there would be something, and I was shocked that the Scottish didn’t think twice about staying to the end!  The only people who stayed were me and three girls with American accents behind me (California, to be precise), and we talked about how we refused to leave for other multi-chapter movies in the past, such as Spider-man or Pirates of the Caribbean.  Europeans are weird (though they probably think we’re crazy, sitting through the boring credits)!

Anyway, the next day I decided to check out Holyrood Park.  You’re probably thinking, “Oh, that’s nice.  He explored a quaint little park with fountains and a few statues and trees that are indigenous to other regions around the world.  Sounds like a jolly good time!”  False!  This is Holyrood Park:

It’s a freaking dormant volcano in the middle of the freaking city!  Holy crap (or should I say Holyrood?)!  It was quite a hike, but my reward was a view of the city from atop the peak, which is known as Arthur’s Seat:

Unfortunately, the peak should be called “Annoying-tourists-who-talk-really-loudly-in-their-native-languages-and-hog-up-all-the-good-scenic-viewpoints’ Seat,” since the place was full of them.  Eventually I found a secluded spot so I can hang out and play some Pokémon for a bit, when this guy flew within three feet of me:

I named him Eddy, the Super-Territorial Edinburgh Crow!  The entire time while I was there, this crow walked around me in a circle, stopping every now and then to puff out his feathers and caw at me three times.  I didn’t know whether he wanted to eat me or mate with me!  Finally, when I got fed up and left that spot, I looked back and noticed that Eddy was standing right where I was sitting, looking all proud and cocky.  I thought that was rather weird, until I saw a sign pinpointing that spot where I was:

I was sitting atop of Crow Hill!  I guess that explains that!  Anyway, other than wander around the city and pick up some souvenirs, that was basically what I did in Edinburgh.  I sort of wish I decided to spend another day in Scotland; maybe I would have taken a bus trip up to Loch Ness to not see some sort of monster, but maybe now I have an excuse to come back someday!  Also, I think the brisk air brought out some more of my No-Shave November beard:

Certainly not bushy or anything, but defined I believe is the right word, if I say so myself (plus, I got my newly-acquired Scottish flag in the back of that picture!).  I’m definitely getting rid of it the first day of December; I’m not so fond of the itchiness and scruffiness, but I’ll be loyal to the No-Shave November credo until then!  My next trip will be Thanksgiving in Belfast, the capital and largest city in Northern Ireland, along with my friends within the Butler organization, so I’m looking forward to that (especially the free dinner!).  My poll of who my audience is will be back up for the next week, so make sure to vote if you haven’t already.  As they say around here, thanks a mill!