Deep-Fried Scotland

The past weekend was spent traveling to Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland. Friday night, we ran straight from work and just managed to jump on our train to Luton airport. In order to keep expenses down, we're traveling on the lesser airlines, who always travel out of the less known airports of London. Thus, we had quite the trek to get to our plane, but we made it in the end and all was well.

Our first night was spent finding out hostel and immediately heading to the nearest pub, which luckily enough was across the street. After ordering our first round, we got talking to this one overly friendly Scottish fellow, who turned out to be the owner of the pub. He had us all try our first taste of Scottish Whisky and then things got pretty out of hand. The end of the night was capped off with a rousing rendition of the Scottish national anthem, followed by the Canadian anthem. I felt pretty at home with everyone in the pub and I guess they felt the same way too, as one of the guys gave my chest a squeeze. What's the right reaction to this event? Of course you give him a squeeze back and keep drinking.

After somehow finding our way home and sleeping for a few hours, we decided it would be a good idea to climb the local mountain, known as Arthur's Seat. We left the hostel at 7am, in hopes of getting there to watch the sunrise. As we climbed our way up this hill, the wind really began to pick up. By the time we reached the top, the wind was the strongest I had ever felt. I dug my feet into a rock and had to hold on, less I be blown right off the top. The experience was well worth the early start to the day and the view was incredible.

The rest of the day was filled with the usual touristy stuff. We saw Edinburgh Castle, the Royal Mile, Princess Street and other assorted things. At one small gift shop, I started talking to the store keeper, whom I found out was also from Canada. She was nice enough to put a kilt on me and then on went on to explain that girls love guys in a kilt and you look really "sharp" in one. Needless to say, I didn't spend £30 on one.

That night was spent sampling local Scottish foods. First, I had to try Haggis. It was a most. Based on the advice of the kilt girl mentioned above, we went to a pub called The Last Drop. So named as it was the building convicts were taken for their last pint before they were hung. The nooses that decorated the walls of the place really made it feel welcoming. I had the Haggis with Neeps and Tatties (Turnips and Potatoes) and it was delicious. It really filled me up and was quite tasty at that.

From there, we went in search of a dish that I wasn't sure actually existed. I had heard about it, but I began to believe if it was something made up just to make tourists look dumb. I'm talking about the Deep-Fried Mars Bar. One local described the taste as 'I would never put that garbage in my mouth'. With that recommendation, we knew it must be done. We walked 15 minutes further and finally, a huge sign in the window announced its greatness. After eating it, I can say that it is exactly as it sounds. A slightly melted Mars bar wrapped in deep fried batter. Yum.

On Sunday, I split up from the group and went by myself to a small town called Falkirk. It was about a 30 minute train ride from Edinburgh and I went to see Celtic F.C. play against Falkirk F.C. It was my first European football match and I had such a blast. It's so easy to get excited for your side as everyone is cheering and yelling and swearing at the ref for the tiniest infraction. The fans hate each other and made sure to let each other know. To ensure that no fights break out, fans are sectioned based on what team they support. As well, there are separate entrances to the stadium and even separate parking lots! Nothing bad happened as there were police everywhere.

After the game, I hopped on a bus, as mentioned by a local Falkirk fan I was talking with, to see the Falkirk Wheel. I wasn't expecting a lot, but my low expectations were not even met. This thing sucked. It was in the middle of nowhere. It didn't help that it was closed while I was there for maintenance, but even if it wasn't, I'm sure it wouldn't be much better. As I left the wheel, I walked back to the bus station only to find that there weren't any more buses going back any time soon. I began to get a bit worried that I would miss my train.

I walked around the neighbourhood looking for someone, anyone, but the area was near deserted and few to no cars passed through. Finally, I found a guy who was just getting out of his car. I asked him if he knew a taxi number and he pointed me in the right direction back to town. I started walking and kept walking and continued to walk as the sun went down. It was now dark and I was in the middle of nowhere, with no sight of civilization in sight. I was beginning to get pretty nervous.

Suddenly, a car pulled up and sure enough, it was the guy who gave me the cab number! He asked where I was going and when I mentioned the train station, he said he lived right near there and could offer me a lift. I happily took the lift and only after I got in did the fellow tell me that I was lost in the rougher area of Falkirk. Good to know...

Even before I got the lift, I couldn't say enough about how friendly the Scottish people are and after this experience, I'm probably going to be telling everyone about them. I loved Scotland and can't wait to go for a longer time. There was so much of the country I didn't get to see, but I still have lots of years left to make that journey.

This coming Friday, I am taking work off and will be flying to Prague at 7am. Details to follow, as always.

Cheers.