Hiya, sorry for the delay between the last post and this. Much has happened though and so I have stories to tell. Sort of.
On Wednesday, the 11th I woke up too early and went to the train station to wait in the cold for the train to Aberdeen. I like mornings. I mean, I hate them because everyone else is chipper; however, if the people around me understand that I’m grouchy in the A.M. and don’t speak to me for the first hour, then I like the mornings. This particular morning was a likeable morning because it was nice out (for Scotland) and in a couple hours I would be seeing my friend in Aberdeen. I met her in Barcelona, spent maybe 3 days with her, and then we continued to email and keep each other updated on our lives. I now consider her an adorable, wonderful close friend.
It’s rather weird, maybe even a little awkward, meeting up with someone you’ve become so close with online. We left Barcelona as new friends never really expecting to see each other again. And yet, here I was three months later seeing her. But, with everything good I get something unpleasant and this time it happened 5 minutes of being reunited with her and leaving the station. First, I’m going to say that a) my cousin loves the quote “if you’re a bird I’m a bird” and I think it’s the stupidest thing because b) birds and I dislike each other. For the second time in the last year, I was an innocent bystander that got shat on by a pigeon.
I think it must have been related to the bird I chased in Galway, Ireland. Although not the greatest way to begin a short trip, I have rarely been happier to see people I know. I really miss my friends and family back home right now and so seeing people whom I didn’t have to introduce myself to was wonderful. We fell asleep at 11 that night and I slept until 1 the next afternoon. It was the best pre-weekend get-a-way yet.
Friday gave me a slow day in the hotel and a young couple to train. They are super nice. Reka is Hungarian and her partner, Inbal, is Israeli but has lived in Amsterdam for the last ten years or so. We got the rooms finished and everything cleaned in quick time and I was ready to sit and write when the owner came by. After some friendly conversation, she picked up a plastic bag she had carried in and dumped it upside down onto a table. Receipts poured out everywhere as she announced “Sarah, I need you to sort these for me.” And all I could think was “Numbers. Organizing numbers. Don’t hyperventilate.” Sorting those took a good 2 hours of my life I’ll never get back, but it also introduced me to a couple of Australian fellows. If you’ve read past blog posts here you may remember Red. Well, I think all Australian guys must travel the same. One pretends to be calm and cool, while the other just admits that he’s drunk and has been since they landed in the country and sings about it. In this case Ben is the calm one, like Andrew, and Bob is Red. Yesterday they sat and helped me sort out the receipts (these australian guys and numbers) while Bob and I loudly sang Avril Lavigne and Abba songs to Ben. And I use “sing” quite loosely. Bob was drunk and I was embracing the chance to sing loudly off key. It’s a favourite past-time.
I’m quickly realizing that I get near the end of these stories and don’t know how to end them…. Anyway, moving on.
There is this hill that is called Arthur’s Seat. I’m not sure why. And there’s not a seat at the top. But Tiffany and I went to a farmers market this morning, bought some Scottish beers, and climbed to some rubble near the base of the hike.
Then we opened the beer and drank unashamedly while parents herded their children away from the rocks we sat upon.
After those were downed, the wind picked up and we decided to begin hiking the real hill.
We did it reasonably fast, even passing people, and half way there Tiffany announced “I’m really scared of heights.”
“So getting drunk at the top of this is a good idea because….” I replied. She laughed and we continued up the rocky trail. Finally we reached the top and found the peak to be swarming with tourists because it was the only decent day to hike a hill in the last week.
We finished our beers up at the top while sitting precariously on some rocks near the edge. At that point we decided “yeah, those zig zag stairs look manageable.” And made our way down. I laughed and skipped down the hillside; Tiffany sang to distract herself as she tried to follow in my footsteps. I have to give her props though. If she hadn’t told me she was scared of heights I never would have seen it.
Back in Edinburgh we found Cafe Turva serving both coffee (for moi) and red wine (for hoi) and offered free wifi. We sat and ate and drank and posted photos. Then the manager offered us Turkish delights because we were both so sweet. His words, not mine. But then we decided to share them and see if they were different flavours and Tiffany simply asked the barista “may we have a knife?” To which the barista replied, “So, you want to kill me now?”
She burst out laughing while Tiff and I shared an awkward glance and forced laughter and I could only think “well, that escalated quickly.”
Now I’m back at the hotel sipping green tea, my notebook sprawled out in front of me. This time, next week, I will be in a hostel in Liverpool.
The Adventure Continues.
Goodnight world. All my love, Sarah.