By Erin Loury
Sept. 13, San Jose -- Oh, bonnie Scotland. How can I sum up in a few words how visiting you has affected me? You were everything and nothing that I expected, an experience that changed the way I see the world and the way I see myself.
After touching down in Edinburgh, I found myself thrown for a loop by all the changes that come from traveling abroad and living on my own, both for the first time.
I had been forewarned of the amount of walking I would face, and I shouldn't have expected a capital city to be anything other than urban -- yet having an somewhat idyllic vision of Scotland made experiencing both of these things first hand a wee shock.
There was also deciphering and contending with a different currency, traffic laws, shop hours, high prices, steep streets and moody weather -- the last of which made me grateful for packing those waterproof shoes.
Creature comforts of home
As I write this, once again surrounded by all the comforts of home (access to a car, a cell phone, the Internet, a stocked refrigerator) I remember that traveling awakened me to how much I take for granted, but also that these are things I'm able to adjust to living without (albeit gradually).
And just as I grew in Edinburgh, it grew on me. Once I got a feel for the rhythm of the city, the ebb and flow of its crowds and cars, I came to love its eclectic urban pulse.
It boasts both historic architecture and green spaces, and from lively pubs to varied (and free!) museums; it is a thriving hub of culture.
I was also engulfed, startled, trampled, dazzled, moved, confused, excited, entertained and left with a handful of fliers after being sucked through the manic spin cycle of the Edinburgh Festival -- and I sampled only a handful of that vast cornucopia.
Had I endless reserves of time and money, the Fringe schedule tacked to the wall, and a couple of darts, who know what other madness I might have seen!
Scottish duality
Edinburgh's blend of history alongside modern businesses and technology is part of that ever-prevalent Scottish theme of duality -- a country that cultivated the fervor of the Protestant Reformation, as well as a love for song and drink, a place of manicured shopping districts and low-income housing projects, and a people as diverse and varied as their opinions on the movie Braveheart. (Does heroic entertainment value make up for glaring historical inaccuracies?)
Just as I found my own generalizations constantly reshaped by conversations with individuals, I offered input on the ones I encountered as well -- not all Americans are right-wing conservatives, not all Californians have a pool.
And apparently, some Scottish people are more familiar with American TV shows than I am! On the flip side, I was surprised to discover that in my four weeks of travels, I saw more of Scotland than many Scots have.
In California especially, it seems our culture is extremely structured on mobility, whereas there is more regional containment in Scotland -- there would have to be to explain why the residents of Edinburgh and Glasgow, located less than 50 miles apart, speak with such distinctly different accents.
Scots go to Spain instead
With gas prices so high, and the rest of Europe at their doorstep, traveling Scots often pass over remote Orkney, the Isle of Skye, and even the Highlands in favor of some place sunny like Spain.
But I think more people should experience the joy of belting out rounds of Disney songs on the sands of a deserted Orkney beach, drenched in the long honey light of perpetual sunset. Romping in this northernmost region was the sweetest taste of windblown freedom.
And oh, those Highlands -- vast expanses of springy heather and mighty green hills, studded with castles and silvery lochs, steeped in history -- they very nearly ran away with my heart.
It was there I gathered most of the pieces of my "quintessential Scotland" patchwork -- seeing kilts and hairy coos, trying haggis and whisky, hearing bagpipes and hunting for Nessie.
History from a chorus of voices
I also developed a fond connection to Scottish history after hearing it from a chorus of voices, experiencing it in every place I visited.
In my subsequent trip to London, I found that my perception of British history and past monarchs is tainted by the knowledge of what troubles they brought for Scotland.
In one museum, I fairly bristled when I discovered the origin of a Scottish artifact attributed on a map to "Northern Britain." Though its history is turbulent and culture sometimes disjointed, Scotland certainly has an identity all its own.
One of my closing memories of satisfaction was a second trek up Arthur's Seat -- and instead of finding a shroud of mist at the top, this time I had a full panoramic view.
Accomplished feet
I rocked back on my feet that had become so accomplished at climbing and exploring, drinking in a view of the city that I had come to love, seeing the sun glint off the church spires that first caught my eye weeks before.
I realized how truly fortunate I was to be here, to have this adventure that was both trying and rewarding -- one that made me stronger, more confident -- and more aware of my own capabilities and limitations, of the rich world that exists outside the bubble of my comfort zone and of my place in that world.
I marvel thinking over all the culture, beauty, and history I've experienced in Scotland, and I am both hopeful and longing to make my way back.
Erin invites readers to send her comments and questions about her experiences at ekloury@ucdavis.edu.
![]](/news_assets/news_images/mast_tab_rt.gif){kind=small}
Return to home page