Here we are...Is it april? Is it really the END of April? Soon it will be May. And then June. And then I will be home. I never finished my story about the euro trip, so for the sake of my own resolve and need for conclusion, I will begin where I left off and quickly debrief you on what went down in Scotland. On April 12, I went to Rhona's friend's (named Cairene--Cy-reen's) apartment, because my couch surfer had plans my last night in Glasgow, and I also really wanted to meet the kind soul who was offering me a bed simply because I was Rhona's friend. I met Cairene with all my ridiculous baggage at the subway station in the city center. She is SO cute, so sweet, and so gracious. We talked for the whole walk to her home at Strathclyde University, and I knew we would be immediate friends. She is from a reformed church in Inverness, and she is very aware of RUF, which was so exciting to me. I hadn't even heard the word "RUF" in months, and it was so funny to hear it being talked about by someone with a Scottish accent. We arrived to her very cute apartment, and my first thought was that it was decorated similarly to how I would decorate my house. I felt right at home. Fiona, Cairene's engaged and amazing room mate, made us dinner of pork loin and vegetables. My body had been craving veggies, of course, so it was phenomenal. After dinner, Fiona and her fiance, Roddy MacKay (who is one of the most incredible photographers ever...check out his site...apparently he's sort of famous in Scotland: http://www.roddymackayphotography.com) made plans for their upcoming wedding, and Roddy told me all about how he got into photography. Then Cairene and I watched Billy Elliott, chatted, and went to bed. Unfortunately, the next morning I had to leave early to get on bus and go to Inverness. On the bright side, however, I was SO excited to see Rhona. After the 3 and 1/2 hour bus ride, I arrived in Inverness to immediately see Rhona's smiling face. We went to her house, which is very lovely and nestled a bit outside the city among the sheep and quiet Scottish countryside. We went on a walk, taking her normal running route (which has far more uphills than I can imagine on one run) and found the ruins of a burial site, where apparently witchcraft was practiced (i took a few pictures--check out my facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=31041096&id=1510230035&saved#!/photos.php?id=1510230035). After this, we went home, and I met Rhona's parents, who are so friendly and have gorgeous accents. I met Coulin (cool-in), their black lab, and immediately we bonded. I gained her favor very quickly because at every meal I would give her my leftovers (her parents were fine with this). Rhona's mom, Alison, made dinner for us, and that evening we laid around doing nothing. The next day, Rhona and I went to Loch Ness to find the monster and then to the "Footprints". Apparently, in the 1700's, a preacher named Finley Monroe was giving a sermon to a crowd of people. Someone in the crowd began heckling him to prove what he was saying. Monroe claimed that as proof to the world that his words were truth, the place where he stood would be marked in the ground forever. Since then, footprints are marked very clearly on the ground in that specific spot. Recently, a man dug up the footprints so that nothing was there anymore. The footprints came back, and the guy who dug them up died a week later. Craaaaazy. Rhona and I had lunch by Loch Ness, the sun happily shining on our pasty faces. It was a gorgeous day. So completes Wednesday, the 14th. The next day was Thursday, and we explored Inverness high and low. The cathedral, the church Rhona grew up in, Leakey's bookstore (a church, converted to a quaint little bookstore), and TK Maxx (Europe's version of TJ Maxx). We had dinner that night--Indian food (which is extremely popular cuisine in the UK, and I have no idea why). It was delicious, of course, because Rhona's mom is amazing. We went to the movies for a girl evening and watched Dear John. It was cheesy and sad and had an unsatisfactory ending. But I mean. It's ok. I still wept, because it's what I do. The next day we went to the Isle of Skye, where Angus MacAskill (Rhona's dad, as well as one of her ancestor's--the famous giant) is from. It was freezing, but GORGEOUS. Rhona introduced me during the drive to Kate Rusby, a folk/celtic singer, who sounds probably like an angel. We arrived to a lighthouse and found a cozy little spot with a view of the North Sea and the light house. After shivering our way through a picnic, complete with millionaire shortbread (my new favorite Scottish dessert), Rhona and I booked it back to the car. Not before getting a picture together in front of the sea with a puppy who insisted on posing with us by jumping up on my legs relentlessly. We drove back home, and I went on a run around Rhona's neighborhood. It was a beautiful run, even though I got lost. It was one of those I-think-i-could-run-forever days, so i didn't mind being lost for awhile. Rhona's mom made breakfast/dinner that night, and we had black pudding. Traditional Scottish delicacy with oatmeal, garlic, onions, and...wait for it...pig's blood. It's actually not bad, but really weird, and it's hard for me to get past the fact that i'm freaking eating blood. So I didn't eat it all. But I tried it!
The next day was go-home day, but alas, my flight was canceled because of the volcano. So, armed with a book from tesco and plenty of snack food, I got on an overnight bus to london, which was maybe the most miserable bus ride of my life. I couldn't find a comfortable position in which to sleep, so I finished my book and sort of dozed. The kind of doze where your head falls and then you wake up suddenly. It happens endlessly, and sleep never comes. Upon arriving in London Victoria bus station, I waited for another bus to Cardiff. On that bus, Lindsey got on (she was supposed to meet me in Scotland, but her flight was canceled because of the volcano too, so she stayed with a friend in London and waited till I was going back to Swansea so we could ride together) and we talked the whole way about our separate adventures. I saw all her pictures from Greece (I am now dying to go to the island of Santorini...someday maybe) and she heard about my fun in Scotland. In Swansea, I caught all my room mates up on my life and realized that it wasn't at all strange to be back. It was more strange that I ever left...the most whirlwind, crazy 4-week adventure of my life.
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