Flying by the seat of my pants…with the help of several guide books, websites, and protips
It’s been a while.
Wednesday I decided I needed to come to Chicago. There is a concert here tonight that I wanted to see. So this morning I dragged my sister out of bed to drive me to the train station for a 6:26 train. I don’t remember how to blog…or travel but here we are. Together. Sitting at the City Stage at Polk Bros Park absorbing the sun and the skyline trying to remember.
X Suze
Warning: some aggressive language
So honestly I didn’t do well in Inverness. I spent an hour in melt down mode crying on a bus alone among strangers because I left my water bottle in a exhibit about Loch Ness….okay it wasn’t just about the water bottle.
After I posted my drunk history of Edinburgh I decided to pop off to bed. I went up to my dorm where I’d left my property several hours prior before I headed off to explore the city and find somewhere to listen to some music. (Which started as a whole other nightmare)
When I got to my room and opened the door I was promptly informed I was in the wrong room to which I responded “no I have a key to this room” then I was informed that the room was full and all of my stuff had been moved to a mystery room. No note or key or email had been left for me. Apparently a phone call had been attempted but my phone is only partially functional abroad and what functions are available are only available on WiFi.
So here I am in a city on my first night in a hostel I was less than enthusiastic about in the first place (because it wasn’t super clean and there weren’t lockers for my bag and the guy at the desk was kind of a bag of dicks) and I have no room, no idea where my stuff is, it’s 3 am and reception is closed until 8 and I’m pissed about having to be up all night watching a La La Land/ Deadpool double feature because I can’t very well sleep in the common room. Come 8 am Bag-O-Dicks basically gives me the old hashtag sorry not sorry and does nothing to improve the situation.
I go to my new room (my new roommates NEVER LOCKED THE DAMN DOOR IN A HOSTEL WITH NO LOCKERS) to change and get ready for a fun filled day with a four hour tour of Loch Ness and Urquhart Castle, leave, come back, and turns out while we were gone the door code changed so I’m locked out still crying with the people who went on the same tour as me from the hostel who just happened to also have been the family in the room that was no longer mine. We spent several minutes buzzing the buzzer while Bag-O-Dicks was out back smoking.
At that point I was ready to swim home. I hated the hostel, I hated Inverness, I hated Bag-O-Dicks, I hated myself for booking this trip in the first place. I ended up talking to the hostel manager when I asked for the new door code and telling him what happened. He was extremely accommodating and between the £10 he gave me then and the £20 he gave me on check out I got almost all of my money back and he kept asking me questions about what happened to investigate and make sure that didn’t happen again which made a huge difference. Thank you, manager. Suck it, Bag-O-Dicks.
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Pro tip (from someone who has spent 5 nights in hostels…ever): look at the walls.
Both of the hostels I’ve stayed in have had fliers for nearby events (one more than the other) everything from the best looking, best singing music man in Inverness (who turned out to be playing in what was essentially an attic with only 4 tables) to Edinburgh comic con to literary tours.
Once you’ve done your daily sightseeing check the walls (and the receptionists may also be able to give some pointers) for what other things you can do that perhaps aren’t strictly touristy.
So tonight as mentioned a friend I met in the hostel and I made our way to see the best looking, best singing music man in Inverness on the suggestion of the hostel manager and a flier on the wall. This bar was a small room upstairs from another bar. Literally only four or five tables. So a few locals came to talk to us. We met a group of ladies and an older gentleman all who asked how we found this place off an alley on a Sunday night and the fact of the matter is a love of live music and following what the universe suggests for me to do has led me pretty well so far.
Tomorrow will be more interesting. Something about glaciers and dinosaurs from the dawn of time.
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Ye olde Scottish joke on the rest of the world. The punchline? It’s not bad.
We arrived in Edinburgh and found my hostel a bit earlier than I was allowed to check in (despite getting lost ending up at the castle and having to ask a nice police officer where I was going…he wasn’t sure but pointed me to the right street) so along my walk I noticed a little restaurant called Auld Jock’s which a lovely older man, who I met yesterday but I’m saving that for a day I have nothing to say because he deserves his very own post, told me is what they called Scots in the British military back in the day. (Fun fact!) After I dropped off my backpack in the luggage storage and wobbled my way over the restaurant (apparently I’d forgotten how to walk without it after 2 days of not going anywhere without it.)
I walked in practically getting tackled by the nice server who it was his first day and there were only 3 available tables…I’m sorry that was misleading there were ONLY THREE TABLES. So my awkward self shuffled behind one and asked for suggestions. The gentleman training the server suggested the full Scottish breakfast asking if I’d had haggis which I hadn’t and when better than my first Scottish meal?
So for those that don’t know haggis is made of sheep “pluck” (which is heart, liver and lungs) some oatmeal and onion and a whole load of seasoning then boiled in a cleaned sheep’s stomach (traditionally….they do have artificial casings for haggis these days just like sausages).
I’m all in on this trip. If an opportunity of an experience presents itself I’m taking it (a shocking array of sheep bits included) shortly after placing my order my first real meal in a full day was set before me.
So how was the haggis? As I said it’s not bad. It’s rather salty and the oatmeal added a texture that food I’m used to from the state’s doesn’t generally have. A bit grainy. The linebacker who greeted me initially seemed amused and asked how I liked it and and asked if I wanted to know what it was. (I knew what I was getting myself into before I ate it). I suppose that’s it for tonight I’m blogging to you from another story for another day.
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I left my house nearly 36 hours ago. I landed in Dublin this morning. I set foot on an island as part of a new continent. The border patrol asked me how long I’d be in Ireland and that was an awkward “well….Eleven hours but I’m coming back” it’s okay he still stamped my passport. (I have a stamp in my passport!)
So far I’ve been on two planes,
Three busses
And a ferry.
I’m currently sitting in a depot in Wales awaiting a train to take me to another train to take me to Edinburgh.
I have eaten 2 Clif bars and 3 packets of increasingly mushed pop tarts and some airplane food that was significantly more impressive than I expected but I expected a soggy sandwich and received:
I’ve gotten approximately two sleeps. (As you could tell I’m sure) so I’m going to see if I can’t get two more before my 430 train. If I can’t I may be back.
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Carefully Reckless Travel 