Northern Ireland — Friday 9 December to Monday 12 December

Friday started for me at 4 AM; at 4:30 for Conor, Josie, and James, and at 4:49 for Adam. For Jessi, Thursday never really ended. We all had varying levels of exhaustion, but I think James summed it all up when, as Josie told it, he plaintively said "please stop..." to her alarm when he couldn't figure out how to turn it off. However, Jessi was able to overcome her exhaustion by being really, really excited about ireland. I think she giggled and said "We're going to Ireland!" about once every five minutes on the forty minute drive to the airport. Thank God we weren't on the metro (same trip is over an hour)...
I love flying. There's something about it. I hate airports, at least the getting into them part, and I dislike the boarding processes, but once I've got my luggage stowed overhead and underseat and myself tucked into a seat, be it next to strangers, friends, or no one, I start getting really giddy. I stare out the window for everything, including the taxi to and from the runway. While I do get a little nervous during bad turbulence, I'm definitely not afraid of flying. Taking this into consideration, I've decided that I have a few backup plans for careers. If the whole scientist thing falls through, I'll try opening a crepe stand (one of those portable things, like hot dog stands: it'd be cheaper than a store, and if I have the money for that, I'm doing my tea/yarn/book store, not food), and if that doesn't work out, either, I'll be a stewardess. I'd get to fly all the time. Even if I don't get to look out windows and I have to put up with far too many upset babies and stupid passengers who try to sneak check-sized bags into the plane and stuff like that, I'd still be flying and even going to potentially cool places. I think it'd be worth it.

Still pretty, even in the dark.

Of course, I didn't get to see a whole lot, given that the sun comes up at about 8:30 and our plane left sometime after 7, but definitely before 8, but still. Flying.
Also, every time I fly, I think of that Weird Al song Albuquerque. The part I think of is 2:00-2:30 minutes, and you don't need to watch the rest unless you're a big Weird Al fan. It's a weird song.
We landed successfully, not too much turbulence, and got slightly lost in Belfast International. Eventually, we caught the Belfast International Express bus to Belfast and decided not to knock around Belfast with all our bags and less than 20 hours of sleep among six people. We managed to catch the sort-of express to Kilkeel just in time, and had a crazy bus ride south (although I had somehow convinced myself that it was north). My internal compass gave up its fight a long time ago, and I've kind of decided that my window is north. Ish. It's probably wrong.
In any case, we bought some groceries (as always, slightly impractical ones; we always mean to get useful staples and end up with pizza, crisps, and muffins) and ordered a taxi to 76 Brackenagh East Road, which I thought was spelled Brackney.
Also, I was completely wrong about my internal compass. My window faces almost due east, but we're north enough and it's winter enough that I think the sun never hits high noon, and lurks off in the south, making it pretty much impossible for me to figure out where it is. Also, too much city-stuff for me to see it setting, and heaven forbid I see it rising. Based on my rather belated walk a few weeks ago, the pretty part of a sunset around here is in the southeast (according to the google maps compass), so whatever. And Clanny House is oriented completely differently versus the coastline than I had thought. Gah... Now I'm going to get a headache whenever I think too hard about it.
Anyway.
We had to take two taxis because they didn't have a van around, so Josie, James, and I waited around for the second one. Our driver was an interesting character who's been all over the world driving taxis and trucks. I've discovered that the northern irish accent is way easier to understand than the southern (like Thomas's... It's like listening to the Swedish Chef from muppets (turn on the youtube captions for that video; it's not vital, but it's funny). I know he's saying words, and I'm pretty sure they're English, but for the life of me I cannot understand him. I don't get why Jessi thought his accent was attractive, because I personally am attracted to being able to understand people.).
The house is adorable. Adam described it as a "Nana house" and it really is, inside and out. It's adorable outside, and it's a little too small and filled with trinkets from long-ago travels as well as more recent trips and pictures of family. The area is what you'd kind of expect from Ireland. It's very green, full of sheep and cool little walls.

Classic.

It turns out that Ireland isn't green because of the native fauna, but because almost every arable patch of land has been turned into pasture or field.

Walls. This is part of the gate to the house.

Pretty good vantage of the countryside. I think that's the Irish Sea on the horizon.

Fields. Walls. I was pretty happy.

Sheep! Or, as Jessi always tries to call them, sheeps. My history prof succeeds at this because no one corrects her in the middle of class, plus it livens up the lecture.

More, um, sheeps. You can't help thinking that it's cuter after a few repetitions. It wasn't fun explaining moose and deer to Jessi, either.

The walls all have huge gaps in them, as seen in the background — no, that's not a hedge — and the left foreground. Our taxi driver said it was to keep the wind from knocking them over. They're new walls made of old rocks.

A ruined building, my guess is a barn, on Brackenagh Rd.

A nicely-lit view of Bingian, I think. 

 Within two hours of getting to the house, we had made pizza and tea and set up the TV. Er... We were also walked in on by a neighbour lady who was just "making the rounds, you know, checking that all the doors are locked" while Conor's grandmother wasn't there, and "didn't know anyone was there" (that's a laugh. She probably saw the taxi drive up, and she also probably knew that someone was coming for the weekend through the neighbourhood grapevine.)
As a flat, we hope to be like Josie's nan, who owns and runs a pub on the truck route in Australia, and who ran after a snake in the road and shot it at age 87, rather than creeping on the neighbours to keep ourselves busy. But probably, we'll end up watching TV all day.
Dinner was pretty slapdash. Since we can't really survive on toast, Josie wanted to make pasta with the tomato puree and the Quorn mince that she found, but she had to get creative on the pasta. There was a little penne and a pack of lasagna sheets, so she cooked the lasagna sheets to a little harder than al dente and cut them into strips, then combined them with the penne.
We tried to watch The Two Towers that night, but in spite of the epic battle to get the TV to recognise James' hard drive that ended in hooking my USB stick (yay IT day!) and James' hard drive to Adam's computer and putting the one of the three parts of the extended version (I was expecting two) onto the stick every time we finished one part, pretty much everyone fell asleep before the end. Conor and I managed to stay up, but I suspect that we may have had the most sleep.

Saturday, it was Josie's birthday. I did my best to sleep through the visit from Conor's distant relative. I'm terrible at visiting. Apparently, though, I missed her waltzing into the guest house where James and Josie were rooming before they got up. Again, with the not knocking thing. But she did leave us a steak and ale (or some kind of booze, I forget the exact word) pie, a dish of cheesy potato things, and a pack of four mini mince pies, which are delicious, by the way.
Adam, James, Josie, and I went dinner shopping, and prayed for deliverance on the taxi ride to the store. I mean, daaaang, these people are crazy drivers.
Ireland does not believe in vegetarians. Luckily, there was some Quorn chicken at the house, or I'd have been one protein-deprived vegetarian. After the store, everyone bundled up in preparation to climb what may have been "Bingian" or possibly "Binian", a mountain-y hill just north of the house. And it is north, I checked.
To get to the hill, we had to cross what appeared to be a field but was in actual fact a marsh. Everyone's shoes got pretty well soaked, Jessi went in up to her midcalf, Adam went in up to his knee, I did a hasty faceplant (the brunt was on my shins and my left glove; no facial or even torso contact with the ground), and Josie went in up to just above her ankle.
It was still a good time, and I have some great pictures.

View from the fence after we climbed up a path for about ten minutes. I don't think that the Irish Sea is in the background, but I could be wrong. I can't remember which way I was facing...

I liked the lone little shrub on the hill of grass and heather. And marsh.

We decided to aim for the dip, given that we started very late and the taller bit was completely covered with a cloud.

Adam and Jessi trying to avoid the stream.

Jessi got mad at me for that one, but it's not my fault she was in the frame... She was running to keep her feet from sinking into the ground.

Adam (back) and James (facing the camera) wore vans. The canvas kind. They did say that they don't have any hiking boots anyway, but still. 

All the white bits are water. The wet kind, not the snow kind that they look like in the picture.

James and Adam slogging. I think about twenty different routes to the base of the mountain were taken by the six of us over the half hour that it took to get from the gate to somewhere on the mountain.

Jessi in blue, Josie in pink, and I think that's Conor next to Josie.

The heather in the marsh was orange. I was impressed.

Heather over stream.

I thought that was a spring, and that it was all dry past that. Wrong! It was still pretty, though.

The red bits are soaking, the green bits are full of puddles, and the cream bits sink. Can't win. 

I guess it is pretty emerald under the scrub. Also, walls!

I always wonder what piles of rocks came from. I think I read too many westerns.

We were higher than we thought. I can see the house from here, but I don't know which speck it is.

I think this was of the big protrusion that I photographed earlier, when I wondered about big piles of rocks.

Looking up... fog.

Also up: Adam being a zen master. In Jessi's picture, he's got his thumbs up.

Why two? Cause it's pretty.

We had mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli and peas, and steak pie and chicken-ish pie for everyone but me, and quorn chicken in a vegetable gravy that I found in the cupboard for me. We also watched the (UK) X Factor (the cousin of American Idol and the older sibling of the american X Factor, and probably a relative of [Country]'s Got Talent) all day because it was Josie's birthday and the first round of the finals was on that night. Spoiler: for her birthday, her favourites both got through, and for the day after her birthday, her favourite favourite won.
Confession: I enjoyed watching and was excited when Little Mix became the first group to ever win X Factor, and the first girl group to ever be a serious competitor even though I haven't followed it at all and won't after this.
The only downside to the day, aside from widespread puddlefoot, was Jessi. I'm going to try not to go into detail, since I've already complained to pretty much everyone (sorry!), but she managed to be insulting to almost everyone and pick stupid arguments with everyone else. I do try to give her grace, since she's doing something that I have never done by going into a culture where no one speaks her native language, but it gets hard to stand down. I'm not the most graceful loser, and to end an argument with Jessi over opinion-based statements is pretty much to lose it, or at least have her feel that she's won. Which, of course, is chalked up by my brain as a loss, leading me to resent the fact that she doesn't seem to notice that she's doing this. She always laughs while she's telling you that what you would rather do in a totally hypothetical situation is flat-out wrong, and it tends to make me feel aggressive, which makes me nervous about having an honest-to-blog fight with her, because we do have a month and a half to go, and I don't want hostility. Besides, she's probably harbouring her own pet peeves about living with me, so I'll keep a lid on my irritation if she does.
Hey, lookit that! My "not going into detail" managed to be the longest paragraph in the whole post!
Josie and James had to leave the next morning, but Adam, Jessi, Conor, and I watched TV late into the night.

Sunday, Conor, Jessi, Adam, and I went to the Silent Valley park, which is apparently where the water in Belfast comes from. It was beautiful enough to overcome my frustrations with Jessi, and I was even in a good enough mood by the end of the loop to make a joke about her rhetorical question that I know the answer to without answering it and irritating her. I may turn into Sheldon from Big Bang Theory when people ask idle questions about science, but I'm working on not answering them if people don't request an answer. At least around Jessi, since she does it enough to annoy Conor, and I don't think my answering does anything to improve relations. Something about that glazed-over, vaguely annoyed look she gives me when I finish... (Was that sarcasm? It was?! I'm on fire tonight!)
Enough about Jessi. Here's pretty pictures!

The Bingian elementary school. Not a lot of kids in this area...

OMG Pwnies!

The walls were busy being built, I think. Either that or they were busy falling down.

Scrub.

Cool silhouette at Silent Valley.

It reminded me a lot of Muir Woods. The trees were smaller, but there was even a stream with a plaque on salmon spawning.

I took a water picture that turned out pretty!

It was prettier in real life... but this is pretty awesome, too. 

After we got back, we watched the final X Factor final while Conor and I made miscellany for dinner. We ended up having baked beans on baked potatoes, the potato and cheese thing that Conor's relative brought over, and the rest of the quorn chicken with peas and green curry sauce. It was pretty good, to my surprise (even though I made it. I don't trust curry, as a rule). Then we had mince pies for dessert, and they were incredible. I always suspected mincemeat of being full of meat (mince is british for ground meat), but it's actually all fruit. I even found a jar of mincemeat at Aldi, and it's got "suitable for vegetarians" on the label. I've got to say, that is one of my favourite things about this country. Vegetarians know what's what. Either that, or the government is tricking vegetarians into eating meat-based products for kicks. ...I still check ingredient lists, by the way.

Monday, we cleaned, made the beds, hid the TV, and headed to Belfast. We caught the bus just in time, and it was another double decker. Yes!
What I saw of Belfast was pretty nice. We ambled through a christmas market, which smelled amazing, didn't buy anything, lost Jessi, found Jessi, lost Conor, found Conor, lost Conor again, decided to leave, and found Conor. We were heading to St. Anne's Cathedral when Jessi got distracted by some fairy lights (which sounds way cooler than christmas lights) and we headed down a little shopping hallway. We were instantly drawn into a pub, where Adam and Conor worked on pints of Guinness for a while because it's supposed to taste better in Ireland. By the time we left, it had started raining hard, and we were hungry, so we ended up sitting in a cafe for a while longer. We had to get our bags from the welcome centre at 17:30, so we headed back there around 17:00, grabbed our bags, and headed to the bus station to catch the Belfast International Express (same one we took from the airport) by 18:00 so that we could catch our 20:25 flight. I was pretty bummed that we hadn't explored more city, and that it felt like we had spent more time sitting around than seeing Ireland, but it was okay.
Adam held us up through security. Tssk. He'd actually been expecting it, since his mild, quiet, unassuming, inoffensive demeanor tends to set off red flags for security at airports. He wasn't expecting his bag to be unpacked, but it seems that Newcastle airport has pretty lax security as far as liquids and aerosol cans go.
I did look out the window for this flight, but it was pretty boring since the sun was all the way down. I tried to doze, but I think the jet stream was in our favour, since the seatbelt sign was off just long enough for the drink cart to go around before we started our descent.
We took the metro home and waited on the train for about half an hour before it started, and I slept for a little while. I think we went straight to bed when we got home. It was a long trip, but a very good one.

Edinburgh — Friday 28 October to Monday 31 October

Friday was a day of sleeping in and moving slowly until about half an hour before it was time to catch the metro to Newcastle, where we would catch the Megabus to Edinburgh. In addition to frantic packing activities, Adam was missing. We decided that he could drive to Newcastle if he had to, and set off for the metro with way too much luggage. The best part was all the food that was being packed. Josie thought it was the funniest thing that Jessi was packing for the apocalypse for a four-hour endeavor, since she had to drive an hour and a half to get to the supermarket in her home, um, town.
When we got to the metro, Flo, Lisa, and Josie realised that they didn't have enough change for the fare (£3, and it has to be coins) and hurried over to the Aldi (right next to the station, but we were on the other side of the tracks) to buy something that cost less than £2.
While Jessi, Conor, and I were guarding the luggage (so much luggage!), Adam showed up to let us know that he couldn't come. He had a big project due for his film class (he ended up interviewing a DJ instead of a prostitute), and the main problem with it was his fault. There were many sad faces made by all parties.
After an unnervingly long time, Josie, Flo, and Lisa came running (and that's not hyperbole) down the stairs to the platform. They'd been stuck behind this guy with a trolley (cart) full of stuff who had refused to let three kids with one thing each go ahead of him. He took forever, and then he bought fireworks.
Geh. In any case, they made it with just enough time to buy tickets. The train came, we said good bye to Adam, and then we were off!
Flo brought out his food about two stops in. It takes about a minute and a half to go between stops in Sunderland.
We did get stuck at one station, but that was about five, maybe ten minutes of waiting.
Jessi brought out her food at that point. Josie made faces at them.
We finally got moving, and I understood why Adam thinks that the metro is populated entirely by sketchy people. It's a long train ride to Newcastle, and there are a lot of sketchy little stops along the way. In my limited experience, which is pretty limited to Sunderland, there's not a lot of open space in England.
There was enough open space between Sunderland and Newcastle to provide ample sketchy metro stops.
We made it to Newcastle, which is a rather pretty city that I'd like to spend time in not at the airport between 23:00 and 01:00, without being threatened by any of the metro regulars.
I didn't get to see any more of Newcastle than the metro and the very short walk from the station to the megabus stop allowed. We found our bus easily and boarded without incident.
I got an aisle seat, which was disappointing, because the countryside was very pretty. It got dark pretty quickly, and I spent about an hour in drooly snoozing that didn't leave me very rested. After that, I tried to stare out the windows at the dark landscape, but I was foiled by the shade on the windscreen (windshield) and the bald guy in front of me. I did see the Conan Doyle Tavern on the way in to Edinburgh, but that was about it.
There are so many castles and spires and the like in Edinburgh. It was incredible. In the dark, at least, it was beautiful. I was not expecting this. Big cities in the states are not considered beautiful, as a rule. Striking, sure, and occasionally intriguing, but rarely beautiful.
On the long walk to the hostel, we joked constantly about how this castle or that imposing building was actually the hostel, and learned that Josie's parents met at while staying at a hostel that was in a castle in Edinburgh. Her dad actually broke a hundred-year-old stained glass window when he and his friends got locked out. We also made fun of Flo, who griped the whole way about how hungry he was and how heavy his bag was (it held his and Lisa's clothes and was a duffel with no shoulder strap). Jessi borrowed Josie's rolling suitcase and rested her bag on it.
After arguing a little bit over which building was the Edinburgh Castle and which was the building that Flo was pointing at, we reached the Budget Backpackers hostel.

Hostel! The colours outside are pretty tame compared to inside.

We had a bit of a hard time explaining that we were missing on person, lowering our party count to six, and only four of us were staying for three days, and two of us were only staying for two days, but we all booked together. It was great. (Flo and Lisa had to go back for class on monday. Our megabus tickets got us back well before 6 PM, so I was fine for class)
Almost immediately after checking in, getting our bedding on, and ditching our luggage in the lockers, we set out in search of food. Flo was hungry, and the rest of us were starting to feel peckish as well.
We argued over whether we should try for Pizza Express or something cooler. We argued kind of a lot this trip...
We settled on The Castle Arms, a little restaurant on top of some shops. It was okay, but nothing to write home about.

Dinner. The better part was looking around the city, since the food was pretty "meh." 

I had "soup" that ended up being a vegetable stew-y sort of affair, while everyone else had a main course. I foresaw my eating habits in this. Yay, vegetarians! At least I have a valid excuse for avoiding haggis if it ever crosses my path.

After the castle arms, we ambled around the city. It was about 8PM at this point, I want to say, but the city was still nice to look at. We found a graveyard (which freaked Jessi out for some reason), and kept an eye out for tour guides with white facepaint and anachronistic clothes. I quickly determined that they were from the "Witchery Tours" across the street from where we ate, which I thought would be very interesting. They were very popular around Halloween, though, so I didn't bring it up to the others. There was no way we'd be able to afford it even if we managed to book a spot.

After lots of ambling, we ended up at a coffee shop that looked like it had cake, which Jessi was craving. It turned out to be The Elephant House, billed as the birthplace of Harry Potter.

Edinburgh is kind of obsessed. There's one shop that has a "JK Rowling was never in this shop" sign.

Apparently, Joanna (JK) Rowling had a bit of a rough start. She was a single mom without a steady enough job to pay for heat, so she took her kid(s) around to coffee shops where she could sit and write. I wasn't too impressed by Elephant House as a coffee shop. I suspect that they get by on their fame rather than their coffee. The mocha that I had made me tired, which was rather distressing.

After the Elephant House, we moved on to The Last Drop pub, which we later learned is where the condemned had their last glass of whiskey before being hung out in the Grassmarket. The Grassmarket was actually sort of across the street from the hostel.

The Last Drop tavern had several movie quotes. I took a picture of the Sean Connery one because he's Scottish. And Batman is in the picture, too.

 The Last Drop was really crowded, so it was also really warm. I dozed while waiting for everyone else to be ready to go, which was a little embarrassing. It was fine, though, since I was able to fall asleep pretty quickly once we did get back to the hostel. I felt a little sorry for our asian roommate, who was asleep before we got back around 11 PM.

No one really felt sorry for asian roommate when she woke everyone except me up at four in the morning moving out.
Saturday is the picture day. Edinburgh was even prettier in the daytime, and the whole city was like the cool walls that make me so ridiculously happy in Sunderland.
We had already decided to go on the free walking tour at 11 AM, so we ambled downstairs for breakfast at 10:30-ish. All the breakfast foods were overpriced, but I got a large bowl of greek yogurt with honey. It was delightful.
There were three or four other people on the walking tour, all from Holland. It was led by Will from Australia, who was traveling around Europe and decided to stay in Edinburgh about six months ago. I'm slightly jealous of the ability to pick up and just start life over in a new place.
Don't worry, mom and dad, I'm coming home in january. I want to do science (which I can't do if I get a degree from here) more than I want to go globe-hopping.
We started off by learning about Greyfriars Bobby, whose statue across the street from the Greyfriars Bobby Tavern that's right next to the entrance of Greyfriars Kirkyard (the cemetery we visited friday night) is the most photographed statue in Scotland. I took a picture of it, but it didn't turn out well enough for me to keep when I ran out of space on my camera.

So there was this policeman who had a dog, which was unexpectedly a skye terrier instead of some more terrifying breed. John the policeman and Bobby were an inseparable pair until John died, after which Bobby sat at his grave (in Greyfriars) every single day for, I believe, 16 years. Stray dogs weren't allowed in Edinburgh, so the people sent around a petition that basically elected Bobby to parliament. Since killing a member of parliament was illegal, Bobby was able to keep his vigil without worrying about having no owner. When he died, he got his own grave at the front of the cemetery, a statue across the street, and a pub named after him.  

Most haunted graveyard, thanks to the various epidemics that swept the british isles. 

Greyfriars has 400 headstones and about 400,000, um, occupants. It's on what is referred to as "the mound", which was actually created by the mass burials during plague and epidemic years. Lovely.

Here's the most haunted part of the most haunted graveyard: this row was a prison for the few thousand survivors of an assault on Edinburgh by the english. George "Bloody" Mackenzie was the guy in charge, and apparently he felt the need to teach the Scots a lesson. 100 were taken out and hanged all at once in the Grassmarket at the beginning, and the 700 or so who survived after several months of bad treatment were tortured. 

The single most haunted place in the graveyard: the tomb of George Mackenzie, the guy who masterminded the atrocities from the picture before this.

It was all so pretty...

"Worst thing that happened to Scotland"

 The Flodden Wall (FLOW-dn) was built by some Scottish king to keep the English out. It was a mile square, and it held the entire population of Edinburgh for way too long. Unfortunately, when the English came, no one was guarding the gate, so they just walked in. Oops.

Allegedly the place where Joanna Rowling first had the idea for Harry Potter when talking to a little boy about what they did in the building there.

Graveyards: beautiful. Also, that's Flo there in the foreground.

There were so many spires and steeples.

For any Harry Potter fans who read this blog: Tom Riddle's grave.

Edinburgh Castle. Pretty awesome.

The sun was shining from behind, so the lighting was almost surreal.

Either St. Augustine's or Greyfriars church.

So. Pretty.

National library. Huge. 

Apparently, it's great fun to watch drunk girls in high heels try to walk on cobblestones. 

Castle. That cliff is where they threw suspected witches into the lake that used to be there. If they hit a rock on the way down (likely), they weren't a witch and their soul went to heaven. If they drowned (very likely), they weren't a witch and their soul went to heaven. If they somehow managed to survive, they were a witch and were tortured to death.
In the words of Will the tour guide, "Basically, if you were accused of being a witch, you were in a whole s***load of trouble."

Princes gardens. Yes, that's grammatically correct. This is where the lake (which was full of non-witch corpses and nasty refuse from the city, hence the great soil that leads to gorgeous gardens today) used to be.

Monument to Sir Walter Scott.

Scott himself.

There's this weirdly modern section of the city. Most of it is awesome and old, but if you look between the two old buildings, there's a new, glass building. 

Some cool stuff. I never really figured out what they are, but it's pretty.

Will the tour guide from Australia. Also "Edinburgh's Disgrace" in the background.

Will again and Conor. I was aiming for the unfinished amphitheatre. Edinburgh was trying to promote itself as a centre for the arts, but they ran out of money. It was all a bit embarrassing, I gather.

That cool thing and also the whole city.

The city and the harbor. I'm not sure which body of water that is. I think the North Sea is nearby-ish.

I can't remember what it was called, but that's where they'd signal the ships to move out at 13:00 (1:00 PM) every day. Somebody would climb up and fire a rifle until the city started absorbing the noise; they put ip a white flag on the cross-looking thing up there. Also, Jessi in the foreground.

So much old stuff. 

Again with all the cool old buildings! So pretty!

...Mansion? Classic country estate looking place.

So cool.

Fancy hotel has a courtyard on top.

St. Giles. Next to the Scottish Parliament's headquarters, which used to be a prison.

I think someone's heart is actually in the middle there; I could be wrong. I kind of missed the first part of Will's explanation. It's the only place where it's legal to spit in Scotland, however, so we all spat and dodged the flying globs of saliva.

These are not TARDISes. But they almost are...

I have a thing for tall buildings. I think this one is the HUB, the only place where a parliament meets over a cafe. 

Just outside the hostel. Old wall!

Other side of hostel.

Arthur's Seat, the mountainy hilly thing that King Arthur allegedly climbed to look over Edinburgh. We climbed it, too. Well, we actually climbed the taller hill in the middle, but we were close enough.

Climbing Arthur's Seat.

A... house? 

Jessi in front, Conor to the side taking a picture, two random people, then Flo and Lisa. I think Josie was ahead of me.

That is a really bad place to have a house. No wonder it fell down.

Me on top of the world. If you embiggen (by clicking, I think; if that doesn't work, try right clicking and opening the image in a new tab) and highlight, you can see a non-edinburgh town about a million feet below me.

Everyone else: Conor, Josie, Flo, Jessi, and Lisa was behind me. Flo kept playing with the wind and jumping to see if it would carry him back. It did. It was so windy up there... 

What a view. Totally worth the brutal climb.

Another gorgeous view. The green stretch in the middle of the picture is the actual Seat; we went up to the taller part behind the Seat. 

After we climbed back down the Seat, Flo and Lisa went to sort out their train tickets back to Sunderland while the rest of us played hearts before ambling around again. We acquired two new roommates, an older guy who turned out to be from Ecuador and an even older guy who didn't speak english. Flo and Lisa got back before we did, and Flo planted a large fake spider in Jessi's bed. Jessi hates spiders.
It was hilarious.
I must be a very deep sleeper, because apparently the guy who doesn't speak english woke everyone else up at about 4 AM. This seems to be a common theme. Apparently, he was folding shopping bags for at least half an hour. Jessi asked him if he was done at one point, and he just said, "Hello." Jessi was not amused, and ranted later, when we were all awake, about how he could have said he was sorry, or that he didn't speak any english. I'm not sure where I developed my sense of sympathy for people who can't speak the language of the country they're in very well, since I've only been in El Salvador, and I picked up enough spanish to make my needs known or was around a translator who could help me. I think it very odd that Jessi, who is not speaking in her native language and who went to America with iffy english skills when she was in high school, is incredibly frustrated by people who don't speak english. I realised at about that point that I will probably not get along with Jessi at all by the end of november. Call it personality clash, culture shock setting in, or familiarity breeding contempt, but I will probably have an outburst when we move in on december. I planned to take steps to push this issue back as long as possible, and it might be that she's having culture shock. She's used to living at home, not having a roommate, and speaking in German all the time. I'm used to living in a dorm, cooking for myself, having a roommate, and speaking english. This is probably why she occasionally turns into a total monster. She's also unwilling to simply accept the suppositions of others, and vocalises any doubts she might have. This drives me crazy. I don't mind when she gripes about the dishes, or when she is irrational about bugs, or when she sounds angry over something little, like me being in the way of the microwave, or when she's really lazy and gets everyone else to get things for her... This turned into Watson's "I never complain" rant (starts at 49 seconds) from the Sherlock Holmes movie, which has a SEQUEL coming out!

Sunday, we mostly slept in (after the noisy packer debacle), and I can't really remember what we did. Flo and Lisa checked out, and I think this is the day that we went shopping. I got yarn for Mom, some postcards, and some "Traditional Scottish Tea" in a cool box. I was hoping for a nifty scarf, or some other touristy thing, but there was nothing I liked enough to justify spending the money on it.
We had Pizza Express for dinner, and it was okay. The best part were the "dough balls" (like small round breadsticks) with nutella. So good.
We had three new roommates when we got back, a couple and their third wheel. There were a few awkward moments there, but they were polite enough and didn't wake us up at crazy early in the morning.

Monday was fine. We caught the bus back with no trouble, other than Jessi insisting upon asking the drivers where they were going instead of reading the sign on the bus and on the gate, which I told her about (eye twitch) and being sent back into the nasty, hot, smelly bus station because our bus wasn't loading yet. For the ride back, I got the window, which soothed my irritation with Jessi, and I watched the countryside amble past.
After a lengthy search of the train station for a bathroom, we bought our tickets for the metro, which were oddly small. Jessi, of course, had to make sure that they were proper and not invalid in some way instead of simply confirming that everyone else had the same thing, since we all used different machines. Not that I'm bitter. Anyway, the rest of the way home was uneventful, and my post-journey endorphines saved the day by making me essentially forget any frustrations for a few hours. It was good to get back to Sunderland.

Also, the time changed. I think it was Saturday night.