Freiburg im Breisgau

Today is my first day in Freiburg, Germany. I'm here to visit my friend and water polo teammate Andrew from Pomona. He is more commonly known as the Champ, because he's a champ. So, I flew to Frankfurt last night and took a train in the wee hours of the morning to Freiburg. Here's how it went down:

The flight from Edinburgh to Frankfurt was a breeze. Flying out of Edinburgh is a little bit like flying out of Ontario. There were essentially no lines for anything and I had plenty of time to kill at the airport. I bought Thomas Friedman's "Hot, Flat, and Crowded" and started in on it while I was traveling and waiting. Turns out, Champ is reading it, too. Anyway, once I got to the Frankfurt airport, I scoped out the train station situation and got completely comfortable with my train itinerary (2:05 AM departure from regiobhf track 2). I found the platform and everything, and then I went upstairs again to kill four hours in the airport. This was exceedingly boring, and I got a headache just sitting there and reading under the bright airport lights. When the waiting was done, I headed downstairs to catch the train. There were probably twenty people on the platform who shared in my despair when the announcement was made that our train would be 90 minutes late. The announcements in the train terminal are not made in English following the German. So, this very nice woman helped me out. She even got out here English-German dictionary to look up the word "breakdown". So, we stood there with our translation guides in hand and tried to communicate. It didn't go too well, but the process was enjoyable. It's lucky that she had been there because I would have been going nuts without the information she gave me. I was sitting on a bench when the delay was announced. I had my hands on my head and my left leg crossed over my right knee. A small German boy wearing a light blue down jacket, probably six years old, walked up to me and put his hands on his head. He was pretty intent on mimicking my posture. I laughed, and he was clearly encouraged. Next, he picked up his leg and crossed it over his other leg (with his knee bent at 90 degrees). I was impressed with his balancing ability. Next, I picked up both legs and pointed them staight at him. He did the only thing one can do in this situation, and that is to leap into the air and quickly kick both of his legs in my direction before returning to the ground. At this point, I knew I was dealing with a pro, so I started making weird facial expressions and pulling on my ears and stuff, and he did it all. This was a real crackup, and it came at a really good time because I was starting to get really tired. This was at about 2:00 AM, mind you.

I went back upstairs to the giant airport lounge region where they have a bunch of reclined chairs for people who have to spend the night in the airport. Having already spent some time in one of those, I decided to sit at the bar/restaurant at the center of the lounge because it was more comfortable. I ate one of my granola bars. Then, an older man told me that I would need to buy something from the bar if I wanted to sit there. So, I panicked a little as I realized that I know basically no German words for liquids. At that point, however, I remembered a scene from freshman year (possibly OA, even) that featured Martha and Jon Kadish going over the German word and pronunciation for orange juice. So, I went to the bar and ordered an orangensaft. This apparently worked.

I went back down to the train platform at about 2:50 AM and waited once more for the broken down train. Finally, at about 3:20, it became clear that the train was approaching. This was also the point at which the top-secret announcements about Freiburg began to be spoken in German over the loudspeaker. The train was scheduled to terminate in Basel, but they kept making announcements about Freiburg. This worried me greatly. Basically, what I could hear was something like, "blah blah blah Freiburg. Blah Freiburg blah blah blah. Blah blah, blah Freiburg blah blah blah Freiburg." I took this to mean one of two possible situations. The first and most worrisome goes something like, "Because the train is so late, it will no longer be stopping in Freiburg. If you want to get to Freiburg, you need to...". This scared me. The other possibility was that the train would no longer be going all the way to Basel, but would instead terminate in Freiburg. I was freakin out.

In any event, the train came and I got on and everything worked out ok. I hailed a cab in front of the train station in blah blah blah Freiburg and it took me to Champ's flat. In fact, I've been here for about 12 hours by now. I got in at 6:30 AM or so.

That is the story of the first leg of this trip. So, any of you who say that my worries about travel going wrong are unfounded in any way, take this as an example of how something always goes wrong for me. In fact, while I was sitting in the airport, I began to think about my various excursions this semester. Turns out, of the 6 significant trips I've taken, only 2 of them have not featured significant delays that have made me super nervous. Think Iceland detour, Newcastle suicide, Lancaster water polo trip timing belt disaster, and Bahn breakdown. That's not even counting the Firbush bus breakdown. Awesome. I think I have every right to expect the worst. I am proud to say that while I was at the Frankfurt airport, though, I used Rick Steves' method of changing your expectations. Instead of expecting the train to arrive at 2:05, I just expected it to come at 3:35. And it did.

What do the following statements have in common?

I find traveling in unknown territory by myself to be very relaxing.
I always feel like I can rely on public transportation to get me where I need to be when I need to be there.
I like the thrill of staying up for 24 hours straight.
I speak and understand German well enough to navigate transportation crises.
At least I don't spend loads of time and energy worrying and thinking of every possible worst-case scenario.
I won't be needing a haircut soon.



Answer: They're all false.


Champ and I just went to downtown Freiburg and he gave me the grand tour. We had kebabs at his favorite place. He just went off to his 6:00 class, so I stayed behind to write emails. He's also going to go to water polo, but since I didn't bring my suit I'm going to remain here until about 9:30 or so. Then, I plan on meeting him downtown and we'll do something fun, I guess. His flat is pretty far east of the city center, so we have to ride the tram. The weather today has been really nice. It's probably 65 degrees with a gentle breeze and good sunshine.

I'm pretty excited about the trip. Our plans include 3 days in Stuttgart, 4 days around Bodensee, and a two-night trip to Paris at the tail end. I will do my best to update the blog with the latest happenings.

Wish us luck!

p.s. Sorry I don't have any pictures yet. They're coming, I promise.

Royal Botanic Gardens

Here are some photos from my trip to the Royal Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh. Further explanation can be found below. Click on any of the photos to enlarge them. The one above has an ant on it. I didn't realize this when I took the photo. Cool, eh?



This is a slipper orchid, I believe. It's called that because the labellum (bottom part) is shaped like a slipper. Did you know that there are over 55 billion species of orchid? Actually, I think it's 25,000, but still impressive. The audio tour was pretty neat. Parts of it used the voices of experts and were in sort of an interview form. So, when the interviewer asked the orchid expert if all orchid species were attractive, the man replied, "No, some of them are hideously ugly!" Who knew?



I think that most of the flowers that look like this are called Cymbidium, or "Tiger Tail". I think I liked them the best.



Recently I mentioned to my mom that the weather here has become very nice and that flowers were blooming in George Square. She requested that I take some photos of these flowers because "Francesca and I like that sort of thing". Well, instead of just going to Geroge Square to get some flower shots...

Oh man! I went to the Royal Botanic Gardens and they were AWESOME! The place is huge, and I literally got lost within it (In a good way). I intended to go along the Water of Leith as well, but I was so pleased with the gardens that i spent the entire afternoon there. I took loads of pictures that will be up on facebook shortly.

The trip began around 1:00 this afternoon. I left my flat and walked north across Princes Street and up Hanover. After a few street name changes (of which they are quite fond here... It would be tough to organize any type of mobile riot or demonstation here, I think) and about twenty or thirty minutes on foot (mind you this is my foot speed, so divide by 1.5 to figure out how long it would take you) I found the place. I didn't really know what to expect, but what I found exceeded what I had been imagining. Not everything was blooming (in fact, most of it wasn't), but it was really neat to be in a place that was so carefully prepared by people who are really interested in the biology and the aesthetics of the plants. A lot of people thought and worked really hard to make that place, and I got to enjoy it for free (unless you count airfare and living expenses and university tuition, but it's not like those add up to much, right?).

I didn't realize until I ran into them, but the gardens also boast a number of big greenhouses. This was probably the coolest part. That's probably why you have to pay 3 pounds to get in to them. There were all sorts of cool plants and smells and more smells and humidity and odors and stenches and plants and smelly plants and smells. I took many pictures of these plants and I've attached some of them to this blog. The rest will go on facebook, I suppose.

I left the gardens at about 4:45 and walked the two miles home. My feet hurt now, but it was worth it.

Name that film: "These guys can honk all they want, but I ain't going faster than 12. It might take us around three hours to get home."

Whenever I'm having an exceptionally good day, I like to get some Kebab Mahal to top it off. So I did that as well. My lamb bhuna is calling me.

Robbie

Stirling, Rugby, Water Polo

It has been way too long since I last wrote. I have a lot to catch up on, and I'll do my best to remember what I've been up to over the last three weeks.

On a Friday a few weeks back, my friends Emily, Jon, and Steven (I think that's his name) took the train to Stirling for the day. We went to Stirling Castle and the Wallace National Monument (as in William "Gromit" Wallace) and they were both very cool. The castle was my favorite to date, though it has since been overtaken by Beaumaris Castle in Anglesey. More on that later. The Wallace National Monument was also cool, though the single super narrow spiral staircase that was used for both ascending and descending was a little bit scary. The highlight of the Monument visit was surely seeing the bust of Anaheim Ducks enforcer George Parros prominently displayed alongside those of William Wallace, Robert the "Isaac" Bruce, and others (see the photo. It's actually a bust of Robert the Bruce, but apparently they used Parros as the model for it).
Here are some more photos from Stirling:

Left: Castle. Right: Wallace Monument



On the next day, called Saturday, Emily and I took the bus to Murrayfield Stadium for the Six Nations Rugby matchup between Italy and Scotland. This was essentially the battle for last place in the tournament, so there was a lot at stake. Scotland won, though the game was sloppy (even I could tell). It was really fun to be a part of the mass exodus from the city center to the stadium and the atmosphere was great. There were loads of bagpipers along the road playing away and kilts were worn by many.

I had to leave the game about ten minutes early so that I could make it to a bus that would take me to Waverly train station. I had to catch a train down to Birmingham for a water polo tournament in Walsall (just north of Birmingham). I was, as I often am, super anxious about the whole procedure, but it worked out fine. My train was stuck in Newcastle for about an hour due to a fatality incident on the track between Newcastle and Durham (I believe). So, I got to Birmingham too late to catch the commuter train to Walsall and was forced to take a taxi. I got to our accomodations at about 1:30 AM.

The tournament was the semi-final round of the British Universities and Colleges Sport (BUCS) water polo championships. We played Sheffield, Cambridge, and Cardiff, and won the first two of three. This was enough for us to advance to the final round (which was last weekend). Walsall was depressing.

That's all I've got for now. I'll have to cover Wales and more water polo next time.

wales

Tomorrow morning, I leave for Wales on a train leaving Waverly at 6:52 AM. When I get back, I'll have lots to write about and I'll catch up on my visits to Stirling, a Scotland rugby match, and Birmingham for a water polo tournament. Sorry I haven't been able to write much lately. Expect an outpouring next week.

Edinburgh From Holyrood Park

Here's a video from up on the hill.

Arthur's Seat

No, I'm not talking about the episode of the ever-popular PBS program "Arthur" in which Francine tries to take Arthur's seat. Today, I went out to see Scottish Parliament and ended up walking around Holyrood Park, home of Arthur's Seat. This installment will focus on photographic evidence of my day, as I am not entirely thrilled at the prospect of writing too much.

So... Parliament. It was closed, so I couldn't go inside. The outside was neat, though.

Note: The flags in this photo are conspicuously still. Today was easily the nicest day of the new year in Edinburgh. It must have been easily over 50 degrees (maybe even 60 once the sun came out. yep... the sun). The sun came out once I was about half-way up the hill. More on that later.

So, I hiked up the hill and took lots of photos overlooking Parliament, Calton Hill, the Castle, the Firth, and other various landmarks. When I began, the clouds had begun to peel away across the Firth of Forth and I was very lucky to have found myself at the top just as the sun landed upon the city of Edinburgh. Of all the people I could have asked to take my photo, of course I approached the ONE who spoke very little English. I had been passing loads of Scottish people who were totally viable candidates. Nope. I chose the other guy. He was great, though. A dog jumped up on me. It was a chocolate lab puppy, so it was ok. Probably the best-looking dog I've seen besides Danny-son.

I also took some video, so hopefully I can attach that here:

Girly MAN MAN MAN MAN!

And now for something completely different. If you haven't seen this already, it's well worth it, I'd say. My flatmates and I really get a kick out of it. If you don't think it's funny, I dare you to watch it 5 times through. It gets funnier for me every time.

Ok. This is a clip from a Tollywood film (like Bollywood, but in Telegu language I guess). Somebody has simply taken the sounds from the scene and inserted English subtitles based on those sounds. The words aren't as funny as the dancing, if you ask me. Follow the link and enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDKcevMFUCo

Colin

To get an idea of what Colin (see 2 posts down) is like, picture King Theoden from Lord of the Rings (just as he is being exorcised by Gandalf) and then add Treebeard's voice. Colin = #1.

Keys to the Game

The Sharks lost what sounded and looked like a pretty bad game. And I lost my keys. I had just gotten back to Darroch Court from the library when I reached into my pocket only to find that my keys were absent. So, I walked 15 minute back to the library and looked in all the likely places and talked to all the people at all the various desks. But they did not turn up. So, I walked back to my room in defeat. I buzzed the my flat and Sam let me in. While climbing the stairs, I began to wonder if I had even brought my keys with me to class and the library in the first place. Sure enough, my room was unlocked and my keys were on my desk. Phew. That would have cost me a significant chunk of change if I had in fact lost them. So, I had a great day, all things considered.

Here's a bonus photo from the highlands. This is the town of Breadalbane. I took the photo from the first concrete bridge ever built in Scotland... or Europe... or something significant like that. Eh, what the heck. I'll throw in a photo of the bridge, too.
And why not another? Note the motorbike duo.
And last one: you should be able to click on them to enlarge them. That's Ben Lawers across Loch Tay. Can you spot the highland cows?

Firbush Point Field Center

Over Valentine's Day weekend, I went with a group of about thirty American students up to the University's Firbush Point Field Station on Loch Tay. It's about a two hour drive up to the Loch, which is northwest of Edinburgh. We left on Friday evening, and returned on Sunday night. I must say that having spent a month with Scottish students almost exlusively, it was a real shock to be immersed in a pool of Americans again.

Above all, it made me realize two things. First, it made me really appreciate how great my flatmates are. I lucked out to be placed with these guys because a) they're all British and b) they're really good flatmates. I think that most of my fellow American students have found themselves in flats with at least one other American (some with a majority of American flatmates, even). This is not to suggest that I don't like American students, but I think my situation has really forced me to involve myself more fully in what it is like to be a student at a Scottish University.


Second, the notable dearth of top-notch females made me realize that I have been spoiled my whole life by the exceptional quality of the women to whom I have been exposed. Mom, aunts, grandmothers, and mom's closest friends have established a standard that I don't think many girls can stand up to. And this disparity can not be accounted for simply by age differences alone, as I certainly know one college girl in particular who is most excellent... I'll come back to that. The point is, this excursion, which featured about a 4:1 female to male ratio, has made me really thankful that I know such cool gals.

I should note here that I did like quite a few people on the trip, and we got along just fine.

Ahem. So, the trip itself was awesome. The highlands are beautiful and we did some really fun activities. On Saturday, we hiked (or hillwalked, as they say) for the entire day. My group began in Balquhidder, which is home to the grave of Rob Roy (see photo). We did not realize at the time that the name of the town would be so appropriate for the day's events. You'll see why.

We toured the graveyard and the nearby church before departing up the hill. The going was moderate until we hit the proper snowline, then it became moderately challenging, I would say. People were slipping frequently, but our 76-year old guide, Colin Crookshank(s), pushed on undeterred. This man was a true champ, and I admire him very much. We got to the summit only to find that there was basically no way we were going to go down the other side (you see, the two groups had begun at opposite ends of this trail and were going to exchange bus keys at the summit). So, we turned back and went back down to Belquhidder, where we received a quitter's welcome. It was a really fun hike in the snow. We were all wearing gaiters and sturdy boots and everything. Unfortunately, we were enshrouded in infamous Scottish mist almost the whole time, so we missed out on what we were promised were spectacular views of the highlands. Great day nonetheless.

That evening, we partook in a traditional Burns Supper. We were really lucky to have Colin, who addressed the haggis, and an older gentlemen who played the bagpipes for the evening's activities. This man, it turns out, is the president of the Scottish Bagpipes Association, so he was pretty rubbish. Psyche. After the meal, we all took part in a ceilidh in the dining room. It was ultra triumphant. Bob, another instructor of about 55 years, taught us numerous Scottish ceilidh dances and everybody was up for a good time. I was really impressed that nobody held back. Bagpipes were played. Colin delivered a biting poem that he had written about the vegetarian haggis to which many Firbush visitors limit themselves. It was very funny, as Colin is a wonderfully animated story teller (reminds me of Poppo in many ways).

After the dancing was complete, some time was allotted for people to recite poetry or sing songs that they knew. This part didn't go as well, as it was dominated by a pair of students who are studying in Aberdeen. The girl made me particularly unhappy. She thought, for some strange reason, that this would be a good time for her to break out some musical theater. I'm talking tunes from Rent and such. What compels a person to sing musical theater immediately after the president of the Scottish Bagpipes Association pours his heart into the third set of pipes that he brought along? This could have been an SNL sketch, and luckily the girl next to me was similarly amused/dismayed and we did the classic eye contact followed by the "is this really happening?" face multiple times per minute.

This girl's terrible taste coupled with her commitment to the Nasonex School of Song made me really miss Martha and her voice. Sheesh.

So anyway...

The next day we were given the choice of a few activities. Among them were kayaking, mountain biking, orienteering, canoeing, road biking, or an Historical Tour of Loch Tay led by Colin. Obviously I did the historical tour. I figured I can do these other activities elsewhere, but nowhere else can I get a tour of Loch Tay with Colin Crookshank. He had proven his vast knowledge and storytelling abilities the day before, but he really kicked it up a notch for the historical tour.

There is way too much to try to describe in this blog, so I'll have to be selective. We went around the entire Loch, stopping along the way at significant sites and often walking up the hills to see certain things. At one point, Colin decided that we needed to see the MacNab family graveyard which is located on an island in the middle of a river and is only open to the public in the summer. So, he said, "we'll need to climb a sort of wall to get inside, but I'll show you the proper technique." 76. When I get back, remind me to tell you all about the MacNab v. MacNish royal rumble smackdown.

We also saw a 5,000 year old stone circle. Nobody knows for sure, but most scholars agree that the stones were built for the sheep to play hide-and-go-seek. The other widely held belief is that the stones constituted the legs of one of those big trampolines. It was likely disassembled when Smooth John MacNab accidentally knocked his two front teeth out on its rim. One thing is for sure, however, and that is that this stone circle was the architectural inspiration for the Drop Zone ride at "Paramount's Great America" in Santa Clara.

Ok. One more thing from the tour. We went to a cave on the South side of the Loch that was used in a famous comedy film of British origin. Can anybody guess the film? Here's a photo.

I'll Buy You a Kabab

If Nicolson St. is College Ave., then Kabab Mahal is Naan 'n' Curry. In between classes today, I ventured into a small, crowded restaurant in Nicolson Square. The place is called Kabab Mahal, so how could I pass it up? Those of you who know Naan n Curry in Berkeley, be happy for me, for I have just come across its sister eatery in Edinburgh. The places are remarkably similar in style. Unfortunately, KM doesn't feature any hanging paper ornaments or Indian hip-hop.

Because there is limited seating and the place was pretty full, I decided to squeeze into a table at which a middle-aged Scottish couple were already enjoying their curry. You'll have to trust me when I say that this maneuver was not entirely inappropriate given the crowd and the seating arrangement. So, having ordered some chicken dhal and a piece of naan, I cozied up next to the male component of this couple and was prepared to mind my own business. However, to my surprise and enjoyment, the couple was extremely willing to chat and we ended up having a really nice time. They very much reminded me of my parents, and it was a real treat to sit with them. They like Kabab Mahal so much that they drive into Edinburgh from 10 miles away just to have lunch at this place (sound familiar?).

So, I'm really glad that I found a cheap, most excellent, laid-back, friendly, convenient place to get Indian food. One of my top goals for this semester has been fulfilled, and will continue to be fulfilled every Thursday between classes until I am filled full.

In other news... Last night, Jim, Hanif, and I walked up to Jekyll and Hydes (a bar just north of princes st.) and indulged in their "seven deadly sins" cocktails that Tommy and aunt Amy had enjoyed when they were in town in 2004 (right?). I got "pride" and "envy", and my friends each got "wrath" and "sloth". They were ultra good. One fun feature of this bar is its hidden bathroom doors. I guess the toilet is meant to be like the secret hideout, so its doors look like bookshelves (see photo). You actually have to guess which one is for men. It's the one on the right.

jim

You know how it's pretty much accepted that people tend to want things more when they know they can't have them? Well, my flatmate Jim has become a true night owl. He has been getting up around 10 PM most days, and he goes to bed before noon. My other flatmate, Hanif, and I have come to realize that Jim's inaccessibility has made us really want to hang out with him because we know that we can't. Man, Jim is so cool.

cheese blog

What a beautiful day in Edinburgh. The sun is out, the people are out, and it's about 40 degrees out. I had a very enjoyable morning and early afternoon. First, I went to my environmental politics tutorial. This past week, we were asked to observe the ways in which the media shape our understanding of environmental issues. So, I chose a piece from a 2007 New York Times series about China and the environment called "Choking on Growth". My partner, a girl from Evanston, Illinois (who interestingly attends northEASTERN), approved this selection, then promptly forgot about the assignment. I showed up 20 minutes before class to discuss our presentation plans, but she didn't show up until 5 minutes into class. She apologized to the professor, who remarked, "it's ok. you keep getting here earlier and earlier every week!" which is true. So, I gave our brief presentation all by my lonesome. It turned out to be fine. No big deal at all. While other groups were presenting, I wrote down notes about the article so my partner could get up to speed. Anyway, boring story, right? I'll add some details that might improve it. First off, my partner came into the room and promptly tripped over another student. She nearly fell down, but managed to catch herself by sprinting forward until she regained balance. For this maneuver, she needed to use the entire center space of our seminar room like a runway. I hope you can picture this, as it was very funny, then instantly very uncomfortable for the whole class. So, she sat next to me and said something like, "hey. so, i've pretty much screwed you over. i haven't even read the article. i thought today was yesterday." I wonder what she did yesterday.



Last night I made a plan for today so that I would be sure not to waste it. So, after tutorial, I marched up the royal mile and stopped at a cafe called "Always Sunday" (this is the one that I have been meaning to go to). I had a slice of banana bread with cranberries and a cappuccino. The cappuccino was separate from the banana bread. I staked out a window seat and watched people walk up and down the street. There were three red phone booths outside the window, and I enjoyed observing people taking pictures of them. I also recognized those people who clearly wanted to take pictures of them, but who were too concerned about looking touristy. They basically all take the same route. They approach the booth, slow down, look around and make a face as if they are thinking really hard about something, sometimes stop completely, then continue on as if they had figured out what they were thinking about. I know this technique because I invented it.

http://www.alwayssunday.co.uk/

After about 30 minutes in the cafe, I kept going west along high st. until I reached some other street. So, I took a left. Then I turned right onto Victoria and sniffed my way into I J Mellis, Cheesemonger. This was my main goal for the day. The two gentlemen who were working today were very helpful and up for a chat. One was a local in his mid-twenties, and the other was from Mississippi originally, had lived in Portland for seven years, and was probably in his mid-thirties. I was the only person in the shop for most of my twenty minute stay. I read a review about the place that said that the employees insist that you try everything, and when you're the only one there, that's definitely true. So, we talked about SCUBA diving while they gave me the tour of the shop. Right off the bat, I told them that I had 10 pounds to spend on cheese, and I think that took the vendor-consumer tension out of the equation. They set me up with three cheeses. The first is the younger cheesemonger's favorite of all time. It's called Strathdon, and it's a creamy blue from Scotland that I am very excited about. The second is called Clava Brie, and it is also from Scotland. Ben (the cheesemonger) recommended that I wait a few days to let this one mature a little more. Of course. What else would I do? Did he think I was going to eat it now, while it's clearly still so immature? Yeah right. Psh. Uh, and the last one is an Irish cheese from western Cork, I think. It's called Ardrahan, and it's apparently cold smoked. I don't know what that does, but who cares, it was hecka good! It's soft and rich, and the inside is a little bit chalky. I love the texture of this one the best, and I predict that it will be my favorite of the three. So, like we do with the Cheeseboard in Berkeley, I asked Ben to write the names of the cheeses on their wrappers, and I will continue to sample whatever I can while I'm here. Hey family, maybe bring a list of these cheeses to the Cheeseboard and see if they've got any. Who knows, right?

Lancaster

This photo is the such-and-such hotel in Edinburgh. It is completely unrelated to this post, but it's good, I think. Fun fact: Because of the hotel's proximity to Waverly Train Station, its clock is always set 3 minutes fast (except on new year's eve) so that people make their trains.

Very briefly...

It takes three hours to get to Lancaster from Edinburgh. About two hours in, one of our cars broke down on the highway in the middle of nowhere. So, we all convened on the side of the road to decide how to proceed. Since we didn't have the space to take everybody the rest of the way, we had to leave 2 players, including our only goalie, on the highway in the freezing, windy Scotland (almost certainly England by this point) weather.

We won the game by a score of about 14-1. I was able to contribute offensively and defensively, but the highlight was the opportunity to play goalkeeper for the 2nd half. I allowed zero goals in my University of Edinburgh goaltender debut, and of that I am very proud. The other team had a strategy and they executed it efficiently and consistently. Apparently, their offensive plan was to hold the ball on the perimeter, look to the side of the pool pointedly (so as to deceive the goalie into ignoring them), and then throw it at medium speed right at the keeper's face. They were very good at this, and it took some serious self-defense to keep the ball out of the cage.

Alright, forget the "very briefly" thing from earlier. I can't stop now.

Water polo here is very physical. The referees have no idea what water polo is, apparently, so they call it like you might call a pro wrestling match. as in, not at all really. This surprised me at first. But, once I got put into my third consecutive headlock at 2-meters without the referee taking noticed, I began to catch on. So, I made good use of the patented Joel McKown "double foot blast" on many occasions (every possession change) to the apparent dismay of the crowd.

The Lancaster pool is 25 m long, 6 lanes wide, and 1m deep at the shallow end. I'm not used to playing in a shallow end. The water literally did not reach the top of my suit when i stood up. You're not supposed to stand on the bottom, but it can't be avoided, so refs are apparently fairly relaxed about it. Except for 2 times. The first time, I was still playing in the field, and I turned a guy from the low wing standing up. I didn't mean for it to be an effective offensive play. I just wanted to embarrass him because he kept pulling my suit WAY up. So that was called an offensive. The second time, I went for an assist from the goal. Antonio, a big italian man from malawi, had swum his way all the way in front of their goal, so I hit him with a pass. Unfortunately, he went for the emphatic finish by leaping off the bottom to catch the pass and slam it home. He ended up looking a tad like free willy and was called for his offense.


Well, thanks for all the advice about getting out there and making the best of doing things by myself. Jennie, my aunt Amy actually gave me a book propper-upper and page holder-opener for my b-day or x-mas a couple of years back. At the time, she made it seem as though it was meant for studying purposes. Now, I realize that it was intended to allow me to eat all the ribs I want when I'm out by myself in Edinburgh. Amy really does think ahead, I guess. Hello! so do YOU. Al paca socks!

Robbie

As ordered, by the doctor

I had a really enjoyable night. Two phd students from my polo team, kirk and antonio, and antonio's girlfriend, Alex, and I went out to a pub for some drinks and some lively conversation. It was the perfect solution to my worries about not having people to do things with. We had lots of fun and lots of laughs.

We went to a place called Jekyll and Hyde's. It's just north of Princes St. The coolest part is that the bathrooms are hidden like a secret hideout. You seriously have to push your way through a faux bookcase to get in there. My friends knew that I wouldn't be able to find it, so Alex escorted me to the shelf. Very kind.

I told everyone about extreme ping pong. I think they enjoyed it.

We talked a great deal about water polo, as my tomorrow is my "debut" against Lancaster. We've never played them before, but the team is very confident that we will handle our business down there. We'll hope for the best.

Wish me luck.

Robbie

Giles Cathedral

I went to Giles Cathedral today. It's on the royal mile. Sadly, I did not have my camera with me, as this was an unplanned visit. The cathedral was a real beaut. I was struck, however, by the number of war memorial "tablets" on the walls. It seemed as though the entire north wall was covered with them, and much of the stained glass depicted battle scenes that commemorated particularly dead individuals and groups. Seeing all of these images made me consider the extent of British involvement in international (and domestic, for that matter) fighting. There were tablets commemorating fallen soldiers from the Boer Wars in S. Africa, the Great War, India, the "international occupation of Crete", and many others. What a list.

One problem that I've been having is that almost everything I do outside of my flat I do by myself. It doesn't bother me to do certain things alone. I enjoyed being in the Cathedral very much, despite my lack of companionship. But, it does become a problem when I am walking around and see a nice place to stop for a drink, perhaps some carrot cake, not a panini, and I find that I don't always have the will to go it alone. This is really too bad because I think one of Edinburgh's strengths is its pub and cafe-type places.

My flatmates, who I like very much (probably the most out of the people I've met here), are not interested in going out for lunch or coffee. Maybe I should make friends with some old ladies who have a consistent schedule for tea or some old men who go out to the pub regularly. Or maybe I should always have a crossword puzzle with me so that I can look studious if I go into a place solo.

I bought two books from the oxfam store yesterday. "Twelve Modern Scottish Poets" and a gruesome mystery called "Quite Ugly one Morning". I don't think I'll continue the mystery. It's too gross for me. Plus, I've got relevant, quality literature from the Christmas season that I can turn to. The poetry is really nice, from what I can tell. It seems more real than a lot of poetry I've seen (and disliked).

Last night, I was feeling like I had wasted the day. So, mindful of Uncle Jack's enjoyment of "just walking around", I decided to go for a walk. I started down the royal mile and stopped at the Oxfam there. Once I had my books, I kept going west until I ran into some street that curved north and then west again. Then, since I had no idea where that was going, I went up an alley of stairs that must have constituted a 2,000-ft elevation gain and was back on the royal mile. I kept going that way until I found Victoria St. This street contains many restaurants that I had noticed in my guidebooks and so I went by to check them out. Sure enough, the Indian place that had sounded really good HAD burned down in December of 2008. I had read something to that effect, but was hoping that it wasn't true. Anyway, I went by the cheesemonger shop right at 6:00 PM as the woman was shutting the place down for the night. I could smell it from about 4 shops down. A return trip is imminent. But who will go with me? perhaps... JIM.

At this point, I continued along Victoria St. until I hit the grassmarket. It was cool, but then I got all turned around and didn't know which way I wanted to go, exactly. So, I just followed the biggest flow of pedestrians wherever they went. It was mostly business people getting off work, and I figured they would be going somewhere central. It's impossible to use landmarks as reference points on some streets because the buildings are high on either side. Otherwise I could have just found the castle and gone from there. So, I walked and walked with the flow of pedestrians until the castle and princes st. came into view. In the end, I had walked all the way around the west end of the castle. Then, I got to walk ALL the way down Princes St. In fact, I passed 3 Carphone Warehouses and 2 Gap stores along that street. I went into stores and looked at stuff along the way. Mostly, I was thinking about gifts that I could get people back home. You'll all be pleased to know that I bought nothing. I am crippled sometimes by an inability to make decisions. So, I'll keep thinking about who should get what. Maybe I'll make a list to ensure that I don't make any mistakes. Everyone's getting plaid.

Wait. I did buy myself a t-shirt and a scottish flag. I put the flag on my wall to add some flavor to the room. It's pretty bland otherwise.

Jim and I went to the store last night. We both got every flavor of instant noodles (top ramen) so that we can eat them together and decide which are the best. So far, curry is my favorite, but beef and shrimp haven't had their chance yet.

Planes, Trains, and Iceland

Iceland is just as I thought it would be: flat, dark, and riddled with airport equipment.

My flight to Frankfurt was interrupted due to a medical emergency. Someone (apparently in first class) had to be evacuated from the aircraft. Unfortunately, the Atlantic is made of water. But Iceland is not. It is a land mass. So we stopped there. I think this was about 8 hours into what should have been a 10 hour flight.

I had chosen my flight based on the fact that I would have plenty of time to catch my connecting flight to Edinburgh. I didn't want to have to rush at the Frankfurt Airport since that's in Germany, where they speak an unintelligible form of English called German. I don't speak it.

The Iceland detour caused basically everybody to miss their connections. The scene at Frankfurt was hectic. Eventually, however, I was put on a Lufthansa flight to Heathrow and a BMI flight to Edinburgh. Woohoo Star Alliance. In the end, my trip took about 24 hours instead of 14. But it was definitely worth it. After all, I got to see the famous Icelandic airport night shift workers in action.

Planes, Trains, and the German Woman in Seat 54C

The highlight of international travel is the flying. This is especially true if you are lucky enough to find yourself in economy class, and even more true if your flight features "complications" of any sort. During my flight from SFO to Frankfurt, I took notes in a moleskine in order to keep my mind sharp so I wouldn't miss a single round of drink service.

The flight attendant wrapped up her English version of the pre-flight announcements. "...and congregating near the cockpit lavatory will not be permitted. We will do our best to make this a pleasant flight to Frankfurt," she says, only half-heartedly. It's a bad sign when the flight attendants give up on the "pleasant flight" idea even before takeoff. We hadn't even had a chance to experience any complications at that point. All I'm saying is that I would have appreciated some false enthusiasm.

Soon after takeoff, I began to wonder what sort of "Code of Economy Class Air Travel" Larry David would come up with. But, since he certainly doesn't fly economy, I decided that I get to devise the Code. Over the next hour or so (we'll call it Hour 1), I was surprised at how little I was able to come up with. I think I was caught up in what I have determined to be the single most significant part of the Code. Of course, I am referring to the rules and regulations surrounding the use of the seat's reclining function.

This is a complicated subject. At first, I was determined that reclining should be entirely prohibited. In fact, my notes contain very explicit thoughts on this subject. "Though the function exists," I wrote, "it should NEVER be exercised."

At this point, I realized that the concocting of an economy class code of conduct could wait. The more pressing question was whether or not I was at risk of being victimized by the woman in front of me (we'll call her 54C). After all, my fate was entirely in her hands. So, I took to analyzing 54C to try to get a sense of how likely she was to recline during the flight.

"2:45 PM Pacific Standard Time: 30 minutes into the flight, the woman to my front and left has leaned her seat back. My neighbor, 55B, is clearly defeated." At that moment, I knew that the Code must define a minimum length of time after takeoff before one may recline.

For flights under 2.5 hours, no reclining shall be allowed under any circumstances.

For flights between 2.5 and 6 hours, a passenger must wait at leat 1.5 hours before reclining.

For flights in excess of 6 hours, a passenger must wait 2 hours before reclining.

I think that's about right.

"3:55 PM PST: 54C stands to adjust the direction of the air nozzle. She wears glasses. About 60 years old. Again, she stands up to put small jacket into overhead bin. Is thwarted by flight attendant, who was walking backwards with the hospitality cart and bumped into 54C. Undeterred, 54C stands again and completes her task. German accent detected. Seems very pleasant. She has seen me, and we have made eye contact. Thus, she knows that I am 6'4", 280 lbs. The eye contact quadruples reclining guilt in normal humans. Maybe triples it for Germans."

"3:07 PM PST: She spurns the beef and orders the pasta. In solidarity, I do the same."

At this point, it occurred to me that the new TSA regulations benefit those who tend to recline.

"Perhaps most importantly, 54C must know that I have no liquids in excess of 3 oz. This works against me, as it allows her the comfort of knowing that, should she recline and anger me, I can dump no more than 3 oz. of toothpaste on her head in retaliation." I have been stripped of my defenses, and it is not a good feeling.

That was my last note. After that, I implemented the David Puddy technique for air travel. It worked for a while. Eventually, however, 54C DID recline. This was probably about 3 hours into the flight. I guess she isn't affected by moral guilt the same way I am.

Bowie's in Space

Well, I have finally gotten around to creating this blog. It only took me about three weeks to get it done.

Overview:

This blog examines my everyday life as I inhabit Edinburgh (pronounced "eden" [like the garden of biblical fame] "burger" [as in 'do chili cheese fries come with the blue cheese bacon burger?']), Scotland, for the duration of the Spring semester. The range of topics covered will be vast, though a few recurring trends are sure to emerge. For example, "bad things that happened to me" will take a front-row seat next to "things I have eaten" and regular installments of "Accent-Related Mixup-of-the-Week", in which I recount the week's worst situation that began with a thick Scottish accent and ended with an even thicker blank stare from me. On occassion, this segment will feature my inappropriate responses to misunderstood phrases, which in turn elicit bewildered looks from the natives. That is how I turn the tables.

Objectives:

The main purpose of this blog will be to consolidate the many thoughts I have been sending out via email so that your inboxes get a rest and that you can choose if and when you want to hear from me. Secondarily, this will nullify the risk that you, the reader, would accidentally delete one of my emails from your inbox, and in trying to recover it, also accidentally delete it from your "deleted emails" or "trash can" folder. This way, the information will always be online, blunders like that will be impossible, and you will have constant access to my words.