…the sound of sheep fills my ears. After miserable weeks of nothing but essay writing, I’m back, and with stories of the nether regions of the Scottish Highlands. But first, a couple quick hitters:
ARSENAL UPDATE: After weeks of misery in the Premiership that saw them drop consecutive matches 3-0, Arsenal had a strong week advancing in the Champions league with a 1-0 victory against Dynamo Kiev. In a super Sunday matchup yesterday evening, the Gunners overcame a 1-0 deficit on an own goal with two quick scores from Dutch Striker Robin Van Persie. Final Arsenal 2- Chelsea 1. The victory sent Chelsea down from the top of the table and has put the Gunners back in the top four (essential for Champions League Qualifying).
JOE RUGBY: More ugly matches for the LSE RFC. Defeat at the hands of the School of Oriental and African Studies was rather troublesome. We got a victory last week though; the other team did not show up.
On to Scotland. Friday morning I flew from London to the Scottish city of Dundee. My trip was a long overdue visit to my best friend from high school, an undergraduate at the University of St. Andrews (a 15 minute cab jaunt from the Dundee airport). While I relished the chance to take a visit north, I vastly underestimated how cold I would be the entire weekend. I can say that I was not truly warm until I was in the Tube back from the airport yesterday. Friday, we spent the day walking the town, seeing the Reformation era ruins of Catholic buildings, and of course, walking the Old Course.
For those who don’t know, golf was invented in St. Andrews. The Old Course is the oldest and arguably the most famous golf course in the world. To this day, the course remains completely open to the public for play. St. Andrews hosts golf’s most prestigious grand slam, the British Open, every four years. After a quick pint at the most famous 19th hole in the world, the Jigger (a tiny white cottage on the 18th tee), we drove out into the highlands for Friday evening and Saturday’s festivities.
The town of Kirkmichael is located about an hour and a half drive north of St. Andrews. Our journey brought us to a hunting lodge just past this one road, three building town. It was a St. Andrews student’s birthday, and he invited his closest friends from school out for the weekend. Friday night was filled with normal student revelry, but it was Saturday that was so amazing.
The next morning, we went searching for a cup of coffee and any kind of food that could possibly be found in an area with more sheep than people. There was a small shop in the local petrol station that was able to suffice. Once inside, the two shopkeepers stared at me in awed silence as we went about chatting and walking through the store. As I went to pay for a bottle of water and a granola bar they donned these strange and frankly creepy smiles. Once back at the house, I asked some of the others to what the strange behavior of the shopkeepers was due. As I left, the others were informed that I was the first proper American they had ever seen. Now you know how out of the way this place was…
Anyway, the afternoon was spent walking through the countryside to the ruins of another castle about 5000 sheep and about a mile away. It was so gorgeous and quintessentially Scottish. Huge numbers of sheep grazed as we trudged through the frost in some high wild grasses. As the sun set at 3:00 in the afternoon (I was shocked that since it was really far north, the sun never got high in the sky. It was eerily lit like four in the afternoon whenever the sun was up), we went back to St. Andrews for a proper night out in the town. I was treated to a pub-crawl through the town hitting everything from the posh bars at the golf course hotels to the grubby student pubs. Finally making it to bed, I was just about ready to return to the center of civilization.
I flew back to London yesterday afternoon with just enough time to make it to the pub for that incredible Arsenal-Chelsea match. It was the first time I felt a semblance of warmth all weekend.
P.S. Sunday was St. Andrews day, for Scotland’s patron saint. I got to see a proper bagpipe parade.
British Music: “She’s So Lovely,” by Scouting for Girls
