Julia Frank

Edinburgh Blog Post 

Prepare yourselves, I have wreaked havoc (not) on yet another country. And we aren’t even halfway through the trip. That’s right, I’m in Scotland! Edinburgh, to be exact. Yet again, you better strap in for the ride because I never know what I’ll end up writing, and this is gonna be a long one.

Let’s begin with a little catchup on my short travels from Dublin to Edinburgh. Because I am still jet lagged, I fell asleep at about 3am and had to wake up at 7:15 in order to get my shit together and get to the bus stop. I made sure that I had plenty of time to get there, being the good little prepper that I am. And after getting there 20 minutes early, schlepping my backpacks, I had to stand at the bus stop for a whole 20 minutes more because the bus was late. I bet you want to know what the real kicker is, the cherry on top, the piece de resistance. A big ol’ pile of poo. Literally. A massive pile of poop on the sidewalk that people had to try and not step in during the morning work rush. Now you may wonder, was it a dog or a human. To this day (4 days later) I am still unsure. It already had the mark of a stroller through it and had been spread around. Gross details you probably didn’t want to know, sucks for you. If I had to see it, you have to hear about it. 

Yes, even after the late bus and the poop fiasco, I did in fact make it to my flight. I got to my gate 5 minutes before it started boarding. And three people were all wearing some certain branded clothing that we all know well. You guessed it, Oregon duck gear, at the Dublin airport going to Edinburgh. You get it, I had a flight to Edinburgh, blah, blah, blah. We even deplaned on the steps and not in the little plane tunnel. We then hopped directly into our jam packed, but obviously very VIP buses and zoomed (slowly maneuvered) around the other planes on the tarmac. And here is another super cool and super exciting event that occurred. I had to check my bag this time, but when it came to getting it, it wasn’t there. That’s right, I stood there watching the bags circulate, but mine never came around and neither did about 10 other people’s. Of course we were utterly shocked and horrified to know that our bags were not there. AKA, we were actually just confused and got in line to complain, and this is when I had my brilliant epiphany. I had the absolute honor of being the hero and saving the day (kinda). I recalled the fact that I absolutely air tagged the crap out of all my belongings. I knew exactly where it was now. So I took a peek at where it was located, and I was very happy to see that is was in fact in the same country as me, just on the opposite side of the airport. I announced this to my fellow worriers and we decided that all our bags were there together. Just as we were about to move up in line, I got the notification that my backpack showed up as being with me. We all have hope again, hurray! And as we swivel our heads, we see the conveyor belt juice back up again and I see my beloved backpack pop through. An old man even thanked me for tracking it when we picked them up. You are so welcome old man, happy I could help us out. What a time. 

Now that I was successfully in Edinburgh with all my items, it was time to get to my hostel. This time, unlike in Dublin, I consulted the holy grail and went to the right bus on my first try. You’re proud of me, I know, I did well. So I hoisted my bags up onto my big body building shoulders to my hostel so they could sit there and be lonely until I could check in. Because I had only eaten my half a muffin the day before, I set off on a mission to find some food. It appears that I cannot always be trusted to feed myself. Once I fueled up at a cute cafe, I walked around for a while in order to see what I would be working with for the next few days. Gotta make sure everything is up to standards, obviously. Thank goodness it was, otherwise that would’ve been a very awkward conversation to have with myself. Now the rest of the day was pretty uneventful, that is until we get to the middle of the night.  

To set the scene, at this hostel I was in a mixed dorm instead of all female, which I have for the rest of them. It was the only option, I had to be around boys okay? But yes, ew. And of course, why would I sleep? How could I when it was the morning in Denver and that’s where my body evidently still thought it was. So there I am, on a top bunk minding my own business staring at the super interesting white ceiling, when a man comes in. Yes, he was supposed to be there, but you could tell he was wasted. He literally fell onto his bed (a bottom bunk) and threw his shoes off. Please imagine the most stereotypical drunk fall into bed and this is what it was. He then would yell out “fuck off” periodically. Personally, that is one of my favorite phrases, but in this fun little scenario, I was wondering who the ghost in the room was that he was talking to. And before he got back, some device of his kept going off very loudly and it sounded like a video game arcade. I felt like there was a spaceship chasing me with its little pew pew pew sounds. The rest of us staying in this particular room were all already in there. I watched as everyone popped up from their once peaceful slumber to look around in a confuzzled manner. One of the girls was able to locate it and went and turned it off. So when this guy plops down, it all makes sense. He was also in his 30s with ratty hair, just fyi. About 2 hours later, he gets up and comes back with one of the people from the front desk and they are poking around in the bed. I still have no clue what that was about, but he was then removed from the room along with all his belongings. Therefore, it was a very confusing night, as they usually are. And this wasn’t the only interesting night I had at this hostel, but you’ll hear about that later. 

Anyways, the next day I wake up earlier than I wanted to, since I hadn’t really slept that much with everything that was happening. It was nice and quiet so I walked over to Prince Street Garden, which I found quite underwhelming if I’m being honest. Little did I know at this point, I was only in a small section of it and it continued on the other side of the bridge. I saw the Scott Monument and sat there for a little just staring into space being awkward in public per usual. Basically I was just trying to waste some time until 11 when I was going to my bag workshop. In case you didn’t know, which you probably didn’t, Islander does a workshop where you can make your own bag and choose the color of each piece and put it together. Because I am the queen if indecision, I chose many different colors. Granted, they all went together. I was chatting up what appeared to be a hip and rich grandma. She bought a lot more stuff to take home with here and wallets to match each of the bags she got. I was telling her about my trip and she told me that I was a strong person for doing this trip alone. And I basically said I couldn’t find a job so I left the country, but in nicer words obviously. I know, I know, you want a picture. Practice some patience and you will see it at the end.

The rest of that day I spent standing around, literally. I tried going to the National Gallery of Scotland, but I had no patience for art that day and walked through it in about 20 minutes. I obviously absorbed all the information about each painting extremely quickly. I went back to my luxury penthouse suite and relaxed for the rest of the day, because I was ready to no longer be conscious. 

The second full day in my current favorite city was also just full of wandering around aimlessly, or with semi aimless. I went to a bookstore, because where else would I go. And I know you are wondering, no I did not buy a book. I practiced a rare and extreme form of self control, because I truly cannot fit a book in my backpack. I mainly wanted to go so I could see the big window with a view of the castle. After this is when I discovered the other half of Prince Street Garden, the pretty half. Although it was slightly ruined by the fact that they were setting up a big festival. I also walked through a graveyard. I would like to thank the grave of a random dead person for propping up my phone so I could take a picture of myself. You are much appreciated rando dead person. I then went to Victoria Street and Grassmarket. Victoria Street is the one with all the bright and colorful storefronts. I ended up sitting on a bench under a tree, eating an underwhelming donut that I had high hopes for. And the kicker here is that I got that donut to make up for the inedible piece of carrot cake I had gotten earlier. The donut was eaten, but it could have been enjoyed more. 

Guess what! I have another night time story for you. An old couple were staying in the hostel room I was in. And when I say old, I mean they were in their 70s and British. Now why would they stay in a hostel in a room of eight other twenty-something’s? I don’t have the answer for that and I will continuously not know the answer. Anywho, I am lying in my Alaskan sized kind bed, minding my own business. I look over to the old man, who I am going to nickname Mr.Johnson, because I saw his johnson. Yes, you read that right. Man just started stripping right there. I did not imagine my first strip show to be an old man in a hostel, yet here we are. Thankfully, I did not get the full frontal, but I saw enough to know for a fact I still saw too much. 

Now that I was properly traumatized, I shut my eyes real nice and tight and willed myself to sleep. i needed my sleep because I was waking up to trek the Scottish Highlands for 12.5 hours. And by trek, I mean sit in a charter bus. We went to Glencoe, Inverness and Loch Ness. And before you ask, yes I obviously saw Nessie. She was hanging out by the shore waving to all her adoring fans. I opted to take the cruise on Loch Ness, and it was cold and windy, but highly recommended. 

I am sad to say that I, unfortunately, do not have a fun fact for you today. I’m sorry I will do better next time. But way to go, you made it through the post and now you get to see the pictures!!