*And what we've learned is that it's not worth the cabbage!

My sincerest apologies. 

That previous entry was the result of a ticking clock counting down the precious pennies I'd put into the internet machine at my last hostel. A machine that was able to utterly destroy any descriptive storytelling abilities I have. Let me adjust the previous story, and give you a bit of detail.

Heather and I had our first two nights in Glasgow, staying with my aunt and uncle. Thursday night was a bit ridiculous, being the 12 hour catch up sleep. We spent Friday 'in town', which is Central Glasgow, as opposed to Cambuslang, where we're staying, about a half hour train ride away. Trains are incredibly common, as are the buses and subway though I've yet to venture to either of those as of yet. There are little men of all shapes and sizes that work on the trains (writing it like that makes them sound like gnomes or hobbits or smurfs or something... which they are not... though it would be rather hilarious if they were!) and check for tickets or mark your tickets or give you tickets... none of them are aggressive, hauty or just out for a power trip like the CTrain squad in Calgary. Like this place already. The tasks for the day were as follows:

1. find my new school 

b. get me a mobile

iii. buy a cheap watch for Heather.

1. Turns out my school really is right down town. Across the street from the National Theatre. Around the corner from the Royal Theatre. And TOTALLY AWESOME!! We ended up getting a 'wee bit' of a tour from Kate, one of the ladies I'd been corresponding with. It was about 45 minutes worth of top to bottom through the school. There is a small, but state of the art pros theatre, currently going through refurbishing, with full wings and fly space. A black box theatre is fully equipped on the bottom floor, so between the two we get some kick ass performance space. We were shown about half a dozen different class rooms, for movement, voice, etc. The school also has opera, musical theatre, dance and music programs at varying undergrad and MA levels, as well as a tech theatre program too. It puts what I've been educated in to shame. Heather got to watch my brain actually explode out of my face as I was told that only the first semester (till the end of Dec) is spent at the school. The rest is all in placements with theatres around the country. Three weeks in Edinburgh here, a month in London there, smatterings of performances around Glasgow in between. None of the MA students from this year were currently at the school, as they were touring the brand new show that had been WRITTEN FOR THEM around the UK. (aaaaaannnnnddddd BBOOOMMM! explosion. cue ridiculous smile to be plastered to face for next hour and a half)                   I cannot believe I am here!

My class will have 20 actors, about half from the UK, the rest from Canada, the US, and Australia from the looks of things, as well as 3 directors. 

So much more on this to follow.

b) Mobile is the UK word for cell. So I no longer have a 'cell phone' but a 'mobile.' I also apparently have no clue how the whole SIM card/pay as you go/multiple carriers thing works. I was wearing the cutest possible smile I could muster (trying to make the ridiculous grin more subtle) and being the most adorably Canadian that I could, but the bloke in the store was having none of it. Not helpful. Not very patient. And in the end, after I'm sure he was convinced I was an alien not a Canadian, I picked up a phone and put a bunch of money on it. There is no plan that helps to soften the blow of international texting until I get a bank account. And even then, 'soften' is relative. (like clay instead of rock, but not soft puffy clouds of free)

iii) Cheap book store! 5pound watch! Awesome deal!     (I am writing this not even a week after the purchase... our game is "guess the time on Heather's watch." It's not a case of being fast or slow, I think it may actually be in control of time and space travel for extra terrestrials and we will shortly be 'visited' so that it can be reclaimed. Point being, it sucks at telling time)

On Saturday we headed off to Edinburgh. This part was pretty much the same as the previous blog. Awesome castle, wicked hike in the sunshine for a 360 view of the city, British girls looking like hookers. Throw in a buff dude from Vancouver doing a juggling busking show in man panties, during which he pulled an equally buff bloke up from the crowd and they had a shirtless 'man-off' that involved feats of strength, agility, ninja-ness, that we were beginning to feel was all drool worthy, followed by Guinness, and our first day in Edinburgh was stellar.  It was that night that we met someone IN Edinburgh who was actually FROM Edinburgh. Unlike the Irish, French, Spanish, and many Canadians, I met a beautiful man named Stephen (I don't know if he spells it with a 'ph' but I like that better than the 'v') who was a born and bread Edinburghian... ugh... Edinburghite... em... Edin... he grew up there and still lived and worked there.  All I know is that he (apparently) had a really big flat, with a guest room and a large TV, and that I left him in the night, probably to never see him again...

On Sunday we slept until we deemed ourselves safe from hangover. We caught an exhibit at the Royal Museum on Spanish influence in the UK. El Greco, Goya, and Picasso. Pretty cool, and just long enough to feel culture appreciating, but it ended before we got bored and moody. We hopped a train to Stirling, and a taxi to get to the castle before it closed. Arriving with an hour to spare, that was easily the best 3GBP we spent all trip. (3GBP means the walk would have been about 15 minutes... but we get lost... a lot... so, best money spent all trip) Stirling castle is like the gorgeous summer home to Edinburgh's all business. It's full of gardens, about half the size, but twice as pretty. Yet again, we got to see it in beautiful sunshine. We had dinner at a cute pub, then hopped the train back to Edinburgh, finishing the night listening to some live music at the Bank Hotel.

On Monday we had a rad walking tour of Edinburgh. Our tour guide was (surprise!) from just outside of Toronto and just super. She gave us a ton of history, some little known facts, and some wicked laughs.  A life changing and worthwhile three and a half hours. (That's just for you, Andra, in case you ever read this!) I wish I could take you step by step on the tour myself, but you'll just have to come over here and see it for yourself.

After some grub we hopped onto the longest train journey we would take, ending up further up north on the western side of the country, in the small village of Banavie. In booking the hostel, I asked for directions and was told to 'get off the train and nab a taxi'. We arrived about 10:30pm, well after dark, to an empty and rustic train station with a large sign saying "Banavie has no local taxi service." So we started walking... into wherever it was that we were... thinking we might eventually run into somebody... 

For any of you who know Heather or myself, you know that our combined senses of direction could very likely get us thoroughly lost within a two block radius of a house we grew up in, while following a dotted line taking us to where we were going! (was that confusing? I mean that we suck at finding our way)  

For any time we have ever been lost in our lifetimes, the karma gods shone down on us. Our hostel was across the street and around the corner from the train station. Unnecessary for the non existent cab, though SUPER lucky that we truly stumbled on it. 

Yesterday, being Tuesday, we took a crack at Ben Nevis, Scotland's highest mountain. This mountain is about 4500ft high, nestled into the Lochaber region. The scenery is exquisite. It's the perfect fantasy movie, with a touch of Jurassic Park! 

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We hiked about two hours up, which is about 2/3 of the way, to where you could spot the hidden loch. There were a series of these lakes, all trapped up in the mountains, unexpected and stunning. I'll be back to conquer that mountain, many times I believe...

And today... we survived a number of cancelled trains, short nerves, damaged immune systems, and itty bitty traveling spaces to arrive back in Glasgow. We had dinner tonight with my fabulously amazing grandparents, who travel more than anyone I know and still flirt with each other, kissy face and all.  I'm now sitting on a comfy bed, completing this most epic of update posts, ready for a chill day tomorrow. Heather heads off to Ireland on Friday, and our little adventure comes to a close. My next adventures will involve flat shopping and securing a bank account. 

Magic moments... bubbles and beats and those happy face giant bouncy balls that smell vaguely of orange, grape and cherry plastic, all on Sauchiehaul (pronounced Suckyhall) Street.

... a little boy climbing up Arthur's Seat, talking with his Dad saying "Are there dragons up there? Maybe the dragon will make my leg feel better." (in cute little British kid talk, of course)

... stopping half way through our 4 hour train ride today to get a closer look at the HOGWART'S EXPRESS, which still runs through Northern Scotland.

*and the explanation for the title: if you were in Edinburgh 4oo years ago with no money, you would most likely have to steal food from the market. An apple would be all you need for yourself, but for your family at home you would need something more, like a cabbage. This would get you caught, punishment for which would be having your ear nailed to the merkat cross (the big notice board of olden times, in the middle of the market). At this point you would have to stay for 24 hours, enduring the taunts and beatings and humiliations of the other market people. Or you could rip your ear from the wall, permanently scarring yourself as not only a thief, but a coward. And above all, the public knowledge was equal to public shunning, severely limiting where you could work, and destroying any respect you might have had. So in the end, what we have learned is that it's not worth the cabbage!