Welcome to St. Andrews

Let me just start by saying that if you ever decide to travel to Scotland, get a direct flight there, avoid British Airways, sleep on the plane if it is an overnight, and be prepared to eat a lot of sandwiches. Delicious airport sandwiches.

Patrick and me, excited to begin our adventure

Patrick and I took two flights to get to Scotland, and they had their ups and downs (plane pun, anyone?). For our first flight out of Boston at 10:25pm, we were dropped off at the complete opposite side of the airport. We were in the international terminal, which would seem logical. This part of the airport was nice, clean, reflective, and definitely made to show those traveling from abroad that the United States can impress. In contrast, the part of the airport that we were supposed to be in was a bit duller, worn around the edges, and made for the Americans who know better that to be swayed by high ceilings and glossy black floors.

The sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean was surreal

After a bit of running around, Patrick and I finally made it to our terminal and soon after, our journey really took off (last one, I promise!). We swore we would sleep on the plane... we were wrong. Looking at the rest of the passengers on the plane, especially the woman next to us, you'd think it would be easy to sleep on planes. Mouth wide open, not a care in the world, maybe a little drool, it looked like pure euphoria to someone desperate for even a few moments of sleep. We spent the better part of 6 hours with our heads in American Airlines complimentary pillows that had the texture of a dryer sheet. Scratch that - Patrick had the complimentary pillow, I had a sweet walmart neck pillow. In between non-sleeping sessions, we watched tv and goofed off in the loopy kind of way that only exhaustion can bring until we landed smooth as silk at Heathrow Airport, 9:50am London time.

Hanging out in Heathrow was definitely an experience. I had been anticipating being immersed in the English accent, so it was definitely a treat to hear the variations in dialect. With a bit of time to kill until our 2:55pm flight. We walked around the airport and visited some of the shops. We spent our first pounds on cheap, delicious sandwiches, crisps, and drinks at a place called Pret a Manger and then lots of coffee throughout. Patrick managed to get in a few zzzzz's on a bench but I was too uncomfortable to sleep.

 Pret A Manger falafel sandwich - trust my words, not my expression - it was delicious.

The flight was delayed because British Airways didn't have enough employees to staff the plane, which was frustrating. I overheard a British woman waiting for the flight say to the man next to her, "I'd love to take just one flight with British Airways that was on schedule." After about an hour, we were finally able to board our flight to Edinburgh. One of the great things about people in Europe is the likelyhood that they will start up a conversation with you. Granted, the man next to Patrick was from Vancouver, but we did as the Romans do and we all chatted the entire hour and a half about travel, American politics, and what we were going to do in St. Andrews. He was clever, obviously rich, and had a good-natured, amiable sense of humor that made the ride fly by (unintentional pun this time, I swear!).

The drive to St. Andrews was about another hour through the rolling countryside of Scotland, which unfortunately was completely riddled with this black stuff called "nighttime", making it unable to see any of the "green" that we were told was breathtaking. We arrived, tired and sluggish, got our room key, and settled in after just under 30 hours of no sleep.

Bicycles everywhere

Patrick and I are finally in the lovely town of St. Andrews. I mentioned something about how lovely the town was, and Patrick commented that everyone gave us advice to start using British and Scottish terms, such as "lovely" and "cheers", and we really didn't want to jump on that train. However here we are, only two days in, and we are calling this town lovely. You honestly can't help it though. St. Andrews is picturesque, the people are kind and hospitable and the architecture is venerable while still retaining the quaintness that the residents love. We have spent a lot of time walking around the town, purchasing things we need and trying out some of the local shops and "take away" restaurants (more sandwiches). Many of the buildings are made of old stone, more-so the closer you get to The Scores, to the ocean. there are three main roads in the town, all all either half paved or full cobblestone, again the closer you get to the ocean, the older everything gets.

 No one answered...

We saw many narrow cobblestone pathways and alleys and every once in a while we came upon a brightly painted door that sticks out like a sore thumb yet seems perfectly at ease where it is because that's where it's been for ages. We are still adjusting to the one thing in the town that varies greatly, the people. You will find young university students, the girls all wear heels and the boys in scarves and jackets, as well as old men leisurely sitting in front of shops, smoking pipes as if they have nowhere to be all afternoon. We met a gentleman that was been selling books and old postcards by a fountain in the center of the cobblestone street for thirty-eight years. There are families walking dogs of all shapes and sizes, students enjoying the social environment that the town offers, and then Patrick and I - too sleepy, too old to be hanging our with the throngs of undergrads, too hungry, but happy and together.

St. Andrews Cathedral

Yesterday we explored the ruins of the St. Andrews Cathedral, which had caved-in but still stands in solid, immense pieces. It's such a strange town in that you can walk out of a shop where you just bought electronics and peek down the street and see a castle on the horizon. St. Andrews is a small town, yet lively and can be crowded in some places along the main streets, however, thankfully, the ruins were actually quite clear. We walked through the cathedral with floors of grass and wound our ways through the invisible walls into the cemetery adjacent to it to get a peek of the Scottish coastline. And if you walk down a little hill, past a yellow house with a red roof, out onto a stone pier which at one time must have harbored massive ships, you are surrounded by the ocean while standing on an ancient rock. One can't help but feel affected.

 The Pier

Classes begin on Monday and I am thrilled to begin my modules and be a student again. Nothing makes me happier than learning, especially learning about art. I'll be sure to continue posting blogs whenever I have free moments and continually thank Patrick for helping me design it, creating my header, and editing my posts before they are put up.

Cheers!

(For more lovely pictures from our first days in St. Andrews, visit my flicker page!)